Happy to see people are still reading, hope you're enjoying it!

The only thing in Max's head as he headed for the water at a jog was a litany of swearwords. He fumbled his robes and T-shirt over his head then kicked off his shoes and trousers. Nudging the pile aside with his foot, he stood on the side of the lake, with the stones digging into his feet, and took a deep breath.

First foot in. The shock of cold made him gasp out loud. After the relentless heat all day every day for the past three days, the sudden temperature change made it feel like an icy hand had just closed around his ankle.

And, thank you brain, he really wanted that mental image right now.

He gritted his teeth and powered on. The water crept up his calves, over his knees. He knew from the endless swimming he had done as a kid that the two worst points were going to be groin and chest. Just before the water hit the first of those, he stopped and looked over at the boat. It was probably only … he measured he distance against a Muggle swimming pool … probably fifty, sixty metres away? Easy enough to swim, when the temperature wasn't screwing you over. But he was already shivering and could barely feel his feet on the stony ground. Still, he needed to reach that boat, so he dived forwards into the water and started to front crawl towards the boat as fast as he could.

As he'd expected the chill stole the air from his lungs. He missed a few breaths while his lungs and chest muscles struggled to recover, and was very, very glad that the lake wasn't salt water because it hurt enough as it was, going up his nose like that. He reached the boat in what simultaneously felt like forever and no time at all, and clung onto the side to lift himself out of the chill, just for a second.

For the first time since he'd checked his watch, his brain caught up with the rest of him and informed him about the Plan. It wasn't a great plan, but then this wasn't a great scenario. Oliver had left from this boat, therefore he would be coming back to this boat, therefore hopefully if he was in trouble just underneath the boat, Max would be able to dive and find him.

With his newly functioning brain, Max made the sensible promise that if he hadn't found Oliver in three dives, he would alert the others. He still wore around his neck the charmed pendant Hilary had bought for them all last year which screamed at all the other paired necklace wearers if you squeezed it tightly for ten seconds.

Right. Time's ticking, then. He took a deep breath and dived, using the bottom of the boat for an extra push.

Almost instantly he lost most of his visibility. He swore again, and tried not to let panic consume his oxygen. He would only be able to potentially see Oliver within a very short distance, like, basically arm's length, but he'd expected this. That's partly why he'd told himself only two dives.

He stayed under for as long as he could, which turned out to be just over two minutes. He was actually a bit disappointed by that, he thought with a distracted part of his brain, while he clung to the side of the boat and breathed deeply. He used to be much better at holding his breath than that, but then again, this wasn't exactly a normal situation. His heart hadn't stopped racing since he'd first felt how cold the water was. It wasn't getting any warmer, either. Bits of him were just going numb.

Second time lucky, he thought as he put his face under and braced his feet against the boat for a push. The chill sucked at him again as he slid underwater. He went deeper this time, since now he had his bearings on where the boat was.

The water was darker and murkier than ever, and he could barely see his hand in front of his face. The lake was large enough to have its own currents, and they wafted against his cheeks like creepy fingers. He floated around in the darkness, waggling his hands and legs in the widest circles that he could manage in the increasingly futile hope that he would find Oliver that way. It had to have been ten minutes since he'd looked at his watch on the bank of the lake.

Max was just having the bleak thought that wizards were hard to kill, and accidental magic tended to accidentally save people's lives, when to his utmost shock he collided with something in the water.

As stupid as it sounded, even though he'd spent this entire time hoping to find Oliver, his first thought was still that it was a mermaid come to drag him to his death. So he panicked and scrabbled, and the thing which had collided with him also scrabbled. That was useful though, as it told Max that the figure had legs, and was therefore not a mermaid and therefore had to be Oliver. Relieved beyond words, he grabbed Oliver by whatever part he could reach (it was a joint if some kind, who knew if it was knee, armpit or elbow?) and kicked hard for the surface.

One look at Oliver when they surfaced convinced Max that he had been right in going to help: Oliver was gasping for air in huge, lung-rattling inhales and he was freezing cold to the touch. The gills that Gillyweed gave you on your neck were completely gone, and when their hands bumped as they trod water, he felt that the Gillyweed webbing had disappeared from Oliver's hands too. (He'd be lying if he said a small part of him wasn't dancing at the hand contact.) Wordlessly he helped Oliver climb back into the boat.

"Are you ok?" It was a stupid question, but he felt like he needed to say something.

"I'm fine!" Oliver's stinging tone, obvious even through the panting, made Max's heart sink. He knew that tone. Hilary used it sometimes, if she was feeling particularly embarrassed. He really didn't like that sort of reaction. Just get over being embarrassed already!

"Ok," he replied in as neutral a tone as he could. Oliver had obviously expected more of a reaction as there was a pause and then an unnaturally aggrieved tone:

"Which bit of 'don't panic?' didn't you understand? I wasn't speaking Mermish!"

Max wasn't usually at all snappy or bad-tempered but given the stress of the last fifteen minutes or so, he allowed himself to say, "The bit where you stayed underwater past your Gillyweed's expiration time!"

Oliver rested his head on the side of the boat and glared at Max. The wet hair in his eyes somewhat spoiled the effect, and Max had shared a room with Kai for four years now so very few glares could affect him now anyway. He kind of wanted to brush the hair out of Oliver's eyes.

"Did the mermaids try to kidnap you?" he asked, before his brain-to-mouth filter had quite kicked in. Om wow that sounded so stupid. Oliver snorted and said, as if he could read Max's mind,

"Don't be stupid. The merpeople keep themselves to themselves. I just forgot my wand and ran into a really persistent lot of Grindylows."

Max shuddered. "That doesn't sound fun either."

Oliver shrugged. Because Max was, as mentioned, very used to Kai, he could see the signs of someone pulling their usual composed mask back on. "It wasn't fun, no." Oliver brushed his hair out of his eyes and blinked at Max, as if actually noticing him for the first time. "Do you want to get into the boat?"

Max couldn't help a big grin spreading over his face.

All opinions welcome!

xIlbx