A/N: Sorry for the long delay, but as you will see very important things happen in this chapter and I wanted to go over it several times to make sure it went alright. I hope you like it! Thank you LillySnape, Mel, Felicia, and all the others who helped!

Please review at the end and let me know!

To Live or Die

Harry woke up the morning of the second task feeling grimly determined. Ron, Dean, and Seamus were already up and were waiting for him with the rest of Gryffindor in the common room. It was a tight fit for the whole House. He smiled sheepishly as he made his way through the crowd, allowing the shouting teens to pound on his back and wish him luck. Finally managing to get out the portrait hole, Harry stumbled into the blessedly empty hall. It didn't last long as the Gryffindors began pouring into the hall after him, talking excitedly and shouting at each other. Harry bolted.

It wasn't that he was uncomfortable with the attention, he wasn't, but he just didn't need this right now. He had to focus on the task. It was most likely sabotaged, he was going to be facing shark-people, and something precious of his was on the line. Clearing his thoughts, Harry descended into battle readiness. It came easily. He vaguely wished he could see Severus before the task. He knew his mentor would wish him luck and give him good advice.

Of course, Severus had already lectured him about the task he was facing for almost two weeks now; he had even supplied the gillyweed that was safe in his pocket. But it would still have been nice to see him before the task started. He knew Severus was worried for him, and Harry could tell him that he would do fine. Harry wouldn't disappoint him by getting killed now.

Having taken all the back ways through the castle, he was getting close to being late. He practically flew from the Entrance Hall doors and over toward the Quidditch stands positioned around the lake. There were still some stragglers running with him, but mostly all of Hogwarts and the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were already seated and creating a dull roar. He saw the silk tent from the first task and veered toward it.

The three other champions were waiting inside, along with all the judges. Harry was glad he had prepared himself to meet Mr. Crouch, otherwise he would have reacted less pleasantly. As it was, he glared fiercely. His glare was returned by Karkaroff and Maxime, but he ignored them both.

"Harry! Welcome!" Bagman said excitedly. "So glad you could make it!"

"Was there any doubt, Ludo?" Dumbledore chuckled, his faded blue eyes twinkling like mad.

"Course not!" Bagman laughed and patted at his forehead. "I think we're about ready to begin, yes?" He beamed around at his fellows. "Judges, if you would come with me out to the Judge's Table. The Champions need to stand in front of it…" He looked around and smiled when there were no questions. "Alright, let's begin!"

Ludo marched out of the tent and the crowd roared it's approval. The blonde waved and grinned as he took his chair at the raised table. Mr. Crouch, pale and grim, did his best to ignore the crowd completely. Maxime smiled and offered a half-wave, but quickly sat down with a scowling Karkaroff next to her. Dumbledore merely inclined his head with a twinkle as he took his own seat.

The noise got impossibly louder when the champions appeared. Fleur was the first to leave the tent, long hair sparkling like a strands of diamonds and showing off a perfect figure in her one-piece swim suit. Cedric followed, grinning and blushing madly in yellow swimming trunks as the Hufflepuffs roared his name.

"Ready, Harry?" Viktor asked in a whisper.

Harry took a deep breath and met his eyes steadily. "Yeah. Let's go."

They walked out together. Viktor in black Speedos and Harry in red trunks. The crowd went wild as they were both tied for first place so far. Viktor gave the thrashing audience his worst glare, his whole face twisted with it, and then he stared resolutely at the lake, as if his fans didn't even exist. Harry found himself grinning sheepishly. He had never had such attention, not even when he won a Quidditch match. It was rather overwhelming.

Ludo Bagman stood, raising both hands and slowly the crowd quieted. Still grinning, the round man cast Sonorous on himself. "Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover the persons whom are most important to them. Last night, all the judges got together to cast a spell that would name a peer that the champions would feel most upset at losing. Fleur Delacour, we have taken your sister Gabrielle. Cedric Diggory, we have taken Cho Chang. Viktor Krum, we have taken Hermione Granger. And Harry Potter… Well, our Harry Potter can never be ordinary."

There was a laugh at this from the hundreds of spectators.

Ludo grinned around at them all, his chest swelled out and arms outstretched as if in welcome. He was obviously eating up the attention. "The spell revealed two names instead of just one. Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy. And instead of arbitrarily choosing between them, we have decided to use both. Our Mr. Potter will have to retrieve two hostages during this task!"

There was absolute silence. Harry stared up at Bagman with horror and rage splashed across his face. The other champions didn't look much different. They had all assumed an item that meant something to them would be taken, not people! This was no joke, they could die! Harry opened his mouth to rage at the stupidity of it all. How could these people risk even more lives for this stupid tournament?

A hand gripped his wrist and he looked over at Viktor. The seventeen-year-old shook his head once, hard. Harry held his peace, glowering at the adults on the stage. He was completely unaware of the stunned mutterings of the crowd and the shocked look on Ron's and the rest of his Gryffindor year mates' face near the front row.

"These precious individuals were handed over to the merpeople of this lake," Bagman continued, his cheerful voice like thunder over the near silent crowd. "The champions have an hour to rescue them. On the count of three, then." He looked down at the champions who were still staring at him in horrified reaction. He didn't seem fazed in the least by the teenagers' hostility. "One… two… three!"

The late February day was very cold. If it weren't for the insulation spell, Harry knew he would have been in trouble. Still shocked that people, his friends, were being held captive, he moved mechanically to the lake's edge. The crowd was on its feet, screaming and cheering. Fleur was the first in the water. Viktor was second and had transfigured his head into that of a shark's. Cedric followed Fleur's example and cast the Bubble-Head charm.

Still furious about his friend and brother being put in such danger, Harry was the last to move toward the water. It took all his control not to start flinging spells at the five adult judges who were at fault. He took out the gillyweed and put it in his mouth, practically grinding his teeth as he chewed. His eyes found Severus near the front with the other Hogwarts' teachers. Black eyes bore into him and Harry straightened, taking strength from knowing his mentor was there. Nothing had changed from their plan. He would do what he had to do to keep everyone safe.

