He swam for what felt like hours, luxuriating in the weightlessness and weirdness of the water. The deeper he went, the stranger the landscape became.
Everywhere were long, pale streamers of twisting seaweed and wildly varied and strange fish. They all evaded this strange new creature intruding into their realm, but at one point he saw one enormous thing that looked half-shark, half-otter, open an impossibly large mouth and swallow a much larger fish whole.
A few times, on the edge of his vision, he thought he made out a shape, but his eyes were playing tricks on him.
Deeper still and he had to light his wand, making it into a focussed beam to cut through the increasing dark. There was no sign of any of the other champions or Ron as he wound his way around a vast field of boulders jutting up from the silty bottom of the lake.
Every time one of his hands or feet skimmed the floor, it kicked up huge plumes of silt which irritated his eyes and obscured his vision, so he rose higher, hoping he was making some kind of logical progression through the lake in his search.
After around half an hour, he rose back to the surface to take a couple of potions, but had to keep bobbing his gills back under the water. His senses were weirdly distorted in the air, sounds muffled and his vision horrendously blurred. Feeling his arms grow stronger with the strengthening solution, he dove back under the waves and marvelled at the increase in his sight as the night-eye potion took effect.
Invigorated, he went deeper again and wound his way into a thick stand of seaweed that was taller than the tallest trees in the Forbidden Forest.
That deep, he gave thanks to Pansy's idea of the night-eye. It was dark. Darker than he could remember experiencing ever before. Even with the potion letting him view the magical fields around him, the world was like shadows in the night as he did his best to disturb the ground as little as possible.
The potions were working together to enhance all his senses and he was aware of every movement, every bump of weed against weed as he slid through the water.
Silence.
Stillness.
Then he saw something – the first non-natural thing he had seen in what felt like days. It was small, just an oval pebble the size of his palm, with a strange, curling rune carved into its flat face.
The sight of the rune made him feel slightly queasy, like the geometry of it somehow didn't fit into his mind. Curious, he reached out and picked it up, but the second his fingers touched the stone, he was gone.
"Get up boy!" Uncle Vernon roared, banging on his bedroom door.
Harry jolted awake, putting on his glasses. As the world came into focus, he saw that it was only 6 in the morning, quite early.
"I'm up." He said, rubbing his face. A few seconds later, he heard Uncle Vernon stomping down the stairs.
He rose, went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. Closing the mirrored cabinet, he noticed that he could see – for the first time – his nose in the glass. Getting taller. He thought excitedly.
A great way to start his eleventh birthday.
Back in his room, he dressed for breakfast and went downstairs.
The door into the kitchen wouldn't open. He heaved his weight against it, but it wouldn't give.
"Hey, let me in!" he shouted, banging on the door.
Suddenly it gave way and he stumbled several steps into the brightly-lit, surgically clean kitchen, only to be surrounded by noise and cheers.
"Happy Birthday!" his family shouted, pulling party poppers and cheering.
Grinning, Aunt Petunia rushed forward, squeezing him tight and planting a huge red kiss on his cheek. "Happy birthday, sweetheart." She said, before pulling away and directing him to the dining table.
As he sat on one of the beautifully carved chairs – imported at tremendous cost the previous winter by Uncle Vernon for the couple's fifteenth wedding anniversary – he caught his reflection in the glass surface of the table and for a moment, he saw a much older boy, a teenager no less, staring back at him.
Then he blinked and the boy was gone, just replaced with Harry: all messy black hair and bright green eyes and the scar on his forehead.
"Happy Birthday, Boy." Uncle Vernon said, ruffling Harry's hair and lowering his broad bulk into the chair next to him.
Dudley punched him on the arm, "Finally caught up with me again!" he said, laughing and dropping a pile of birthday cards on the table in front of Harry.
"Cheers Big-D." Harry said, rubbing his smarting arm – he'd get Dudley back later.
Dudley was – in many ways – the opposite of Harry: powerful where Harry was lithe, fastidious where Harry was messy and an excellent student where Harry either understood something instantly or would never get it. But nothing ever got between them. They were cousins, but they were brothers.
"So!" Aunt Petunia said, swooping over toward the table with cups of tea for Harry and Dudley, coffee for herself and a large protein shake for Uncle Vernon who had recently started exercising again. "What would you like to do today?"
