A/N Thanks everyone for your reviews! They keep me motivated to write! And thanks to the guests who I can't directly respond to. I appreciate you taking the time to read and review too!
**********HP***************
His head was spinning.
There was a roar in his ears like an angry tide slamming against a breakwall. Around him, the uncontrolled rising magic seeping from his pores was swirling and creating a mini tornado of flying objects pelting themselves against the stone walls of the tower. Harry didn't notice the snapping or popping noises of the staticky air molecules exploding like a shower of firecrackers. For him time seemed to have come to an abrupt and silent standstill.
A dozen emotions were warring inside of him as his mind tried desperately to process the harsh and stark reality that now presented itself with his father's absence.
First to breach the surface was abject terror.
Once again, his parent had been taken from him. With no warning or mercy or regard for Harry himself.
Just simply taken.
Despite Harry's above average skills and talents for a fourteen-year-old wizard-in-training, with the feeling of stability abruptly taken from him he felt entirely helpless. It was too much to bear the thought that Sirius was now gone in a blink of an eye, just like James and Lily Potter had been that terrible night. Once more leaving behind a son who, although older now and able to care for himself if necessary, still needed love and guidance.
Alone again, the scared child inside of Harry screamed.
In a split second the part of him that feared the painful loss of the solid anchor in this world also then spiraled into a reactionary worry that he'd not only lose his wonderful life but also be sentenced back to the mercy of his horrid relations who didn't understand what Harry's extraordinary life outside of Privet Drive entailed. The ones who had absolutely no idea of his role in the wizarding world or the lengths he was expected to go to by just about everyone in preserving it.
His mind raged over having all of his happiness and comfort stolen from him, just when he was starting to trust in it. After years of wishing and hoping to be rescued from his sad and loveless life in Surrey, he finally had been and suddenly it was all brutally ripped away.
The heavy sensation of being entirely bereft momentarily paralyzed him, even as a tiny voice in his reminded him that there was still something he could do about it.
That part of him, the part that was rational and calculating, began to forcefully rise to convince him that this was just merely an element of a task given to the champions, and all would be well as soon as it was over.
It was a challenge, nothing more, and the people administering the tournament would never be so foolish as to actually endanger anyone who was actively competing.
Surely there was no real threat to his father, was there?
From what Harry understood of past tournaments, it was only the champions who put their lives and magic on the line, not the spectators.
He shut his eyes tightly and could swear he heard Hermione's voice in his head telling him to calm down. Chiding him to focus on the game plan Harry and Sirius had gone over so many times that it all should just be second nature at this point.
Nothing had changed just because his father wasn't going to be watching, since Harry was always going to have it go it alone once he was in the lake. He just needed to do what they talked about him doing, find his father and make it to the finish.
Simple.
But as the seconds ticked by, the blood rushing through his veins setting his nerves on fire, there was one emotion that finally broke through the strongest of them all, pushing all others aside.
Rage.
Harry was furious.
How dare they? How dare anyone take Sirius from him?
Because there was no way Sirius would have gone on his own, Harry knew that for a fact. How many times in the past weeks had his father promised him that he would be right there to make sure that nothing bad happened?
And Harry believed him, because Sirius never broke his promises.
Sirius would be here right now, if he'd been able. He never would have just up and gone off somewhere this of all mornings without letting Harry know first. It was as simple as that.
Harry knew that if it was up to his over-protective father, Sirius would be here making sure that Harry was prepared and ready. He'd be fussing over feeding Harry a good breakfast so he would have enough energy to make the daunting swim. Or cracking little jokes to lighten the mood and soothe Harry's nerves.
Then Sirius would give Harry a pep talk and a warm hug and Harry would know that everything would be okay even if he didn't succeed.
Because it didn't matter to his Papa whether Harry won or lost. Sirius was always proud of Harry as long as he tried his best and all Harry wanted to do was to make his father proud.
But now the sadistic people behind this bloody tournament had taken Harry's father against his will.
From their very home, if Harry had to hazard a guess.
This was simply not on, and as far as the enraged boy was concerned, someone was going to pay.
It may have felt like an eternity in Harry's spinning mind, but really only a moment had passed since Dobby broke the bad news, and the little elf was still in the background trying desperately to avoid the whirling projectiles even as he continued to wail his pleas to get Harry to snap into action.