He waded into the freezing water and dove in as gills appeared on his throat. The cheers of the crowd were still heard, but were muffled and distorted. It was so strange, he thought with awe. Shaking his head and forcing himself to focus, his heart to slow, he looked around with eyes that saw clearly, despite the gloom. He was still pretty shallow, and the muddy lake bottom sloped down away from him into darkness. There were rocks and plants, seaweed and bracken. Everything was still, swaying only occasionally. It was strangely soothing.

Harry reached forward and used the dolphin-kick Viktor had taught him to propel himself smoothly forward. He kept close to the ground, letting the water rise further and further above his head, until he could no longer hear the crowd, until the underwater world was the only one left. He looked about carefully.

There were large bolder-type things and underwater hills that blocked his view. His vision didn't extend more than ten feet or so before darkness clouded his sight. New shapes and creature seemed to suddenly loom out of the dark silence, startling him. Looking for his friends was going to be harder than he thought. He saw fish and other creatures, but no merpeople and none of the other champions. It was like he was the only one left alive. He shivered and swam faster. He was wasting time.

He came upon a large field of light green weed, waving and thrashing like it were alive. Fleur was there, fighting off a dozen grindylows -small, horned water demons with pointy fangs. They were pulling her down. Harry aimed his wand and heated the water around the creatures with a non-verbal spell. The green-skinned demons shrieked as they turned a blistering red and released the eighteen-year-old girl. Fleur swam up, away from the weeds and gave Harry a thankful wave. Harry grinned back and they swam on together. They came to a startled stop when the singing started.

"An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took…

…your time's half gone, so tarry not

Lest what you seek stays here to rot!"

Furious, Harry pointed toward where the sound was coming from and the two swam swiftly forward. Harry was pleased to see he could easily keep up with the older girl and blessed Viktor for teaching him how to swim. All such thoughts disappeared as they rounded a huge border and a cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the dark on all sides. The teens froze as merpeople drifted up out of the darkness between the tiny underwater huts.

They looked nothing like the beautiful painting in the Prefect's bathroom. They had grayish skin and long wild dark green hair, whether they were girls or boys. Their yellow eyes glowed faintly and their two rows of sharp teeth really did recall to mind the mouth of a shark. Like the fairytale, they did have silver fishtails from the waist down and their chests were human-ish, but the muscle structure was different and strange. The women were topless, but it wasn't at all tempting. Each and every one of them had a weapon of some kind: spears, tridents, bone knives. And all of them had their unblinking yellow eyes on Harry with decidedly unfriendly expressions.

Fleur swam forward uncertainly, but the merpeople didn't react. She looked back at Harry, but was waved on. They had to find the hostages soon or they would die down here. Fleur nodded her understanding and swam away. Alone, Harry kicked with one foot and drifted forward, the merpeople tensed and bared their teeth, their weapons rising to point at him. Harry snarled and swam up, toward the surface, thinking to swim over the threat. The merpeople reacted instantly and swam up after him with powerful swipes of their tails. There was no contest. They were faster, stronger. Harry was soon surrounded on all sides.

He lashed out with his wand, chanting non-verbal spells. But they didn't have the desired effect. Heating charms did nothing. Cutting curses left shallow scratches in their hard hides. None of the hexes he knew that would influence the senses (like blinding or illusions) would work on non-human minds. He swam hard, his muscles straining as his new gills fought to pour enough oxygen into his lungs. He needed a plan, but he couldn't think of anything. He needed Silas; obviously fighting head on wasn't going to get them anywhere.

Silas! He called desperately, needing direction. A battle of wits wasn't his thing.

But it was all happening too fast, too fast for him to listen to Silas' instructions, he had to react and defend himself. He put a bolder at his back, he tried a blasting curse. It propelled him backward with enough force for stars to explode behind his eyes. He opened them with a scream as a spear burst through his right shoulder and pinned him to the rock.

Two dozen merpeople surrounded him, circling the rock hungrily. A merman stopped swimming long enough to throw another spear. Harry tried to wrench himself away, but couldn't move. He screamed as it ripped through his soft skin and through his left shoulder on the other side. The circle of merpeople closed in, their eyes bright with glee and hunger, their mouths open to swallow the blood-tainted water.

Harry thrashed and kicked out, only for a merman seven feet tall to bite down on his calf. A spear went through his right thigh; his magic lashed out, but could find no purchase. He screamed in pain and fear as the monsters leaned forward like starving dogs. He was helpless and knew it. He could hear Boy's screams in his mind and held on desperately. If Boy came Out now, the merpeople would kill him without trouble. Simple as that.

"Do you remember, Destroyer?" a female crooned in his ear with a disgustingly sweet voice. "Do you remember pouring your hate and anger into the lake, making it boil and howl for you? Do you remember the deaths of my people, my children, as you laughed and sung for more destruction? You killed many of my people. They died screaming, helpless against your rage. Do you remember?"

"You owe us pain, little champion," a masculine voice sung in Harry's other ear as agony pierced through his other thigh and he convulsed as the pain clawed through all his senses. "You owe us blood. You owe us your death."

xXxXxXx

For a timeless moment, Silas stood facing Harry. They had been standing on this precipice for a long time without realizing it. Silas had long been called to life, by Draco as his friend, by the political maneuvering and manipulation in their life that only he could counter with any ease. Harry had been reaching for him, needing the balance he provided. As much as Harry needed Silas to balance their life, Silas needed Harry's warmth, needed Harry to keep him connected to others, to keep him alive and mentally healthy.

They were like distorted mirror images. They stood at the same height, same size and build, but Harry had wild dark hair and green eyes where his was straight and his eyes were blue-gray. Harry was tan to Silas' pale. Harry's mouth carried a warm smile, Silas was cold and expressionless. But they reached out at the same time, like a mirror reflection should, and their hands clasped together.

