Thank you for every single follow/favourite and review. It means a lot! Is anyone else missing the angst-y bits, or is it just me?

Disclaimer: Bagman's speech is taken directly from Goblet of Fire.

21. The Second Task

The cold air blew through all my layers of clothing and rattled my bones. The lake below looked menacing beneath the grey sky, threatening to unleash a downpour from the heavens. Somewhere behind me the twins were taking bets for the second task, followed by Lee with his sarcastic and completely biased comments. All the Triwizard champions were visible from our spot by the barrier a few levels up – all but one Harry Potter.

"Still no sign of the boy wonder?" Lee asked, gasping as he pushed through the crowd to get to us.

"Nope," Angelina answered, blowing hot breath into her gloved hands.

"What about his minions?"

"Lee! Don't call them that," Alicia chastised.

"Can't see them either," Katie said, rubbing her gloved hands over her arms.

"Odd. Fred and George said McGonagall called for them last night. No one's seen them since," Lee said.

"Do you think it had something to do with the task?" Alicia asked.

Lee looked over to me and quirked an eyebrow.

"How am I supposed to know?" I said. "Dumbledore doesn't tell me anything about the tasks."

And it was true. The only inside knowledge I had of the tasks was that they all involved magical creatures somehow, revealed to me by Hagrid. Since the task was being held in or around the Black Lake, I could only assume it wouldn't be anything less challenging than the dragons – which was saying something.

Hagrid had actually let it slip that there would be Grindylows involved in this task during his brief period of time off teaching after that horrid Rita Skeeter's article in the Daily Prophet. I had gone to visit him in his hut to find him sulking alongside a drooling Fang. We spoke about Skeeter's nasty tendency to alter quotes and spread rumours about people as we snacked on his rock cakes (I had to take miniscule bites to avoid breaking my teeth). This led on to the topic of Harry Potter and how she continued to probe into his life, masking him as a self-absorbed, attention seeking arse. It did not help that a Slytherin student completely against Harry and Dumbledore, and therefore Hagrid, had given misleading information to the reporter that only furthered her derisive twaddle of the half giant. For a moment I had thought of Abigail.

It was a pleasant surprise, then, seeing Harry's mousy little friend, Hermione, digging into Skeeter in the Three Broomsticks on a Hogsmeade weekend which the twins had so graciously escorted me. They, too, had witnessed the two females and overheard a few snippets. When they saw Skeeter leaving, they snuck out for a little sneak dungbomb attack.

I looked down at a lower platform; Hagrid's large form was visible amongst the other professors. His voice was booming and confident, cheering on Harry before the task had even begun. He was much cheerful now, having many students and professors defending his heritage and position in the school. I couldn't imagine Hogwarts without him.

"He here yet?" Fred asked as he and George emerged from the crowd and huddled against us for warmth. It was easier to tell the twins apart now: George always gravitated towards Alicia despite Fred's efforts of reaching her first to confuse everyone as to their identity.

"Lee only just asked us. No Potter has not arrived in the three seconds that passed since you last asked," Angelina said, rolling her eyes.

"Alright, love, no need to snap," Fred said, hands help up, edging away from Angelina and closer to me.

"Yeah, Ange, don't get your knickers in a twist," George added, his arms around Alicia's middle.

"It's the cold – she can't stand it," Katie said.

"I don't think anyone's too chuffed about it. No one else is biting our balls off," Fred grumbled. He turned his attention to me. "You'll be nice to me, won't you, Princess?"

"I will if you stop calling me that," I said.

"But you're my Princess Ella! I am not worthy of addressing you otherwise."

"Fred, look over there," George called, cutting me off from cursing his brother. They looked over to the judges, where there was a boy with flaming red hair.

"Still here in the place of Crouch?" Fred asked, looking away from the boy, his lips pressed together.

"Apparently so."

"Who's that? Another Weasley?" I asked.

"Unfortunately," George said with a sneer.

Another question was ready on my tongue, but Lee yelled out and pointed to a harried Harry pushing to the front of the platform with the other champions by the judge's tables and then bent over, gasping for breath. The Gryffindors all roared. They were silenced as Bagman's voice carried out through the students with the aid of the Sonorus Charm.

He counted down from three and immediately the stands erupted in applause. Harry stripped his shoes and socks and stuffed what looked to be seaweed into his mouth, then waded into the lake. The Slytherins jeering and catcalling was loud over the other students. Fred and George sent them glares and carefully felt around their pockets.