Coming out of his trance, Harry blinked, took a deep breath to calm and center himself and regain control over his magic, causing the chaotic swirl to stop as books, parchments, shoes and plates fell to the ground in one instantaneous bang.
Ignoring the mess, Papa would scold him for it later, and that was okay because it meant that he would be around to scold him, Harry shot to his feet and scrambled into the clothing provided to him for the task.
His mind was racing and highly agitated as he snapped the wand holster onto his arm and then a sheaf for the knife Sirius had given him for Christmas tied around his right calf. His veins were pumping blood hard and fast, so intense he could hear the rush of it in his ears and it was all he could do to contain the energy that was fighting to once again burst forth from his chest.
Moving quickly but deliberately, he tried not to bark at Dobby when the little creature began to herd him towards the door. Harry knew he needed to get going, but he also wasn't going to leave until he had everything he needed to rescue his father out of that damned lake.
How many times had Papa cautioned him that recklessness would always get him into trouble? Even though time was already ticking, Harry wasn't leaving until he was absolutely sure he was prepared.
The bag of gillyweed that Remus had picked up for him in the Maldives was sitting in the center of the dining table and Harry thrust his hand into it and pulled out two large clumps of the wormy tendrils that he stuffed into each pocket, suppressing the urge to vomit over the idea that he was going to have ingest it.
One last pass around the sitting room had Harry grabbing the new prescription swimming goggles that Sirius had insisted on getting him fitted for a week after their return from their holiday when it was clear that Harry would be significantly handicapped in the brackish water without visual aid. Harry was blind as a bat and he also wasn't a particularly strong swimmer despite all the practice during their holiday and they both knew that he'd need all the help he could get navigating the murky depths of the lake.
"Please hurry, sir," Dobby wailed as he wrung his bony, shriveled hands.
"I'm going, I'm going," Harry hissed as he grabbed his cloak from the rack by the door and threw it on.
Slamming the door behind them, Harry took off down the stairs and sped into the corridor at a run, aggressively pushing his way through the stream of students who were meandering their way down to the lake to watch the task. His mind elsewhere, he ignored both the good luck wishes as well as the insults from those supporting the other champions.
All he cared about now was getting to his father as quickly as possible.
He was out of the castle and pounding his way down the path towards the lake when he abruptly came across Remus who was jogging up the path to him. Refusing to slow down even for a second, Harry forced the older man to turn around and chase after him at a sprint.
"They've got him, Remus!" Harry barked out with a scowl as he pumped his fists for speed. "Those arseholes took my father!"
Struggling to keep up with the determined boy, Remus tried to call out words of assurance that Sirius would be okay. That no one, least of Remus himself, was going to let anything happen to him.
Now truly furious, Harry paused just briefly enough to flash Remus a cold smile that didn't reach his snapping green eyes.
"Oh really?" he scoffed. "Tell me. How many times have bad things happened to me or Sirius when they shouldn't have? Can you really promise me that he's one hundred percent safe under that water when we already know someone is messing with this tournament?"
Unable to refute the claim, Remus remained quiet as Harry nodded.
"That's what I thought," he growled. "But they're not getting him this time, Remus. If there's even a scratch on my father when I find him, I swear to you that I will kill every last person who had a hand in this fucking tournament."
It wasn't the bold use of uncharacteristic profanity that shocked Remus. It was the cold mask of hostility and resolve on Harry's face, suddenly making him appear much older than any fourteen-year-old had a right to look. Too much like James Potter in the days during the war. In that split second, the werewolf caught a brief glimpse of the powerful wizard that Albus kept insisting would be the one to go toe-to-toe with Voldemort himself.
Too unnerved to speak, he could only watch as Harry took off again like he was shot from a cannon. Moving so fast he was almost flying as he rounded the far side of the lake to take his place with the other champions.
Brave, noble and unfailingly kindhearted Harry had just threatened to kill the people responsible for Sirius being forced under the water, and Remus shockingly had no trouble believing that the boy would do exactly as he said he would if something went wrong. He'd seen that exact same look on James' face once or twice back in the day too, which was what made so many Death Eaters and Voldemort himself fear the young man.
Merlin help them all if Harry didn't find his new father in absolutely perfect shape.
Late February in the Scottish highlands was cold by anyone's standards. As Harry stood restlessly with his competitors at the edge of the water, his heavy cloak tossed angrily aside on the wet ground, he waited impatiently for the task to start and shook his head at the ruthlessness of the designers of this task. Forcing them into the freezing waters was a truly evil sort of challenge but Harry didn't even feel the brisk air at the moment. He was too focused on the job ahead of him and it didn't matter what conditions he was forced to endure to save his father.