"You're so lucky that your birthday is in the holidays." Dudley grumbled, adding sugar to his tea and scowling when Petunia took the spoon off him.
Harry took a moment to think. "Well we went to the zoo for Dudley's. You know what I really want to do: go back to Thorpe Park."
Dudley groaned, hating rollercoasters. They'd last been to the amusement park for Harry's friend Ron's ninth birthday and, after the first ride, Dudley had been too sick to do anything other than sip water all day.
"Oh, I don't know about that…" Uncle Vernon said, his impressive black moustaches quivering, It was an old routine, "You know, it's quite far away and… you'll want all those annoying friends of yours to go too, like that girl… Hermi-thing and Donald and…"
"God, dad. You're so uncool." Groused Dudley at the well-rehearsed charade.
"Actually, did I just hear the postman?" Uncle Vernon asked, looking over Harry's shoulder toward the front door at the end of the hall. "Go check on it for me, Harry?"
Not knowing what to expect, as the doorbell had very definitely not rang, Harry stood and went down the hall.
As he opened the door it was pushed over and into him, knocking him sprawling on the floor. Then they were on him: one, two, three and four then more until he could barely breathe.
"All right, you savages, get off him. It's bad luck to kill the birthday boy on his special day!" Shouted Mr. Weasley, tall, lanky and ginger as he entered the hall, lifting his youngest son – Ron – off the pile of kids.
"Morning Arthur." Vernon said, striding into the hall and shaking hands with the man who was, in so many ways, his opposite.
"Morning Sunshine," Mr. Weasley said, lifting the small but tubby Neville Longbottom off Harry, "about ready for the off?"
"Hardly, only just managed to get the boy up and about." Vernon said, flicking Harry's ear affectionately.
"Don't worry, I've got breakfast enough for everyone!" Came Petunia's voice from the kitchen.
The kids, finally getting themselves together, stood, laughing and pushing each other.
The whole crowd was there: Ron; Hermione – all buckteeth and frizzy hair; Neville, tiny and chubby; Dean and Seamus – half-brothers completely inseparable; and even Draco, the son of the strange rich artist from the big house on the edge of town.
"Surprise!" They all shouted at Harry's look of bewilderment.
Harry turned around to stare at Uncle Vernon. "What?"
"Oh come on, boy." Vernon roared with laughter, "you've been talking about that blasted fun fair for months. The cars are packed and all you need to do is get fed so we can be on our way!"
Beaming, Harry hugged his uncle just as a strange envelope with green writing slipped through the letterbox in the already open door. But no one there saw it.
There, in the dark, Harry floated, a beaming smile on his face.
They were glad for how hot the day had turned out as they clambered, soaked to their skins and shivering from the Loggers Leap flume ride.
"Let's go again!" Shouted Ron, rubbing at his hair to get it out of his freckly face.
"No," Harry laughed, "I'm g-going to die i-if I don't get warm!"
"Let's go and get drinks." Said Uncle Vernon, leading them to the Hospitality Zone which they had rented specifically for Harry's Birthday.
Harry and Draco made it to the doors first and pulled them open.
As the glass pane swung, Harry caught his reflection – but just like at the breakfast table – it wasn't him but an older boy with longer hair. The glasses were the same, and the bright green eyes and, yes, even the scar.
"Time to get back, Harry. It's not real." The older-him said.
But the door was open and the cool air of the hospitality centre enveloped them. Inside was all streamers, colourful tables and more food and drink than they could ever eat. All his presents from his friends were piled in one corner.
That's when a tall man with long, wavy black hair entered the room. He was wearing the same uniform as the other people working there, but his sleeves were rolled back, revealing tattoos all up his arms.
A young woman followed him in. She was very pretty, with bobbed black hair and bright, piercing blue eyes. Where everyone else's uniform was red and yellow, hers was green and silver.
"Pansy." Harry said, not knowing where it came from.
Hermoine put a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, they've got Lilt! I love Lilt!" She took his hand and pulled him away from looking at the strange pair and toward the snack table.