"Don't," Alicia warned, watching them from the corner of her eyes. "Not now."

George smirked and pecked her on the cheek, returning his eyes to Harry. He looked sick; his robes soaked through with the icy water and his skin deathly pale. I felt immense worry for the boy, the other champions having already disappeared into the depths of the lake, leaving behind a pathetic looking Harry. My worry turned to panic as his hands clawed at his throat and his face twisted. Then, all of a sudden, he flopped into the water.

"Is he ok?" I asked, leaning over the barrier to see if Harry had drowned.

"Oi, easy, don't fall over," Fred said, pulling me back by my coat. "I'm sure he's fine. Harry won't go down that easily."

"That's not very reassuring, Fred," Katie frowned.

"Or you can imagine him losing, perhaps even the loss of proper function in his lungs desperately for something to gossip about. You need to stay positive, Kates," Fred said.

"Fred! That's horrible," Angelina said.

"Tosser," Katie murmured and flipped him the finger.

Time dragged on as we waited for a champions to emerge. We had no way of knowing what was happening under water. The boys attempted to amuse us by practicing some of the card tricks from their muggle magic sets, but quickly gave up when George shuffled the deck and sent them flying into the lake. They then resumed to take more bets, adopting a sixth sense of Divination and predicting the times of certain champions. It was sad that some students were actually buying into it.

My hands were numb under my gloves and my teeth wouldn't stop chattering, seemingly more so than any of the Gryffindors. Fred kept asking me whether I wanted to go back inside and warm myself up, but I refused to miss out on the outcome of the task. At least for the first task I had spent minimum time in the cold watching Harry against the dragon – at least then I saw something at all.

"If we knew what was attacking them under there we could be cheering them on," George sighed. No longer were the girls trying to change the boys' attitudes when it came to the violence of the task, they simply went ignored.

"Grindylows," I answered.

"Go Grindylows!" the twins and Lee cheered, attracting odd stares from the other students.

"You guys are just…I don't even know why I bother," Katie sighed, turning to take a steaming cup of tea a fifth year was handing out.

"Were you the ones cheering on the dragon in the first task?" I asked, recalling the voices loud above all others in the first task.

They puffed out their chests. "Indeed, it was," Lee said. "Wait – you were at the first task?"

"I only got to see Harry. Bonnie took me. We were right at the back and left as soon as Harry got the egg."

"Here you go," Angelina said, appearing from the crowd with a bag of Jelly Slugs and offering some to me.

"Thanks, Angelina," I said, my fingers on the edge of my glove getting ready to take it off when Fred stopped me.

"Allow me, dearest," he said. He pulled out a handful of Jelly Slugs and lifted one to my lips. "Open up, love."

"I can eat myself you know," I said, nonetheless opening my mouth and accepting the sweet. He had not shown his sweet side so much since Boxing Day when he had given me my present, and it was rather odd having him cater to my needs all at once.

"Pathetic he is," George muttered.

"I think it's cute," Alicia cooed and winked.

"Me? Cute?" Fred scoffed at the idea through a mouthful of the sweets. "I would have much preferred chivalrous, or sexy. Fred Weasley is not cute."

Katie pinched his cheek. "You're adorable, Freddie!"

"Gerroff, you barmy nut."

My eyes wandered over to Madame Pomfrey. She was tending to Fleur, so far the only champion to have returned, and she was without the object she had to recover. She looked shaken and weak, her torn robes and lightly weeping cuts only worsening her glowing appearance. Even hurt she looked gorgeous.

A splash from the lake and the loud voices of students caught my attention. A handsome bronze haired boy jumped up from the lake. He gasped in large gulps of air and shook his head, his matted hair obstructing his eyes. Beside him was a beautiful girl with dark hair. I gasped.

"People!" I exclaimed. "The things they have to retrieve – people!" It was clear now, why Fleur looked so anxious. She hadn't been able to save her special person. But surely Dumbledore would not allow anyone to stay down there. He was sure to have some way of getting them back completely safe and unharmed.

Fred and George looked uncharacteristically worried for a moment. "Ron," they chorused.

"You said Hermione hasn't been seen either," Alicia said. "Maybe...maybe they turned up late, like Harry."

But George was shaking his head. "No, they took Ron. He's down there, they both are."