Across from him Ludo Bagman was throwing Harry a creepy smile of glee and it took a large part of Harry's resolve not to pull his wand out and hex the man just on principle. Not that he really knew Bagman at all, but the handful of very brief encounters they'd had with each other since the Quidditch World Cup in the summer, as well as the events for the tournament, left Harry with a distinct feeling of revulsion for the overly loud and garish man that he couldn't quite explain.
He was also vaguely aware of a painful stitch in his side from running flat out from the castle to arrive on time, but he ignored it. There was no time to pamper himself right now.
Later, after Sirius was safe, Harry would worry about his own physical condition.
While the instructions were given and the spectators cheered in the makeshift stands, Harry concentrated on the breathing techniques that Sirius had taught him during their training sessions. Forcing air in and out of his lungs at a steady pace calmed his racing heartbeat and cleared his mind a little more, making him able to put his focus on the spells he'd been learning over the past few weeks.
He barely heard the sharp whistle that signified the beginning of his precious sixty minutes of time, but luckily it was shrill enough to snap him into action. Along with the three other champions, Harry took in a deep breath and then thrust himself head first into the icy waters, jamming a fistful of gillyweed into his mouth as he went.
Sirius and Remus had both explained to him how the plant worked, so he worried more about the shock of the freezing cold surrounding him than he did about the piercing pains on the sides of his neck where he knew his gills were growing. When he felt on the verge of suffocation, he finally remembered to release the air he'd been holding in and took his first sweet gulp of lake water.
Honestly, he hadn't fully believed his father when Sirius explained the transformation Harry would undergo, but now that the water was flowing easily through his new gills, Harry smiled for the first time all morning. Looking at his hands and feet, he also saw the promised webbing and flippers and a faint ray of hope blossomed in his chest. Happily, the water was also no longer stabbing him with icy pinpricks and he was feeling much, much better.
Harry glanced at his watch, took note of the time, and then shot off like a bullet towards the center of the lake.
Now that he was transformed and moving easily through the water, the only thought going through his mind was to make it to the merpeople village as quickly as possible. He didn't want his father to spend one more second than was necessary below the surface where there were too many risks of something going wrong. There was also the possibility of several underwater creatures getting in his path and he didn't have time to muck about with them, so he kept himself sharp as he peered intently through the ten feet of visibility surrounding him as he swam.
As he struck out towards the center, the water around him grew increasingly darker with the only flashes of color being the tiny specks of silver from the schools of fish darting past. Knowing that the village was most likely at the bottom and that he'd have to eventually search further below the surface if he wanted to find it, Harry gracefully used his webbed hands and feet to kick himself into a smooth downward flip as he dove deep.
Every now and then he caught sight of dark columns of thick grasses waving gently along brown banks of dully glimmering stones. Moving forward as quickly as he could, with his eyes flicking back and forth to the hands of his watch ticking away his time limit, he finally came across what appeared to be a vast underwater light green grassy field.
It looked far too serene to be entirely benign, considering what he knew of the lake's landscape. Moving cautiously, he was expecting the attack when it came as a small horned water demon grabbed him around the ankle and threatened to pull him down into the weeds.
The grindylow bared its little fangs menacingly and a surge of anger reared up in Harry's head at the tiny creature impeding his progress towards rescuing his father. Harry kicked the thing ruthlessly in the head and then drew his wand from its holster. Remembering his lessons on wordless spells, he cast a silent Relashio!. Immediately, scalding streams of water issued from his wand and struck the grindylow grabbing at him, as well as the two others that had come to join their friend. The boiling water seared their green skin and they howled in protest.
Harry didn't have time for this nonsense, so he furiously shot several more hexes at them before they backed off, shaking their fists at him in rage but keeping their distance. Convinced that they would trouble him no further, he kicked off again and sped forward.
As the precious minutes ticked by, Harry was starting to struggle with keeping his fear in check as he futilely searched for the village and any sign of his father in distress. The lake was absolutely enormous and even moving as quickly as his transfigured limbs allowed him, it was still a great distance to search. On the verge of panicking, Harry finally found himself absurdly confronted with the unmistakable and scowling face of Moaning Myrtle hovering in the depths in front of him.