I don't want to die.

Neville needs me.

Draco needs me.

I don't want to die.

They melted forward, color swirling, images colliding. They tangled together like some strange painting blurring, running together. It stretched on painfully, uncomfortably, white light flashing, filling everything. Until there were no more images, nothing was left of them, there was only one.

xXxXxXx

The teen's eyes opened, blazing green as he arched up against the spears pinning him to the rock like an insect. His mouth, gaping with silent screams closed and shaped words. The bolder exploded. The merpeople swam away, startled, but not moving far from their prey. Leaving the spears impaling his flesh, the teen turned down and kicked hard. Another whispered word and the ground opened up, forming a tunnel.

Hidden, dark and safe, he gasped as the merpeople shrieked their rage. Blind, he opened his other sense, let his empathy bloom open carefully. The merpeople expected him to tunnel away to the hostages, so they swam off, leaving their bloodlust, hate, and hunger behind them like a cloud. Breathing deeply in relief, he grit his teeth against pain and freed himself, floating above the debris of the bolder he had destroyed.

He ignored Boy's prodding to be let Out, he could hear the silent pleas to be allowed to take the punishment. Boy needed to be punished, needed the pain. It was his. Always his. It had been so long since he had been punished, since he knew pain. It was time, like the sun rising every day. His mind would disintegrate without pain there to define him. It was good, because he was bad, and pain would make him better. It was for him; pain was always for him.

The teen shook his head hard and snarled, rejecting Boy's insanity. He would not merge with him. He couldn't. Boy's insanity was utterly complete. He understood that now. Just that brief brush as he flailed for his mental bearing told him that Boy may be tamed, but never cured fully. He was just too broken. The trauma too deep and severe. To accept Boy would be to accept madness, and he couldn't afford that. He had to survive. His friends needed him. He had to get them out of here.

So he snarled at himself, rejected Boy, flung him away from his mind, reestablished the barriers between them. All the while memories were flashing by him, through him. All of them his, but all were so strange, so strange as he relived memories with different emotions, new perceptions. He ground his teeth again, grabbing the spear in his thigh and twisting it, letting the pain ground him. He couldn't get lost in his head now. He had to focus! Neville and Draco needed him still. He had to get out of here to safety.

His empathy was still open, and he painfully dragged his attention to what he could sense. The emotion-trail of the merpeople's anger was fading. He had to move quickly. How much time had elapsed? He felt his strength leaving, draining away as the blood trickled out from between wood and flesh. He could hardly swim. But he had to, he drew strength in the new yet familiar urge to protect others. He pushed forward, muttering under his breath an illusion that would use the water's distorting capacity to help hide him from sight. The blood might give him away, but hopefully he'd have enough time to get free. To make it out of this alive.

He swam as high as he could and still see the lake bottom. The huts came into view, spread before him, getting larger and better crafted the closer to the center of the mer-town he got. There in the middle was a huge statue of a merman, and beside it were five tall stakes about thirty feet high. One was empty, but the other four held a blonde girl who was about eight, Hermione, Neville, and Draco. He looked up and could just see Cedric disappearing from sight with Cho in his arms.

Looking back at the hostages, he felt rage at his brother's limp form. Rage at his best friend's vulnerability. Furious to see Hermione and the little girl tied up so helplessly. He could see the air bubbles around their heads thinning. They were running out of time. He swam forward at a slow pace, tiring quickly. He was almost there when his illusion collapsed. The merpeople howled, screaming. He hastily flung up mental shields, their rage almost making him pass out.

Viktor came between him and the merpeople, casting freezing spells and making ice blocks float between him and the merpeople. He gestured to Hermione and the green-eyed teen nodded in understanding, freeing the girls, Neville, and Draco - shoving them toward the surface- while the Seeker kept the monsters at bay.

Viktor was suddenly there, grabbing Hermione's hand, pulling her along as he swam quickly to the surface. Snatching Neville by the back of his robes and Draco by the hand, the youngest champion spared the little girl an agonized look. But he couldn't take her, too. He had no time; he couldn't stay down here any longer. The merpeople were coming and he was running out of strength.

He kicked away and up when spike of human terror stopped him. He looked past his friend and brother and saw Fleur swimming with her sister desperately after them. But behind the two blonde girls was a wave of very murderous merpeople. And they were gaining. He whispered and shield charms slammed into place beyond Fleur. The merpeople crashed into the invisible barrier, screeching at him furiously. He grinned bloodily, having bit through his own lip.

Take that, slimy assholes, he thought hatefully while turning and swimming furiously up toward the surface.

Fleur was twenty feet or so above his head. His friends were getting heavier, pulling on his arms which hurt! He felt the shields give. He had no more magic left to recreate them. Then he felt the bubble of air around his friends disappear, and he knew his brother and best friend were now drowning, dieing.

Then the gillyweed ran out of his system and he was drowning, too. Cold, burning cold, water poured down his throat, filled his lungs, and he had nothing left to fight with. Fear flooded his veins and he cried out, releasing his friends and thrashing in panic. His body going numb, freezing, dieing. Merpeople screaming their victory, rising up so fast to kill him. It hurt! He didn't want to die! Blackness and pain crowded in and…

A strong hand wrapped around his wrist.

He was pulled to the surface, broke through the water with a huge gasp and splash. He turned and stared into black eyes. Severus was cradling him to his chest, lank hair soaking wet, in nothing more than pants and a black T-shirt. His skinny, pale arms white against his tan skin. Coughing up water, gasping, crying, he clung to his beloved teacher. So thankful to be alive, so grateful that Severus cared about him enough to save him.

He looked and saw all the judges, headmasters/mistresses, teachers were all on the bank, on their feet with worried expressions, but none of them were out here, protecting him, saving him. They stood their watching like he was the best fucking entertainment around. He hated them in that moment. Overwhelmed, he desperately wrapped his arms around his teacher's neck, ignoring the pain it cost to do so, and fainted.

xXxXxXx

As the champions dove into the water, Dumbledore cast a spell over the lake, giving the crowd four blurry pictures of the champions and what they were facing. Severus found the circle that followed Harry and watched it with wide, watchful eyes. He had not been told about this task. None of the teachers had. The look on Harry's face, of astonishment, disbelief, and betrayal, still burned in his mind.