Alicia grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"But the champions only have one person to save each," Angelina frowned, watching the two students being huddled by Madame Pomfrey as she wrapped them in thick towels.

"Harry has Ron, definitely, but Hermione…"

"Krum," Alicia said, her eyes widening. "He took her to the ball."

Bagman announced the time: Cedric was one minute over.

As we waited for the other champions to appear the Gryffindors explained to me about the other champions: Cedric was a Hufflepuff seventh year, one of the most popular in the school – especially amongst the female population due to his dashing looks (although Fred and George refused to believe Cedric was any better than them) but yet it was his modesty and shyness that attracted girls to his appearance, not at all arrogant. The girl he had saved was Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw who he had taken to the ball. Then there was the Durmstrang boy, Viktor Krum, a successful Quidditch player for Bulgaria. Lastly, was Fleur, the beautiful Beauxbatons student who I was informed was half Veela. No wonder she was so enchantingly attractive, I thought, realising why she looked so good even covered in mud and cuts.

Viktor Krum emerged not long after, his face twisted and gruesome with sharp jagged teeth and a pointed nose. He shook his head and it morphed back into a human face. A girl beside him spluttered. He hoisted her up onto the stand and wrapped her in a towel – Hermione.

"What's taking him so long?" Angelina asked, peering into the dark water. "I wish we could see what's happening."

"Doesn't matter now, he's lost the task for sure," Lee said, leaning against the railing, his hat dangerously close to tipping off.

Hagrid had told me all about Grindylows when he had let it slip: a small, horned water demon, sometimes kept as pets for merpeople – which was most likely the case here – with spindly fingers and pointed fangs. They were terrible once let loose. I didn't want to think about Harry being the only one down there with them – who knew if he had gotten hold of Ron yet.

He had also described to me the variety of merpeople around the world. The Black Lake Merpeople Colony were known to have green hair, yellow eyes and grey skin, and were incredibly tall. They intimidated me from Hagrid's description, the only person who could make the most dangerous creatures sound cute and tame. Yet despite their mysterious and frightening nature, I was awfully intrigued by them, as I was with most magical creatures. They were fascinating creatures, opting to keep the status of beast rather than being: It was Chief Elfrida Clagg who claimed they could not be classed as beings as their language of Mermish could not be deciphered above water. However, in 1811 Minister Grogan Stump allowed their status of being, but they returned to be treated as beasts because they did not want to be categorised with vampires and hags. Their history was remarkable, something I found myself researching after hours in the library with Filch standing guard.

Just as my thoughts turned to Harry being in the presence of such frightening creatures, heads popped out of the water – three of them, in fact. Harry's black hair, Ron's ginger and long blonde hair that could only belong to Fleur's hostage.

The crowd screamed and shouted as the last champion returned and helped forward the blonde girl. Merpeople swam around them, as if accompanying them to the where the judges were standing.

Fred and George were jumping and cheering, throwing their fists in the air and skipping in circles. I laughed as Lee twirled me around, kissed me on the forehead and then jumped onto Angelina, breaking off her hug with Katie. George sought out Alicia, and upon finding her, grabbed her in a deep kiss. An overexcited young student bumped into them and they broke apart laughing.

All the students continued to cheer as the judges huddled around in a conference once Dumbledore had stood from his conversation with the chief merperson. Fred hopped over to me (what appeared to be a third year had just ran over his foot) and leant on my shoulder.

"You alright there?" I laughed, fumbling under his weight.

"Bloody little git," he grumbled, bending over to rub his ankle.

"He was excited! Leave him alone," I lightly smacked him.

"Oh yeah, defend the little shit."

"Fred Weasley – shut up."

He grinned. His foot must have recovered as he stood up straight again and grabbed my hands, twirling me around in a dance.

"What are you doing?" I laughed, attempting to hide my face behind my hair from the curious glances.

"Dancing," he said. "Why? Can I not dance?"

"It's a bit of an odd time to dance," I laughed.

He dipped me dangerously low to the ground. I gripped tighter on his shoulders.

"Fred – stop! Help me up, you arse."

I wanted so desperately to glare and look threatening, but the mood was so light and carefree I couldn't help but laugh.

He helped me up again, just as the judges finished their discussion. Ludo Bagman's voice broke through the air, making us jump. The crowd was silenced again.