It had been ages since he'd last seen the poor wretch of a ghost who had spent decades haunting the girl's toilet where she was killed by the basilisk that Harry had slain almost two years prior. For a brief second he felt guilty for not searching her out again afterwards, considering he knew how despondent and lonely she was. She'd helped him once upon a time and he'd never really properly thanked her in all the chaos from his time in the Chamber.
Shocked to see her in such an unlikely place, Harry gave her a sincere smile hopefully indicating that he was pleased to see her which seemed to thaw whatever annoyance she was feeling for him at the moment. She actually even managed to let out a girlish giggle and if she'd had any blood to rush to her face, Harry swore she would have even blushed.
"You want to try over there," she said, pointing in the direction off to his side. Being a ghost, the water didn't interfere with her ability to speak thankfully. "I won't come with you...I don't like them much, they always chase me when I get too close."
Immensely relieved to have some assistance in the great expanse of darkness, Harry beamed and gave her a nod of genuine appreciation before blowing her a kiss and darting off in the direction she'd indicated. Behind him, Myrtle giggled a little more and flipped around to continue to watch the other champions who were far behind her sweet Harry.
As the minutes passed and the darkness of the water remained unyielding, Harry briefly worried for just a second that perhaps Myrtle was just having him on in some sort of retribution for his lack of attention to her over the past two years. But just as the unpleasant thought crept up into his mind, his ears began to pick up the faint notes of singing that was remarkably similar to the sounds that his egg made.
Recognizing the hated verses of the merpeople's melodic chant, he pushed harder in their direction, catching a small snatch of new lines added to it.
Your time's half gone, so tarry not
Lest what you seek stays here to rot
A lump of fear jumped into his throat at the reminder until he found himself suddenly gliding into a cluster of stone structures, crudely made but distinctly resembling small dwellings. From the dark depths slowly appeared groups of bizarrely hideous faces that resembled nothing like the storybook features of mermaids from his childhood. These beings with their sickly gray skin and long strands of algae green hair were hideously ugly.
Not the beauties of legend who enraptured sailors to their own peril.
As Harry moved further forward, the little dwellings grew in number as several of the merpeople gathered around him, their yellow eyes and broken teeth flashing at him as they leered with creepy smiles and clutched their spears in a very unfriendly manner.
Harry supposed that he should be wary of them, especially as the crowd seemed to grow quickly the further he made his way into their prehistoric looking village, but quite frankly he was simply too angry to worry about how wildly he was outnumbered. These ugly creatures had aided in putting his father in danger, and if they were stupid enough to get in his way of rescuing Sirius, he wasn't going to hesitate in retaliating with force.
Eventually he found what could only be construed as the merpeople's town square. In the center was the group that was singing the haunting tune that had drawn him to them and next to them was a large boulder of sorts shaped into an enormous merperson.
Attached to the boulder merperson's tail, bound tightly in dark green ropes, was Harry's father.
Sirius wasn't alone there either. Next to him Harry saw Hermione, Cho and a petite blonde girl who looked very much like a miniature Fleur. All four of the bound hostages had their eyes closed as their heads lolled to the side in the water's gentle current.
Enraged and petrified in equal measure by his father's ghostly looking face, Harry swam as fast as his body could slip through the water, pulling up short right in front of Sirius. Only the sight of tiny bubbles streaming from his father's mouth finally convinced Harry that Sirius wasn't dead, just merely asleep. He released a shaky breath of pent up tension and briefly took Sirius' face in his webbed hands and pressed their foreheads together as Harry closed his eyes in relief and allowed himself to believe everything might be okay after all.
But time was still ticking away and Harry knew that he now had to concentrate on getting them both out of the water and back to shore before anything else happened to them. Pulling his knife from the sheath on his ankle, he began to saw at the ropes binding Sirius to the statue. It took a few precious seconds of hacking away at the slimy weeds before he got his father free, but once he did Harry took a quick look around and realized that he was the only one of the champions who had made it there so far.
Checking his watch again, he gasped when he saw how late it was.
How could he be the only one to have made it here? The hour was almost gone!
Frowning, he made a split second decision and moved to start cutting at the robes binding Hermione. Although he was anxious to get his father to the surface, he wasn't about to leave one of his best friends behind to the mercy of the merpeople who looked entirely capable of doing real harm to her.
The minute he tried to set Hermione free however, several pairs of gray hands grabbed at him roughly and Harry, in his rapidly returned rage, shot another Relashio! hex at them as he snarled as much as he could underwater.
