Harry groaned as he shut the third dead-end book he'd looked through that night. Several other books related to water and air magic lay open on his library table, none of which seemed to offer him the answers he was looking for. Multiple books discussed the importance of certain types of water in potions, or how higher air pressure could affect certain spells, but nothing that would allow him to breathe underwater without years of study and practice. He swore if Hermione came waltzing through the library with a solution, he'd never complain about her intense study sessions ever again.
Neville came to give her a message from Professor McGonagall about a meeting, but it had been hours which worried Hary. Distracted, he twirled his pen through his fingers and allowed his mind to drift.
The library cleared hours ago being a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Hermione dropped another book concerning magical creature taming on the table. Their current theory for the first task was to find a way to soothe or tranquilize the dragon.
"That's the last of them," she announced and slumped into the chair beside Harry. He gave her a grateful smile, happy to have her on his side even if no one else was.
After three hours of flipping through various antidotes on caring for magical creatures, even Hermione was spent. Any helpful stunners or temporary tranquilizers simply wouldn't be strong enough for a dragon, and dragon tamers went through years of training before being allowed to work with dragons under supervision.
"Somehow I think killing it would be frowned upon," Harry lamented, laying his head against the table with a thunk
"Don't even tease, Harry. You know those dragons are under the protection-"
"Of the Division of Wildlife and Magical Creature Protections. Yes, I know." After a beat, he added, "I wish I could have a broom. I'm sure I could outfly it if I had mine."
Hermione's eyes sparked with an idea. Quickly, she pulled a pen that had been tucked somewhere in her ponytail, scribbling out notes on a scrap of parchment.
"Hang on. Is that a pen," Harry asked, plucking the writing instrument from her hands. The Muggle object was hard to picture surrounded by flame-lit sconces and rolls of parchment.
She pulled the pen from his grasp and jotted down a new thought, eyes on her paper and cheeks burning. "I know we're supposed to use quills and ink, but there isn't any rule saying we can't use pens. And they're just so much more convenient. "
"Hey, you'll get no argument from me. Wish I'd thought of it. Can I have one?"
Hermione shot him a look as if he'd asked to be given her firstborn child. "You have to promise not to lose it, Harry, because I swear to Merlin, I am only giving you the one."
"Merlin, Hermione, it's just a pen."
"This is not just a pen, Harry." She extended her hand to allow him to look at the pen again. It was a black-inked click pen like the ones he saw every teacher use. Nothing seemed special about it to him. "This is the superiority in writing tools."
Harry couldn't contain his laughter. "I can't believe this. You are an utter pen snob!"
"So you don't want it?" she asked, retracting her outstretched hand. He quickly snatched it from her grasp and clutched it to his chest.
"No, I want it. I've missed not having to carry around a quill, ink well, and scraping knife."
"Yes, well, sometimes the best solutions are the most mundane." And she turned back to pull another pen from her bag, brainstorming ideas for the first task.
He held the pen pinched between his forefinger and thumb, holding it level in front of his face, and stared as if the pen itself could channel its previous owner and give him answers. But then an answer did hit him. If his best solution for the dragon was a simple summoning charm, perhaps his solution to the lake was even simpler. Mundane. Muggle.
—
Harry felt ridiculous. The wet suit he had created was tight in too many places, and a few of the younger girls giggled and pointed as he passed. The air tank drug awkwardly behind him making a loud noise that drew the attention of everyone in a hundred-meter radius.
The previous night passed, Harry consuming every library book on Muggle deep sea diving he could find. Once he had a general idea of the operation of the breathing apparatus, Harry moved his experiment to the prefect's bathroom testing the mechanics of his transfiguration. He did not want to find failures in the system at the bottom of the Black Lake. With his newly transfigured wetsuit, respirator, and breathing tank, Harry attempted to get a few hours of sleep and hoped he would have the time to run his plan by Hermione in the morning. That unfortunately did not happen.
"What is that?" George called as he and Fred took up each of Harry's sides. Harry was happy to find at least a few familiar faces that morning.
"Scuba gear. Muggle equipment that lets you breathe underwater."
The twins gave him an appraising look before George spoke again. "Interesting choice, Potter. Hermione come up with that?"
"I wish." A knot formed in his stomach. He had been sure Hermione would have seen him off before the task as she had before the first one. "I haven't seen her since last night actually. I'm starting to worry."
"Probably having late-night chats with the Bulgarian, that little vixen." Fred teased with a suggestive wink.
All the blood drained to Harry's feet. He didn't like that idea. The reason why wasn't easy to place, but he knew he did not like that.
"Relax," Fred offered, slinging an arm over his shoulders. "We're only taking the mickey out of you, mate. You know Hermione. She probably got caught up studying or something."
"Yeah, " Harry muttered knowing good and well she hadn't since he'd spent a good portion of his night in the library then the common room researching. Hermione certainly hadn't been in either place.