"Ladies and gentleman, we have reached our decision. Mer-chieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows…"

Fred and I snuck back to the front where the others were as the points were being awarded.

"Miss Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by Grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

The crowd applauded politely.

"Well, that was lucky," George said.

"I was sure she would have gotten less than that," Fred agreed. They both referred to their parchment, scribbled with bets.

Bagman continued. "Mr Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour. We therefore award him forty-seven points."

The students, Hufflepuffs in particular, roared. I caught a glimpse of Cho giving Cedric a beaming smile.

"Forty-seven out of fifty!" the girls gasped.

"Mr Viktor Krum, used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."

The Durmstrang students and their Headmaster, Karkaroff, clapped hard. Now, for Harry.

"Mr Harry Potter used Gillyweed to great effect. He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Mer-chieftainess informs us that Mr Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."

I held my breath.

"Most of the judges," – Bagman gave Karkaroff a particularly nasty look – "feel that his shows moral fibre and merits full marks. However…Mr Potter's score is forty-five points."

The students were in an uproar once again, most elated and some outraged. The twins hollered, cheering on, "MORAL FIBRE WINS!" as they collected their winnings, despite Harry now being in joint first with Cedric. The noise was so loud it almost drowned out the announcement for the third and final task.

I joined the girls in a group hug, excited to be sharing this experience with the other students. Lee huddled in close to us and said, "Party in the common room! Food's already waiting," to which he winked at me.

It was at the party that I finally got to have my first real conversation with Harry and his friends without feeling blustered. Fred led me to them in a corner and introduced me again.

"You were really good – well, as far as I could see," I said after shaking Harry's hand. Their gazes were making me uncomfortable, so I carried on. "It was really nice of you to save Fleur's sister as well as Ron. And Ron – you helped saved her too even though you were out all that time!"

The young Weasley boy blushed at the comment. Hermione rolled her eyes, and mouthed, "Boys."

"Thanks, Ella," Harry said. "What year did you say you were in again?"

"She's in her fifth year. Or rather, she would be. But she's not a student, she's a squib working here," Fred answered before I had the chance to open my mouth. My eyes widened.

"Fred!" I hissed. I peered out the corner of my eyes to see the trio looking shocked and uncomfortable.

"Really?" Hermione asked. "That's fascinating. May I ask how you came about here?"

I sent Fred a glare before smiling awkwardly at Hermione. "Er – it was Dumbledore. Or – no, actually it was my guardian, Bill. He knew Dumbledore, and then Dumbledore came and offered me a position here, where I also get some lessons. I haven't been here long, actually."

"And you are friends with him," Hermione said, pointedly looking at Fred openly ogling a passing girl's bum.

"Unfortunately," I replied. Hermione giggled.

Fred snapped his head back. "What?"

"Nothing," I said, and rolled my eyes.

I spoke to the trio for a long time, happily answering their questions about my status and asking some of my own, attempting not to ask them – particularly Harry – any obvious questions: "Oh, Harry, how does it feel to be the only person to have ever lived the killing curse? How is it, knowing that everyone in the wizarding worlds knows of you?"

As Hermione was ranting about her newest project spew – "It's not spew, it's S.P.E.W!" – Fred leant in and whispered in my ear. "It gets easier, doesn't it?"

I turned my head to look in his eyes, awfully close to mine. I smiled. "Yes, thanks."

The clock showed that it was half past eleven; the twins were meant to have arrived ages ago. I yawned and fiddled with the rose pendant on my neck. They had mentioned that it was Ron's birthday, so I assumed they were giving him some late night hell.

My eyes wandered over to the mantle above the fireplace where I placed the object that had arrived earlier in the day. At first I thought it was an accident; that an owl somehow flew into the kitchen and dropped someone else's package by me. But it had my name on it: Ella Wood.

It was a late Christmas present from a relative of Bill's. I was surprised to open a long letter under a few photos of Bill, Nanny Anne and other people I had never seen before. Inside was also a brand new snow globe with a figure of a flying Quidditch player in the Puddelmere United uniform. The scene was of a Quidditch pitch in the rain which slowly died away with light beams shining down, greenery and flowers emerging from the ground. In the letter I was informed that the weather would change along with the seasons: it was now depicting the transition of spring.

It was from a nephew of Bill's, recently graduated from Hogwarts and was now playing Keeper for Puddelmere United. His parents notified him of Bill's sudden passing, and despite living in Scotland he had not attended his funeral – apparently he was at try-outs. He took it upon himself to owl me once he had found out I was residing at Hogwarts, wondering if there was anything I needed that I could go to him and his family.