He wanted to tell Harry that the children wouldn't die if he failed. Dumbledore would have to have a back-up plan to save the hostages. They couldn't kill children not involved in the tournament. But everything was going too fast and he watched as Harry and the other champions went into the water believing that should they take more than an hour the hostages would drown.

Speaking of, Severus was shocked that Draco had been equal to Neville. He knew the spell the judges had cast. It picked the most important person to the target that is closest to the target's age. The world would now believe that Draco and Neville were valued by Harry completely equally for both to be chosen.

Severus suspected that the spell had taken the person closest to both Harry, and also named the peer closest to Silas. But should that be the case, why would Silas feel anything for Draco Malfoy. Obviously, something was going on that he didn't know about. And that made him anxious. Just when he thought he was making progress with Silas, his ignorance was shoved in his face. As always, two steps forward and one step back with the Slytherin. It was maddening.

He watched the circle like a hawk. He wasn't surprised when Harry rescued Delacour from the grindylows, but frowned when the two met the ring of hostile merpeople. Dread settled in his chest and he cleared his mind, allowing the fear to surface in his conscious thoughts…. Something about merpeople… Slowly the revelation came clear…Last year, the Dark storm… the lake rising and boiling, horrible screams, later being told of the death of many merpeople, Dumbledore having to promise much to get them to stay… His eyes widened and he made his way through the crowd and swiftly to the headmaster's side.

"Potter is in danger," he whispered harshly. "He needs to be removed."

"Nonsense, my boy," the old man twinkled up at him happily. "Harry can well take care of himself. As you know."

"Headmaster, I'm serious. The merpeople will not follow the rules. They will do everything in their power to kill him."

Dumbledore looked into his eyes, his glasses low on his nose and the sun shining on his silver hair. "This will be a good experience for him. Gabriel will be fine."

Severus opened his mouth, his face twisted in rage and hatred for the man before him, but froze when he heard the screams. He spun around, his robes swirling around his legs, to see the crowd staring with fascinated horror at the large circle portraying Harry's struggle. He was swimming for his life, wand in hand, the merpeople looking vicious and monstrous as they corralled and tormented the teen. Severus stood rigid as Harry put his back to a bolder and then was impaled, pinned there like a lab specimen.

He strode toward the water, spelling his robes and shoes back into his quarters. His foot just hit the icy water when he was frozen in place. Silently hissing his fury, his magic fought the binding placed on him. He tore at it viciously, invisible claws ripping and tearing, but Dumbledore's magic just regrew like living vines and he wanted to howl.

Harry was down there and he was going to die if something wasn't done!

The silent battle waged and he was losing. Severus' mind raced as he pulled all his magic in close, conserving it, hunting for weaknesses in his prison, when it suddenly snapped. He spun to see Lupin standing behind Dumbledore with his wand raised and cursing the old man. Severus knew the reprieve wouldn't last long and he dove quickly into the water before Dumbledore regained his bearings and bound him again.

The water was freezing and he quickly cast an insulation charm. He swam on top of the water, cutting through it smoothly with even strokes. The crowd was roaring and screaming, but Severus ignored it. He ignored everything. All his concentration went to the Point Me spell burning in his mind. He was about at the middle of the lake when Diggory came up with Chang.

"Sir?" the Hufflepuff squawked.

"Get out of the water, now!" he snapped and the teen paled before quickly swimming for shore.

Severus cast the Bubble-Head charm and went under. Krum swam past with Granger. The professional Seeker didn't even slow as they passed. Severus could see why. About forty merpeople in a blood rage were swarming up out of the darkness of the lake, chasing the two remaining champions and the three unconscious hostages.

Delacour was ahead of Harry. She had her sister and was swimming like demons were on her tail. Harry was struggling with his two hostages and hadn't seen him yet. He let go and began to thrash, obviously drowning. Draco and Neville had woken and were doing the same. Severus quickly cast a large shield, holding the merpeople at bay as he grabbed onto Harry's wrist. He was just about to grab another teen when Lupin appeared at his side and grabbed both Draco and Neville. Severus kicked hard for the surface.

The crowd was screaming manically when they broke the surface, but all Severus' attention was on his charge in his arms. Harry was gasping and coughing violently, shaking with the deadly cold. Short spears were sticking out of his shoulders, piercing him all the way through, and if Severus was right, it felt like there were at least two more in his legs. He cast a quick warming spell followed by the insulation spell and was shocked when the still coughing teen turned in his embrace to look him in the eyes. Harry lifted his arms, crying out in agony, and wrapped them around Severus' neck like a desperate child before passing out completely.

Severus' arms tightened protectively around the small teen and began kicking for the closest shore. Lupin was swimming on his back a few feet from him. He had one arm wrapped around the shoulders of both the boys. The two teens were confused, shocked, and having a hard time swimming in their robes. Severus knew it wouldn't be long before both boys were clambering for answers. He was only half right. As they waded up to the shore about three hundred yards from the judges table, only one of the boys began yammering questions.

"W-w-what-t-t's hap-p-pening-g-g?" Neville demanded. His eyes were huge in his face as he watched Severus lay Harry out on the grass. He had horrible spears sticking out of both shoulders and thighs.

"For the second task," Lupin began to explain, "a person who is closest to each champion is taken to be rescued. Both you and Mr. Malfoy were revealed for Harry."

"H-h-he's h-h-hur-t-t-t?" Neville stuttered. He was still shivering with cold and his lips were blue.

Draco didn't look much better, but he stood silent and ridged, his gray eyes staring at Harry as Severus pulled one of the spears out. The teen arched, coming awake with a scream. Draco moved without thought and cast a spell to hold him in place. Severus didn't look up to acknowledge the help. He just quickly pulled out the second, then the third, and fourth.