"You know, haven't seen Bitty Baby Ronnie either now that you mention it." George commented not looking the least bit worried about his brother. Before Harry could ask, the booming voice of Albus Dumbledore called the champions to the stage.
The twins clapped him on each shoulder hard enough to nearly buckle his knees under the pressure.
"Good luck, mate," they called in unison.
Harry shouldered his air pack and climbed the steps to the champion's platform. He was once again struck with how ridiculous he must look when even Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at his attire. With one last search of the crowd for Hermione and Ron, Harry placed the goggles over his eyes and the respirator in his mouth. As the horn blew, he stepped off the platform and let the tank's weight plummet him down.
A pit sunk in his stomach. Hermione. He had to get her up to the surface, screw the tournament, but then a flash of red hair caught his eyes. With a nauseating realization, he understood this was the task. He scanned the faces of Cho Chang and a young blonde girl understanding each person meant something to a champion. Except he had two. Subconsciously, he knew Hermione must have been selected for Krum, but he couldn't leave her down there if Krum didn't make it. He couldn't leave anyone behind, but especially not her.
Spotting a sharp rock ten meters away, Harry made his way toward it planning to use it as a knife, the one thing he didn't transfigure for himself. Movement to his left brought his attention back to the hostages. A shark, jaws wide, sped towards Hermione. Harry desperately swam toward her to stop the shark, but the tank weighed him down with sluggish movements. He watched with horror as teeth sunk into the kelp tethering her leg. The kelp rope held strong, causing Hermione to be yanked sideways from the forward momentum. It was then that Harry remembered sharks weren't freshwater animals. This couldn't be a wild shark. Pushing through the initial terror, Harry realized the shark had legs instead of fins clad in red shorts and a grey tank top. The shark was Victor Krum partially transformed. The horror returned as he watched Krum chomp harder in his efforts to free Hermione. Harry feared she may lose the foot in the process. By the time he swam back to the captures, Krum had an arm around Hermione's waist swimming upward with her. At least she was safe, he comforted himself even as the pit grew deep in his belly again.
With Hermione on her ascension to the surface, Harry moved toward Ron's binds using the rock to saw through them. While he worked, Cedric made quick work of Cho's restraint offering Harry a friendly wave as he swam them toward the surface. That left the small blonde to be rescued. The watch on his wrist chimed an alert. Fifteen minutes until the end of the task. Concerned for her safety, Harry moved to cut the girl free when a grindylow hissed in his face.
"Only one."
A commotion in the field of seaweed caught the creature's attention, and she swam toward it. Harry took his opportunity, using his wand to sever the kelp as Cedric had. He knew he would need to be quick to save them both, but the tank was heavy even nearly empty. When the seaweed field began to settle, he knew trouble was soon to follow. A grindylow spotted him and let out a horrible shriek to alert her companions. As one, eight grindylow turned towards him, eyes slit in anger and screeching together. Yep, Harry was in trouble. He pushed Ron and the girl as hard as he could upward, hoping they would regain consciousness soon enough to swim to the surface.
The grindylow surrounded him, pulling at his hair, the suit, his respirator. With a hiss, one of the tubes broke away from the respirator releasing a flurry of bubbles making it even more difficult to see. Claws scratched at his arms, legs, face, everywhere. He heard the sound of mangling metal as one of the claws struck the bottom of his air tank creating a hole. It was nothing short of serendipity as the rapid release of pressurized air rocketed him toward the surface and away from the attack. The rocket launcher did not, however, stop once he reached the surface, sending him into the air and crashing to the platform. Harry desperately shoved the tank off his back as it continued sputtering.
"Harry!" The shout was one he knew well and was relieved to hear. Hermione appeared in his field of vision through the fog of his goggles. A towel dropped over his shoulders as she gently pulled the goggles from his face. She took in the wet suit he wore, the destroyed tank and respirator, and the goggles in her hand piecing together how Harry had managed the task. Laughing with relief and elation, she threw her arms around his neck pressing close to him.
"You are brilliant. Insane, and stupidly heroic, but brilliant."
Harry smiled into her neck and wrapped his arms around her with relief. They were both soaking wet and shivering, but her comfortable weight against him warmed him in a way no fire or warming charm could. He was disappointed when she pulled away but couldn't help but smile as she beamed at him.
"Can I just say," she asked, still holding onto his arms, "Muggle technology to beat a wizarding tournament? Very nice touch, Harry."
"Glad you approve. The simplest solution is sometimes the most mundane right?" He repeated her words back to her with a fond smile.
Shock crossed her face at the familiar words. "You remember that?" she asked
"Of course. Every time I use that pen."
She ran her thumb over the mark on his cheek left by the goggles giving him a soft knowing smile. Their little Muggle ways around.