Oliver. The letter was signed by Oliver Wood. He had been in Gryffindor, a Keeper in the Quidditch team and captain – it was a really long letter – and was primarily living in London, although he visited his family in Scotland often.

I wanted to ask the twins about him, what with them being on the Quidditch team and Oliver having graduated in the summer before. I felt a surge of warmth when he had concluded his letter with heartfelt concern. It felt like I still had a loving family, one who I could connect with through Bill and Nanny Anne. It did not matter that I did not know this boy, I wanted to.

"Ella?"

"Over here."

"What are you staring at?"

There was only one twin standing behind my chair.

"Where's your clone?" I asked, knowing full well this was Fred.

"Angelina dragged him off somewhere as soon as we finished giving Ronnie his present. I legged it before she could get to me," he said.

"Angelina?"

"Probably taking him to Alicia – she was probably annoying her."

"Ah."

Lately, Alicia had gotten very anxious because of her exams. She was always with a book and carried around spare sheets of parchment and twelve quills with full ink pots. The other girls were not as worried as her, and often grew tiresome at her nagging at them to revise. Even George had trouble keeping her calm most times; Alicia was quick to jump down his throat about his lack of concern, yet he still had more of an influence than most.

"Poor bloke," I said.

"His girl, his problem," Fred shrugged.

I laughed. "What do you know about Oliver Wood?"

"Why?" he quirked an eyebrow, spreading himself out on an armchair.

"He's Bill's nephew. He owled me earlier," I pointed to the snow globe, "And sent a letter saying how I can stay with him or his family during the breaks."

"You or his family?"

"He's in London, visits them sometimes. Were you friends?"

"Yeah, I guess. He was a proper Quidditch nut though. Good bloke. You seriously thinking about this?"

I nodded. "Well, yeah. I mean – I don't really want to move out of Ottery, but with Oliver…he's practically family. Distant, though, of course, I've never even met the guy, but…I don't know."

"Did you reply to him?" he asked.

"Yes. Nothing as detailed as what he wrote me, though."

Fred stared into a small dark corner in the kitchen, his face distant. "How about you invite him over for the next Hogsmeade weekend? You can get to know him and then make your decision."

I grinned. "That's brilliant!"

"Of course it is – I came up with it," Fred winked. "Is there any leftover pie from dinner?"

"Apple or chicken?" I asked, already on my feet and slicing one of each.

"Both."

He grinned when he saw I already had both in each hand.

"You know me too well," he said. "Is this the last of it? Boy, George's going to have a fit - he couldn't stop eating this earlier. Was about to get more when the food disappeared."

"His loss. Pie is just..."

"Orgasmic?" Fred suggested, his lip curling up in a smirk.

I scrunched my nose. "Sure. Whatever."

"Do you know what else is orgasmic?"

"I don't want to know!"

Fred laughed. "you're so innocent."

"You're so corrupt."

"I wasn't going to say anything dirty! Honestly." I gave him a pointed stare. "Ok then, not that dirty."

I sat back in my chair and looked over him as he ate, his hair moving into his face despite him repeatedly brushing it behind an ear.

"Here," I pulled a hairband off my wrist and held it out to him.

He put his plate down and took it. "How the hell do you use this? Show me," he said, stretching the rubber as far as he could. It snapped against his finger.

I took the hairband and stood behind him. My fingers brushed through his hair, softer than I ever could have imagined, and bunched it together at the nape of his neck, pulling the band over it three times. I tugged on the end.

"There you go."

"How do I look?" he asked, puffing his chest out and posing.

"It actually looks quite good."

"Of course it would, it's me we're talking about. I pull it off better than my brother."

"You're brother does his hair like that?"

"Yeah – Bill. He's the oldest. Mum hates his hair. She kept threatening to cut ours when she saw how long it was getting, but we managed to distract her with a few explosions here and there. He has a fang earring, too."

"Sounds hot."

He scoffed. "Please, you have me here to admire."

"I'd like to meet your family one day," I said, resting my chin in the palms of my hands.

Fred looked up from his pie and smiled. "You will."

I smiled back, my heart warming at his sincerity.

"So. Oliver Wood. Tell me everything you know. I'll owl him in the morning."