Whereas before they might have been laughing at him, now several of them were glaring murderously as patches of angry red stained their pale skin.
For a brief second he was convinced that he would have to fight them all off by himself until another mermaid, garishly clad in ropes and ropes of colorful stones and with an air of authority about her, warned the angry members of her tribe back away from the young wizard. Turning to Harry, she frowned menacingly, but did not move to physically antagonize the boy.
"Your task is to retrieve your own hostage. You will leave the others."
Harry scowled, especially since he knew that, unlike the merpeople, he couldn't speak underwater and make the merchieftainess understand how important Hermione was to him. Shaking his head furiously, he turned to go back to Hermione and was once again stopped by a large array of spear tips threatening him and the chieftainess holding a hand up in restraint against his chest while pointing behind Harry.
Risking a quick glance, Harry could just make out the sight of Cedric swimming up towards them, an enormous bubble across his face that stretched his features comically. Having done the Bubble-head charm on himself numerous times, Harry recognized its use and a wave of relief passed over him knowing that the other champions were finally coming.
Cedric had a knife of his own which he used to quickly cut Cho's bonds and he grabbed her and kicked off towards the surface, wordlessly reminding Harry of the time as he left. Another moment later, what seemed to be a horribly disfigured shark plowed its way into the village and Harry reflexively steeled himself for an attack until he realized that it was actually Viktor in what could only be described as a transfiguration gone horribly wrong.
Krum's shark teeth tried in vain to snap at Hermione's ropes and Harry watched for just a few seconds before he smacked Viktor on the arm and held out his knife. While he respected the other boy's skill in the air, Harry was worried that Hermione was going to be torn to shreds if Viktor continued to chomp away at the weeds in that awkward manner.
Gratefully taking the knife, Viktor had Hermione freed quickly. He gave Harry a nod of thanks and then tugged Hermione by the hand and shot off into the darkness.
Harry knew it was time to go. Any more hesitation on his part and something could happen to his father who was still in his magically induced sleep and therefore helpless.
But while Harry's first concern was Sirius' safety, he couldn't help but search out in the dark waters for any sign, however slight, that Fleur was on her way too. Still bound helplessly to the enormous stone merperson, the little blonde girl tugged at Harry's heart and he knew deep down that his father wouldn't want Harry to leave the poor thing behind just to save himself.
Mind made up, Harry moved forcefully towards her and was once again stopped by the others who no longer found his insistence amusing after he'd wounded them.
A row of sharp spears were thrust into his face, but by this point Harry was simply done with their games. Lives were at stake here, and he didn't have the patience in him to deal with a tribe of callous fish people. Brandishing his wand again, he jabbed it in their direction and held up his hand with three fingers extended. Giving them a cold and pointed look, he slowly lowered one finger in a clear countdown.
This seemed to do the trick as they quickly backed away and let him get on with the job of freeing the young girl from her bonds. The adrenaline coursing through his system that had gotten him this far was slowly starting to recede and his arms and legs were beginning to drag as he cut away. He just needed one more push to get both Sirius and the girl to the surface before his strength completely gave out.
As soon as she was freed, he grabbed her around the waist and clamped his hand around Sirius' robe and then kicked as hard as he could to the surface. Unable to use his hands to help propel them through the water, it was slow going, and it didn't help that their combined weight was far heavier than he was himself.
Briefly he considered casting a Bubble-head charm on his father to wake him so Sirius could swim on his own, but the fear of it not working, or of Sirius finding himself under black water and panicking, stayed Harry's hand as he continued to drag them all towards the surface.
In the end, it was too much to ask for Harry's luck to last, and before he could breach the dark depths, he suddenly found himself gasping for air as his mouth filled with water.
For just a second he was terrified to realize that his gillyweed had run out, until he stupidly remembered that he had an additional clump in his pocket because Sirius didn't believe in taking chances. He was just about to juggle his hostages into one hand so he could grab it to swallow when he thought again and finally decided that since his hands were useless for swimming at the moment anyway, he'd cast the Bubble-head charm instead.
A quick silent wave of his wand had his face engulfed in a bubble and he drew in a deep breath of air which immediately helped clear his slightly addled and oxygen deprived brain. Breathing normally now, he willed himself to keep kicking upwards, even as he felt his overworked muscles screaming in pain.