"He'll be fine," Lupin answered Neville and was casting spells of his own on all three teens to warm them up.

Pomfrey finally arrived on the scene and pushed Severus to the side as she began to cast healing spells. McGonagall and Dumbledore came next, both putting blankets around Neville and Draco. Lupin declined his and Severus just stared blankly at the headmaster as the judges ran up behind them. The crowd was still screaming, but when Bagman cast Sonorous, everyone fell silent.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision regarding the champion's scores. Out of fifty, we award Fleur Delacour twenty-five points. She was the last to reach her hostage and was trapped by grindylows twice, needing help both times from other champions to be free of them.

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, was the third to reach the hostages, but was the second to return, coming in four minutes outside the time limit. Also, he helped a fellow champion against the grindylows and blocking the merpeople attack, therefore we give him forty points.

"Harry Potter used gillyweed and reached the hostages second. He came in last and needed help from his professors. But he also faced more violent hostility from the merpeople than the other champions, as well as had an extra hostage to rescue. Considering these disadvantages and the fact that he helped his fellow champions as much as he could, we award him forty-five points.

"The winner of the second task is Cedric Diggory. He used a successful Bubble-Head charm, was the first to reach the hostages and to return only a minute outside the time limit of an hour. We award him forty-seven points!"

Bagman paused, allowing the screams and cheers of the crowd to die down before trying to shout over them. "The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June. The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions!"

Severus ignored the deafening chaos and looked to Madam Pomfrey as she hovered Harry into the air. He was right on her heals as the matron quickly made her way back to school. Remus took both Draco and Neville by the shoulder and bustled them after the three. Neither of the teens protested.

They had just reached the Infirmary when Dumbledore grabbed Severus by the arm and firmly guided him to the empty room next door. The powerful wizard didn't even bother with his wand as he cast strong locking, privacy, and silencing spells around the room. Severus stood like a soldier in the middle of the room, waiting for the inevitable attack. He was still wet, his pants and shirt still soaked and clinging to his chilled skin. He looked straight ahead, Occluding like mad, and doing everything he could to hide the shivers wracking his body.

"What was that out there, Severus?" Dumbledore said softly, reminding the man strongly of a young and sane Voldemort. The ancient wizard paced forward, his eyes hard, his hair long and free, his hands loose and ready at his sides. "How dare you act so imprudently! I demand an explanation, Severus, and it better be good."

"It was obvious the merpeople were not going to stop until Potter was dead. I have an obligation to keep him alive through the life-dept I owe his father. I could not stand by and do nothing while watching him be murdered."

"He was fine, Severus. I gave you a direct order not to interfere," Dumbledore said calmly. "I will not allow Harry to die until he has completed his task. Do you doubt me?"

"He managed to escape the merpeople, but he was drowning when I reached him. He would not have made it to the surface," Severus argued softly.

"I would have pulled him out before that happened. He was still conscious. There was still a chance for him to act," Dumbledore answered furiously. He slammed his hand against the wall and the floor rolled. "Why did Draco Malfoy's name come out of that spell. What do you know, Severus?" He came forward and grabbed the man's chin in his bony hands, his blue eyes boring into black. "Lower your shields or I will be forced to believe you have something to hide."

Severus stared into the eyes that he once trusted beyond question and felt like committing murder. But he quickly sent his hate, his discontent, and all his knowledge of the political sabotage he had orchestrated against the headmaster, and sunk it all deep down in his mind under several layers of his Occlumency. He opened one barrier and another and another as the headmaster plundered his thoughts, all the while hooking incriminating thoughts and important information about Harry and hiding them as best as he could. He gave Dumbledore nothing the old man didn't already know.

"You will find out about their relationship," Dumbledore rumbled. His magic swept about him in controlled sheets, pressing against Severus and making him submit under the greater power. "You will report to me every night, Severus. I fear you are losing your footing once again." Dumbledore released him and turned away. "Maybe I will have you go to Azkaban and pick up a report I need, just to remind you of the price falling away from the Light will cost you."

"I will go if you need me to," Severus answered evenly.

Dumbledore left him without another word, his anger still crackling around him. Severus staggered to the side and leaned against the rough stone wall. He leaned his head back and just concentrated on breathing. He felt young and vulnerable, his mind bleeding from the careless attack by the headmaster. Shaking, he managed to pull together his mask of indifference. A few minutes later he cast drying charms and summoned his shoes and robes before making his way back to the Infirmary.

Poppy was working over Harry still. Lupin was standing near-by, his arm still around Neville. The chubby Gryffindor was leaning into the werewolf's side and looked frightened as well as angry. Draco was a few beds away. He was looking away from the commotion around Harry, but he was obviously effected. Severus had never seen him sit so still or silent for so long. He made his way over, fighting the urge to demand information about Harry's condition. Obviously Poppy would tell them when she knew, he could do nothing but wait.

"Draco, have you been seen to?"

The blonde looked up at him and his eyes were guarded. The arrogant, superiority was gone from his continence, leaving behind a shrewd and wary expression. He nodded once. Severus was instantly aware that he needed to tread carefully.

"I was not aware you had any relationship with Mr. Potter beyond that of a bitter rivalry."

Draco's face closed off, his eyes going remote. "As you say, sir."

Severus knew he wasn't going to get anything out of the teen. Thankfully, he had an excuse to leave off questioning him, as Poppy sighed and stepped away from her patient. Severus made his way to her side. Lupin and Neville were equally tense, waiting for news. Severus caught Draco leaning forward, holding his breath, out of the corner of his eyes.

"I've done all I can for now, but he will still need several days to recover," Poppy said tiredly, covering the unconscious teen with a blanket. "The spears in his shoulders did mild damage, but his thighs… I'm afraid an artery was severed in both. If there are no complications during treatment he should fully recover, but only if he rests and doesn't strain himself."