They did have Lilt, but Harry only had eyes for Cherry-Coke. He grabbed a can and watched Draco ask one of the assistants if they had orange juice, pulling a disgusted face when told no.
"Are you happy with it all, Harry?" a man asked.
Harry turned and saw that it was the man with long black hair. He looked strangely familiar to Harry, with his piercing grey eyes and sardonic expression.
How did Harry know what 'sardonic' meant?
"I… well I like Cherry-Coke." Harry said, confused.
"Well it's not bad, for a dream." Sirius said with a raised eyebrow.
"What?"
Then there was an arm on Harry's arm, whirling him around. "Here you go, big fella!" Uncle Vernon roared.
The pretty girl with the black hair and blue eyes was walking toward him carrying an enormous birthday cake with the help of an old man: an old man wearing a tall, pointed hat like a wizard and long flowing olive green robes.
All around, his friends and family were singing 'Happy Birthday', but the look on the girl's face was scared.
"Happy birthday, dear Harry," the whole crowd sang, but while everyone else continued with, "happy birthday to you!" The man and girl said, "but time is running out!"
Panicked, Harry looked around the room.
"Aren't you going to blow out the candles, Harry?" Dean and Seamus asked together.
Then there was a sopping wet hand on his arm. Ron's face was blue and swollen, water gushing from his slack mouth. "It's not your birthday, dickhead: come and save me!"
"What?" Harry asked again.
Then Lupin was sat in a chair beside Harry, pointing over his shoulder. "Can you remember Harry, the defining features of a grindylow?"
Harry turned in the direction Lupin was pointing and opened his eyes.
Three grindylow were darting toward him, clawed hands extended, and their improbably large open mouths filled with tiny razor-sharp teeth bared .
His mind was foggy and his eyes felt strange. The warmth of Aunt Petunia's kiss remained on his cheek, but his constant drilling with duelling technique won and made him twist in the water.
Using his magically augmented muscles, he kicked up hard and two of the little blue water demons flashed underneath him. The third was faster, following him and raking its claws against his left leg, leaving several lines of hot pain.
Instinctively, he lowered his wand to the monster's face and roared "Incendio!"
Instead of fire, a stream of roiling bubbles gushed from his wand, coursing into the eyes and mouth of the grindylow, making it screech as its skin erupted in enormous, ugly blisters.
It tried to squirm away, clawing at him with its hind feet, but he kept the stream focussed on it and it kicked away into the darkness.
The other two were on him. One sank its claws into his back, tiny points of fire making him jerk involuntarily in the water as the other managed to bite down on his neck.
Screaming, tasting his own blood in the water warmed by his spell, he reached out with his free hand and grabbed the grindylow on his neck by the face.
Tearing it free with another roar of pain, he used his enhanced strength to squeeze down, gradually torquing his fingers into the creature's skull as he writhed and tried to get at the one on his back.
Try as he might, he couldn't get the other creature with any of the spells he had ready.
What are the common features of grindylow, Harry? Lupin said in his head.
Memories of Lupin's excellent lessons seemed decades away as he struggled. The grindylow in his hand was starting to panic as he squeezed it and started clawing at his wrist.
"No, fuck you!" he roared, feeling his magic move instinctively through him, amplifying the effects of the strengthening solution in his blood.
It only took a second, but the hands of the grindylow spasmed once and its eyes bulged as Harry put all his strength and rage into his arm. Then it convulsed as Harry's fist closed, crushing its skull to pulp and bits of bone that punctured his fingers.
Yes indeed, the biggest weakness grindylow's have is their fragile fingers.
A black fury had filled Harry and he was in enough pain to want to hurt the thing that was hurting him. He reached over his shoulder with his wand and shouted, "Reducto!"
A wave of pain washed down his back and the back of his legs, but the needling from the grindylow vanished. He twisted around in the water and saw the black, blasted and armless grindylow sinking into the blackness screaming.
As his anger subsided, pain flooded in. Bloody and torn, he contracted into himself for a moment, curling into a foetal position and let the tears come.
Then he gritted his teeth and broke for the surface for the second time.
The air was hot and too thin and awful. He remained on the surface long enough to swallow his pepper-up potion, then one of Hermione's coagulation draughts to stop his bleeding before diving back beneath the waves, pocketing the stone just in case.