As the three of them rose higher and higher, the water around them was becoming lighter and more clear and soon they were finally breaching the surface, just as Harry felt the last remnants of his strength give out. Next to him, bobbing in the water, Harry could see the small girl he rescued burst into scared tears as she took in her surroundings before the frantic face of his worried father swam into his line of sight.
Sirius grabbed Harry's wand and cancelled the Bubble-head charm and Harry drew in a deep breath of icy air which only made him realize how cold he was all of a sudden now that he was above the water. He shivered violently as his father ran his hands over Harry's face looking for any sign of injury before gathering his child into his arms and hugging him fiercely as they bobbed on the surface.
They stayed in their embrace for just a brief second before the little girl's tearful cries reminded them both that Harry's task wasn't done yet.
"You've done beautifully," Sirius said with an affectionate smile as he gripped Harry tightly to keep him from sinking back under the water. "But let me help you take it from here."
The sweet sound of his father's voice gave Harry the extra energy to refocus himself enough to nod and pull the little girl closer to them. Between himself and Sirius, they began to slowly make their way towards the stands of cheering onlookers.
Sirius' heavy, wet robe was causing them to lag much more than necessary, so he slipped it off and let it sink into the water behind him. Significantly more agile in just a black T-shirt and pajama pants, he used his well trained muscles to push the kids forward, knowing by the grimace on his son's face that Harry was physically wrecked and struggling.
Harry was the champion, so Sirius couldn't make it too obvious as to how much he was helping his son get back to shore. He let Harry lead, dragging the little girl at his side, while Sirius gripped both of them underwater and used his own feet to kick and propel them forward.
All three of them were water-logged and looking decidedly bedraggled as they stumbled onto shore to the roar of the cheering crowd. Poppy Pomfrey rushed over and threw warm blankets around the two children and forced hot potion down their throats as Sirius leaned over with his hands on his hips and drew in deep gasps of air. Taking a few seconds to center himself, he didn't see Ludo Bagman rush over to gush at him until the man was right next to him.
"Wonderful!" Ludo crowed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "That was absolutely wonderful!"
If Ludo had been a smarter man, he would have seen the murderous look on Sirius' face and run as fast as he could in the other direction. Alas, Ludo had never been exceptionally bright.
Standing up to his full height, his thin wet clothes sticking to him like a second skin that showed off the enviable definition of his toned physique, Sirius flexed his rippling muscles, cocked his right arm back and then swung.
The punch caught Ludo right along his formerly chiseled jaw and the strength behind the blow forced him off his feet to land roughly on his back on the cold, muddy ground. Sirius paid no attention to the gasps in the audience as he dropped down to straddle the prone form and proceeded to repeatedly pummel the obnoxious piece of excrement who had taken Sirius from his child against his will.
If Bagman thought that Sirius' lack of wand was going to save him from the retaliation of an enraged father, he was now literally sorely mistaken. Sirius might be a wizard, but he could throw punches worthy of any Muggle street fighter just fine.
Harry threw off his blanket and rushed to his father's side just in time to hear a sickening crack as Sirius shattered Bagman's nose. Others were now rushing over including Remus, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick and the heads of the two other schools. Wisely, Snape kept his distance.
But when it looked like Karkaroff was moving to intervene, Remus spun around, brandishing his own wand, and forced the former Death Eater back.
"Leave it," the werewolf growled menacingly as Sirius continued to pulverize Bagman's face. "You don't know what he's done."
By this point, other adult spectators were drawing near, including the press who were wildly snapping photos.
A few of them were disturbed enough to draw their own wands, seemingly to protect the former Quidditch star from the fierce beating he was taking. Harry, his anger returning as he began to understand Bagman's role in everything that had happened that morning, stood firmly in defense of his father and dared any one of them to approach him.
Seeing his friend take a fighting stance, Ron shot to his feet to draw his own wand and then stood shoulder to shoulder with Harry, to the enormous displeasure of his brother Percy who was once again standing in for his absentee boss and trying futilely to pull his little brother away from the fracas.
McGonagall and Flitwick were both unsuccessfully trying to pull Sirius off Ludo without hurting either of them while Rita gleefully spouted off colorful commentary on the melee as the flashbulbs popped around them all.
Harry whipped around and snapped at his professors, angry that they were not helping Sirius.
"That arsehole had my father abducted from our residence!"
Minerva gasped and Filius looked murderous and contemplated joining in the fight on Sirius' side after all.