"Thank you, Poppy," Lupin smiled warmly. "Is there anything we can do?"

"I will need potions," the medi-witch admitted, looking to Severus.

"You will have them," he inclined his head. "And the condition of my student?"

She glanced over at Draco. "He and Mr. Longbottom are fine and free to leave. They should get plenty of rest and keep warm, otherwise they are likely to come down with a cold."

"I will see to it," Severus gestured for Draco to come, and the blonde moved reluctantly to his side. "I will return later with the potions you need."

"Thank you, Severus," the witch answered absently, already checking over Harry again.

He moved toward the doors and passed Granger and Weasley as they hurried into the Infirmary. He didn't even bother to stop the sneer that made it's way to his face. He was interested to know the very potent glares both shot at Draco, which the blonde disdained to acknowledge. So Harry's friends knew nothing about Draco, not surprising. But it was surprising that the blonde seemed less inclined to fight with them as they were with him. He would definitely have to keep an eye on the teen.

xXxXxXx

It was almost two in the morning. Pomfrey was in her quarters, the hospital wing was silent and dark. It was as if the castle itself was sleeping. The peace, the stillness was a balm to his twisting thoughts. There was so much to go through, to adapt. Especially when it came to feelings. On one hand, he knew Hermione and Ron meant well and stuck with him when given a chance, but on the other he really hated their childish attitudes. They expected him to act and be a certain way, expected the world to be a certain way, and were upset when things deviated from their preconceptions. He wanted to give them a chance, he really did, but he knew he wasn't willing to put up with anymore childish tantrums from them. It just wasn't worth the effort.

As for the adults in his life… He liked Remus as a friend, but the man didn't really understand him. He was clumsy and uncomfortable with him having MPD and what caused it. Remus would be there for him, but couldn't give him the support he needed. Remus was a better match for Neville. As for Sirius, he resented the man for never coming for him, for putting revenge fist. But he sympathized with his suffering and was willing to try to at least be friend with the man. They both meant well. Severus was in a category of his own, making him feel so many conflicting emotions it almost made him dizzy. He trusted the man completely. Trusted him to help guide him, to protect him, and to care for him. He loved Severus like a father, but with that came the need to prove his independence, his worthiness, to the man. He didn't want to appear weak before him.

Neville was his brother. Nothing would change that. But whereas he always felt equal or like the little brother in the relationship, he now felt decidedly protective and more like an older brother to the chubby Gryffindor. And then there was Draco. Draco tied him in knots. The teen was funny, clever, and he enjoyed his company, as well as the way he thought. It was comforting because they thought alike, could relate in ways that he knew he would never be able to relate with either Hermione or Ron. He didn't want to stop being Draco's friend. That's why he had to tell him the truth. Draco would never forgive him if he didn't. He might not forgive him for lying for so long as it was.

But he had to try to salvage the things he liked about his life. He knew everything was going to change now. For better or worse, he was whole, his personality was no longer fractured. Only the broken parts of himself were missing. Everything was different. Everything seemed more dangerous. He didn't even know what to call himself anymore.

There was no escaping the name Harry. To the world, he was Harry Potter, but he hated that image. He hated the obligation of being hero, of being put in a spotlight and devoured by society. He had no qualms about protecting himself or his friends and family if something were to attack him. And he really hated Voldemort and wouldn't refrain from taking a shot at the monster if he could, but he had no desire to protected everybody. He had no desire to die young, or to die on a battlefield. He had no desire to fight in a war over Purebloods and Muggleborns. That was why he felt uncomfortable with the name Harry. He wanted to be himself and cut free of the demands the Wizarding World.

But he wasn't Silas anymore either. He was still wary of trusting others, wary of giving people power over him, but at the same time he knew how much he needed friends, needed his family of Severus and Neville. Remembering the isolation he had backed himself into as Silas now brought chills to his spine. It was a cold and lonely way to live, and he couldn't do that again. Sure he was scared of being taken advantage of and his memories of Lockhart still made him want to throw up, but he knew pushing his family away wasn't the cure.

He had so much to think about, so much to consider. He felt like a whole new person, but at the same time it was like he was always the same. Even after sitting here for almost five hours, thinking and soul-searching, he still felt helplessly tangled up inside. Unsure of himself, of everyone around him. Crawling out of the hospital bed, Harry went to the back of the room by the tall windows.

He pulled his necklace off his neck and spelled the piano into its rightful size. Casting wards to keep anyone from hearing him, he sat down and just stared at the keys. He felt a warmth of pleasure, knowing he loved to play, but also a strange sense of not knowing how. He closed his eyes tight and placed his fingers on the white and black keys. He pushed down, just letting the deep note resonate. Then another, and another. The song emerged slowly, but soon his whole body swayed as he let it consume his attention and calm his thoughts.

He played until the sun rose over the horizon and cut painfully into his eyes. Regretfully, he stilled and caught his breath, wiping sweat from his face. A quick incantation had the ward down and his necklace returned to him. He was just getting back into bed when Pomfrey arrived with breakfast. She smiled at him and he managed an empty smile in return, listening to her nonsense chatter as he finished his meal. When he was done, she gave him his potion and told him to get more sleep. Harry sighed, rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, his mind beginning to race and dissect himself once again.

xXxXxXx

He had two visitors that day. The first was Dumbledore. He came after dinner and it was safe to assume that his emotions about the headmaster weren't conflicted in the least. He hated the man and would be glad to be free of him as soon as he could. His plan regarding the unbearable man was to take as much as he could from the bastard and give nothing in return. So when the headmaster came bearing down on him with a benign smile and a thousand questions, he was ready to wiggle his way to enigmatic answers.

"Harry, my boy," the old man beamed as he settled down into a comfortable chair he transfigured beside the teen's bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Still a bit tired," Harry answered with a neutral smile, his mind racing as he quickly considered how best to play the situation.

"That is to be expected." Dumbledore pat his knee with a tender expression. "Do you know why the merpeople were so violent with you, my boy?"