Then the shouting really started and the older spectators, some of them obvious fans of Ludo, grew louder in their protests. Harry, Remus and Ron didn't budge an inch and with the three of them being threatened, Hermione, Krum, Fleur and even Cedric, avoiding his irate father's eyes, formed a semi-circle backing them up against the growing crowd.
Finally, just before hexes really started to fly, Dumbledore raised his arms.
"SILENCE!"
Immediately, everyone quieted but maintained their stances. All except for Sirius who seemed to have done all the damage he could do to wreck the idiot's face and was now sitting on his chest and growling while he fought the urge to just kill Bagman outright.
Sirius?" Dumbledore said calmly, aware of all the eyes watching them, "might we have an explanation for your animosity towards Mr. Bagman?"
With a cold glare on his face, Sirius stood and moved with panther like grace towards the headmaster as he kept his guard up from any attacks around him. His wet shoulder length hair was tangled messily as it partially covered his face but it only served to make him look even more dangerous. His right hand was covered in blood as he held it to his side.
"An explanation, Albus?" he sneered, motioning for Harry to get behind him as he stood toe to toe with Dumbledore. "I would have thought it was fairly obvious. Last night I was taken against my will from my quarters inside your school. Without my consent, I was taken from my son!"
The angry voices from the crowd had now quieted some. Those that were interested in hearing more detail about Sirius' claims and those who were horrified by what they had already heard.
"I told that buffoon," Sirius fumed, motioning towards the unconscious and bloody Bagman, "that I wouldn't agree to act as Harry's hostage today, and yet somehow, he arranged for a house elf to abduct me anyway."
At the words 'house elf' Harry sucked in a deep breath as his eyes went wide and he couldn't help but wonder just exactly how Dobby knew that Sirius had been taken hostage. With his history of doing some seriously shady things all in the name of helping Harry, the boy decided right there and then that the elf would pay dearly if he was the one that pulled Harry's father away from him in the dead of the night.
Dumbledore wasn't pleased to hear this bit of information either, but before he could speak, Sirius was turning and beckoning Rita Skeeter over.
"Miss Skeeter," he spat, with just enough sarcastic charm to entice her to him, "how would you like a real cracking story about what's going on behind the scenes with this blasted tournament? Or just how safe the children who attend this school really are? Or how much the headmaster knows about what goes on here?"
Rita's greedy little eyes bugged out of her head, like Christmas had just come early, before Dumbledore waved his hand and erected a privacy bubble around himself and Sirius.
"You cannot believe that I would willingly participate in anything so underhanded as what happened to you last night, do you, my boy?"
Gone were Dumbledore's trademarked twinkling eyes, replaced with a flash of anger into the sad watery blue of an old man. Sirius wasn't fooled. He'd been placated and manipulated enough to last him a lifetime. It didn't matter what happened to him, but the frantic and devastated look on his son's face infuriated him and he vowed that Harry would not be hurt like this again.
"I believe you are either willfully ignorant about what goes on inside your school on a regular basis or you choose to allow it all to happen," Sirius hissed. "I believe Hermione, Cho and who I can only assume is Mademoiselle Delacour's little sister, are all underage children who were used in this task without the consent of their parents. And at least in the case of little Mademoiselle Delacour, without her consent at all."
Albus flinched, but he didn't deny it either, which only made Sirius even more angry.
"I believe," he continued, his rage making his now shivering limbs shake even more, "that it's long past time that I take necessary measures to protect my son from things other than Voldemort and Death Eaters."
At this, Sirius narrowed his stormy silver eyes menacingly and curled his lip.
"And I believe, Headmaster" he growled vehemently, "that if you don't like it, you can go straight to Hell!"
With that, Sirius waved his hand to dispel Albus' silencing and wrapped an arm around his son's trembling shoulders as he determinedly led Harry away from the shore and back towards the castle.
Behind them, chaos erupted again as the crowd clamored to know what had happened, even as Rita screeched after Sirius' retreating back, demanding the story he promised her. But even she was out-shouted by Amos Diggory shrilly insisting that his son be awarded first place for the task.
Sirius just pushed his own shivering son along the path even faster, Harry now truly feeling the cold as confusion and anger whirled in his head.
The few students around them gave them a wide berth after seeing the fury on their professor's face, so there was no one besides Sirius who saw Harry, finally crashing from his adrenaline rush, double over and vomit just outside the castle door.
****************HP**************
It was late by the time Remus climbed through the door of the residence in the Astronomy tower. The sitting room was dark except for the fire going in the hearth and there was just enough light for him to see Sirius put a silencing finger to his lips before he could call out a greeting.
The reason for the demand for silence was easy enough to discern. A sleeping Harry was stretched out on the sofa, his head burrowed into a pillow on Sirius' lap where Sirius' fingers were very gently stroking the boy's hair. Even in slumber, Harry's forehead was scrunched up in agitation and, given the events of the day, Remus wasn't necessarily surprised by the boy's unrest.
He quickly shed his outer cloak and hung it up on the coat rack before walking softly over to the sitting area and dropping down into one of the squashy armchairs. He nodded at Sirius' wordless offer of a tumbler of Firewhiskey, one already in the other man's own free hand, and caught it out of the air when it zoomed towards him.
On another day, he might have taken a moment to be further impressed by Sirius' growing talent of wordless and wandless magic but today he was just too tired.
"He's had two calming draughts already," Sirius whispered, answering Remus' unasked question. "And now he's fighting the sleeping draught. I've never seen anything like it."
From Harry's frowning face, Remus could see that it was true.
The sleeping draught should have knocked him right out in a peaceful rest, but clearly the boy wasn't as far under as he should be. Remus had heard that some powerful wizards and witches were able to fight off the various effects of draughts such as the sleeping draught, but it was a rare ability that Harry was simply too young to have without it being a worry.
As if to prove the point further, Harry's face pinched into a frown and he began to stir unhappily. Immediately Sirius shushed him and increased the pressure of his fingers lightly scratching at Harry's scalp. With a pang, Remus suddenly remembered how the massaging motion had sometimes been the only way Lily and James, and Sirius on occasion, could get a fussy baby Harry back to sleep.
The memory made him miss his lost friends desperately.
It took a couple of minutes of Sirius' gentle ministrations and quiet, soothing murmurs before Harry settled again while Remus wrestled with his personal demons. Sirius shifted slightly in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure in his lower back from sitting in one place for so long. Not that he had any intention of moving away as long as his son was sleeping.
Especially after the one disastrous attempt to levitate Harry into his bed had already failed spectacularly when the boy woke up startled and began to hit and kick at Sirius before recognizing his father's face.
"He refused to close his eyes at first," Sirius began to explain quietly, "but the poor little sprog is so exhausted and upset I finally had to make him take the draught."
Remus smiled sadly at the boy who had been so angry and, quite truthfully, scary earlier. As Sirius carded his fingers through Harry's wild, black spikes, he also looked wiped out and now well beyond his thirty-six years.
"And what about you, Padfoot?"
"I doubt I'll ever get a peaceful moment's rest in this place ever again," Sirius answered bluntly. "But enough of that. What happened after we left?"
And so Remus began to softly relate the fallout of the Second Task between sips of the Firewhiskey. How Cedric had been given first place, but then Karkaroff's rage when Harry was awarded second place for not only reaching the village first but insisting on rescuing little Gabrielle as well. Fleur had asked Remus to pass on her extreme gratitude to both Harry and Sirius.
As Sirius suspected, neither she, nor Gabrielle, nor their parents knew the little girl was being kidnapped for the task. More than one adult present had been enraged to hear this troubling news.
Sirius scoffed derisively at the pandering gesture of the second place award. While he was incredibly proud of the moral fiber shown by his son, it would only cause Harry's detractors to be even more angry with the boy than they already were.
"Albus wanted to know what you meant by measures."
With a cold sneer on his face, Sirius snorted and took a large swallow of his own whiskey, relishing the burn down his throat and the warming steam drifting out of his ears. He still felt frozen after his emergence from the lake and the ensuing battle. If not for Harry resting on his lap, he'd be up to his neck in a scalding tub right now.
"I bet he does."
Realizing that Sirius wasn't about to say any more at the moment, Remus sighed. He was deeply disappointed in what happened to his oldest friend today. More than that, he was especially disappointed in a man he'd long respected and trusted. Albus' far too passive reaction to Sirius' justifiable anger disturbed Remus deeply.
Instead of demanding an explanation from Bagman after he'd been brought back to consciousness and healed of his injuries, Albus had merely asked for discretion in the matter before walking off towards his office and leaving Remus with far too many unanswered questions.
"Whatever you're thinking, Sirius," Remus began, a pang of sadness hitting him at the immediate look of defensiveness on his friend's face, "I'm on your side. So count me in."