"No, sir. Did they tell you why?" Harry didn't have to feign curiosity. He was anxious to know if the headmaster had figured out about Demon and the storm last year.

Dumbledore stared hard at the young teen, but maintained his friendly expression. "The leader of the merfolk explained that they feel they need recommendation for the deaths they suffered last year during the Dark Storm. I'm afraid they have chosen you to pay."

"But why?" Harry bunched his face into a baffled frown, his heart beginning to pound. He was just so tired! He couldn't tell if he was overplaying his hand or not. So much was riding on his performance during this interrogation. His eyes went wide with anxiety, but thankfully that only helped his case.

"I do not know," Dumbledore said soothingly. "I have had a conference with her and she has promised to harm no one else. We will just have to be careful to keep you out of reach of the lake."

Harry closed his eyes, his temper fraying as the old man laughed as if he had just made some hilarious joke. He was glad to know the headmaster thought his safety was such a light matter. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep… But no, the bastard was shaking his shoulder and asking to know why Draco's name had been revealed by the spell as well as Neville. Thankfully, he had already thought of a cover story for that.

"I don't know, sir." Harry opened his green eyes and daringly met the headmaster's gaze. "Maybe because we are rivals and the rivalry is important to me. It's all really strange, but I've been thinking about it and it would be really weird if Malfoy wasn't around. I'd feel like something was wrong or missing. We're kinda like opposites. Does that make sense?"

"I understand completely," Dumbledore smiled and Harry relaxed with relief. "It is only natural to define ourselves by our opposites. That possibility never occurred to me. We just assume that the spell would only pick up on positive relationships as the most important one and not negative ones. For someone in your position, the person who helps you sharpen your fighting skills would be important. I do believe you're right, my boy. You are very clever to have figured it out," he laughed again and patted the teen on the head.

"Thank you, sir." Harry ducked his head as if to hide a blush, but really he was just desperate to get the man to stop touching him. He wasn't a dog, for god's sake!

"Headmaster, my patient needs lots of rest. He is still recovering," Pomfrey chose that moment to arrive and Harry sighed in relief as the manipulating bastard was herded out of the room.

The second visitor was none other than Draco Malfoy. Harry was finally sleeping for the first time in almost thirty-six hours when the blonde's hand grabbed him by the shoulder. Before he was fully awake, he was sitting bolt upright with his wand pointing unwavering at the Slytherin's throat.

xXxXxXx

Draco came to the Hospital Wing expecting Potter to laugh at him, to boast about using him and fooling him. He walked into the dark, silent room expecting to use a very Dark curse to cause the hated Gryffindor a lot of pain for manipulating him. Him! Draco Malfoy! How dare he? Rage scorched his veins until he could hardly breathe. His hands were trembling at his sides and his knuckles were white as they held his wand.

He hadn't expected to see the filthy half-blood lying flat on his back, still and pale in the faint moonlight. He looked small and hardly capable of such a complicated deception. It was all so absurd! How could Potter have pulled of such a stunt, how could he act so thoroughly like two completely different people? Draco wanted to hurt him, but he wanted to see his eyes first. He wanted to see Potter regret ever trying to toy with him.

He reached out and shook the teen's shoulder once, a vicious sneer on his face.

He was hardly prepared for the speed at which the Gryffindor moved. Between one eye blink and the next, Potter was laying still in sleep. Then, without seeing the transition, he was sitting up, his green eyes wide and glinting in the light, his arm rock steady and pointing a wand at Draco's throat. Strangely, Draco felt his stomach drop in disappointment. So it's true, a small voice whispered in his mind, he had no friends here.

"Draco!" Potter gasped, shocked. "What are you doing here? What time is it?"

The sound of that poisonous voice shattered the momentary hurt, and the rage came flooding back. In a voice colder than he had ever heard, Draco said, "It's one in the morning and I believe you owe me some answers, Potter."

He was pleased to have his back to the window. It masked his face, but it also faintly illuminated Potter's. It put him at an advantage. But as the Gryffindor's face softened with exhaustion and something unnamable, his hand and wand dropping limply in his lap, Draco feared being able to see Potter's face wasn't an advantage at all. He was at risk of being pulled into the detestable lies once again. Silently snarling, Draco raised his wand slightly, still keeping it out of sight and bared his teeth. He wouldn't be tricked again.

"Yeah. I know," Potter said softly, roughly rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair.

Draco watched, rigid with anger and suspicion, as the Gryffindor moved back against the headboard and crossed his legs Indian style. He viciously squashed any worry as he watched Potter's trembling hand reach for his glasses on the bedside table and slip them on over darkly circled eyes. The white bandages shone under the hospital shirt on his shoulders. Draco knew there would be matching bandages on his thighs. He firmly told himself that the tightening of his stomach was pleasure at the thought of the hated half-blood's pain.

"I wasn't playing games with you," Potter began. Draco snorted in disbelief and the green eyes glared at him. "I didn't, Draco. I'd like to remind you that you're the one that came up with the whole secret identical twin brother thing. I let you believe it because that was as close to the truth as I could come with you."

"What do you mean?" Draco hissed icily, furious and mortified at the reminder of the story he had thought himself so clever for coming up with. Twin brothers, indeed! He ground his teeth audibly. To the Gryffindor's credit, he didn't smile at the noise.

"Look…" Potter bit his lip, but then visibly forced himself to straighten. "I… This is hard, alright. Just… give me a chance to explain."

Draco had no idea what the Gryffindor was playing at now. This wasn't going at all how he thought it would. Frustrated, Draco didn't know whether to just curse him now and walk away, or let the ugly half-blood dig himself deeper.

Potter waited patiently, making no move to convince him to stay.

Draco narrowed his eyes and hissed, "Start talking."

"You're not making this easy," Potter sighed and ran his hands through his messy hair again.

Draco stared coldly at the lightning bolt scar that was revealed. Was that some ploy to remind him of his political and magical power? Draco let out a low breath, darkly amused that Silas… No! Potter!… thought he'd be so easily intimidated.

"I don't intend to make this painless for you," he answered smoothly, hurtfully.

"Yeah, I get it." The Gryffindor closed his eyes and sat silent for a long second. Draco was just about to snap at him when he began to talk. "I'm… damaged. My mind, that is. It's…"

Draco watched Potter struggle for words and suddenly felt like things were tipping out of his control. What was the bastard saying? And why the fuck should he believe a word of it? But he couldn't help the loosening of his muscles as he watched the Gryffindor's face. Couldn't help but listen as Potter's body visibly coiled with tension.

"Bad things happened to me," he finally rasped. His eyes flashed with a familiar icy threat as he added, "and no I don't want to tell you about them now, but it did something in my head." Potter looked away, his hands clenched so tightly in the sheet on either side of him, Draco thought he could hear it rip. "I kinda fractured my personality so that I wouldn't be insane, so I could function as if the bad things that should have made me insane didn't happen. I broke my mind into pieces that each had their own personality, as if I were several different people at once and those personalities took turns coming to the surface."

"This is ridiculous," Draco spat disgustedly. His heart was pounding in his chest. His rage had frozen, turning to fear as it sliced along through his systems. Either Potter was lying and all this was an act, or he was revealing a horrific truth. Both choices were unacceptable. It wasn't suppose to happen this way, he thought desperately. "I want the truth, Potter, not more lies!"

"What did you expect, Draco?" the Gryffindor shot back hotly. "Me to tell you that I've just been acting, pretending to be Slytherin at night and pretending to be Gryffindor during the day? That I deliberately lied to you and played with you? Well, it's not true! Silas was an alter, the main one. Harry was the Host alter. Silas and Harry wrote to each other, talked to each other, fucking argued. We acted like different people. We had different opinions and everything! You know that! No one is that good of an actor!"

The silence that followed the passionate rant was broken by the harsh breathing of them both. Draco didn't know what to think anymore. It was just too much. Harry was staring at him, and he wondered what the other teen could see. How much was the shadows hiding? Eventually they both began to calm. It was Harry who spoke first.

"Down in that lake, I was dieing," he said softly, almost a whisper. "I was going to die, Draco, and I couldn't survive as just Harry. I needed Silas' ability to plan and trick the opponent, to escape. But I still needed Harry's combat skills. I needed both at once, and I finally let go. I finally let my two selves come together because it was that or I was going to die."

Draco began to believe him and that frightened him more than anything else. If what Harry was saying was true… Merlin. To have your sanity, your sense of self be so fractured, so completely broken… It was horrible. Draco knew their relationship had been built on quicksand from the beginning. He knew when he had thrown more into it than just associates that he was setting himself up for a deep fall, but this… What the fuck was he suppose to do with this? He just stared down at the boy he knew as Silas, who was also the boy he knew as Harry, and could hardly wrap his mind around it.

"So Silas is really gone? Gone for good?" Draco finally asked, his voice expressionless.

"No," Harry answered, huddled against the headboard, obviously exhausted with eyes suspiciously wet. "I'm still Silas. I'm just also Gryffindor Harry. I'm both." His posture shifted, becoming defensive, and his voice turned cold as his mouth slid into a sneer. "Is that too hard to understand? Forgive me for not telling you the truth sooner since you pride so very much. Forgive me, Draco, for this being so fucked up, but as strange as it is for you, imagine being me!"

"Calm down," Draco drawled, suddenly not at all happy with the distress he was causing. "You're going to explode if you keep it up."

"If you could see my glare clearly right now, you'd be very afraid."

"I'm sure," Draco answered breezily.

Harry cracked and began to laugh quietly. Draco smiled back and sat silently at the end of the bed. He still couldn't grasp it. To be told that his friend's sanity had been shattered, that all this time he had been suffering from a horrible mental condition that made him into several different people, it was unbelievable. He wondered if Harry felt like he was being possessed by Silas, or the other way around. For that matter, what the hell did he want to be called. Was he Silas or Harry?

"So, does this bother you, Draco?" Harry asked with a teasing smile. "That you're friends with a Gryffindor. You can't hide behind Silas anymore."

"Please," Draco scoffed, playing along. "If Silas is any part of you, then you are no Gryffindor."

"True. I'll give you that. The Hat originally wanted me in Slytherin." Harry yawned, slumping a bit as his eyes fell half shut. His smile turned wry as he looked at Draco sideways. "I have a feeling this conversation would have gone completely different if you hadn't come when I was completely exhausted and could hardly think straight. Very Slytherin of you," he finished on another yawn.

"That was a very unsubtle hint," Draco chided. "I get it that you want me to go, already."

"I really am exhausted," Harry shrugged and settled down in bed as soon as Draco stood. "Maybe explain my condition in better detail later."

"No maybe about it," Draco mock growled. He turned to leave, but hesitated. "What should I call you?"

"I think I'm coming to terms with being Harry Potter. I'm not just Silas by any means anymore, but…" he bit his lip. Draco was surprised at the shy expression that came over the Slythindor's face. "When we're alone, I'd like to be Shadow."

"Alright," Draco answered softly. "Goodnight, Shadow." And he slipped silently from the infirmary.

He felt a smile pull across his face and something warm settled in his chest. He wasn't sure where he would stand with this new Harry, but two things gave him hope. The first was that the spell had named him as well as Longbottom as being closest to Harry. Not Weasley, not Granger. And second, by asking to be called by his penname, the name he had created just to talk to him in their letters over the summer, reinforced that he was still Silas. It reassured him that not everything had been a lie.

Chapter end.

A/N: (hides behind shield) Well… (peeks out carefully) What do you guys think? Did you see it coming? Do you think I went too fast? I promise things aren't going to be smooth sailing now that they have merged. There is still a lot Harry has to cope with. I promise I haven't forgotten Boy. Attention will be paid to him very soon.

Please Review!