Later, he would have almost no memory of his first minutes back on the surface. Pansy told him about how the merfolk had helped bring Ron and the girl – who was indeed Fleur's sister Gabrielle – back to shore.

Harry tried to swim, some deep instinct forcing him to find the energy to tread water before warm hands propelled him through the water.

Then he was afloat on a vast black island. Hagrid had leapt from the pier, holding onto the side with one hand and taking Harry in his enormous arm, sobbing hysterically.

"Thanks… Hagrid." He managed to say, coughing into the enormous black beard.

Hagrid deposited him on the pier where Harry tried to find his feet, but fell to his knees, his elbows on the floor, sucking in deep, harsh breaths. His throat was a raw, flayed thing as air filled him.

There was a commotion nearby on the pier, a thousand miles away. Then there were arms around him and some dizzying, beautiful and alien fragrance filling his head and gold in his eyes.

"You saved 'er!" the girl was sobbing, touching his face.

Then there were hard but gentle hands on him, pulling the girl away from him. The world spun and there was something cold against his lips and hard on his cheeks before a hot, spicy liquid tipped into his mouth. Pepper-up, he thought and managed to swallow.

The world – which had apparently been edged in darkness – brightened as he felt heat gush through his body.

There was someone calling his name. He looked up into the lined, composed face of McGonagall as she threw away the empty cup of potion.

"Are you alright, Potter?" She asked, gently shaking his shoulder.

"Minerva, I think you should-" started Pomphrey, quickly silenced by an icy glare from the Lioness.

"Look at me, Potter." McGonagall commanded, and the force in her voice struck a chord in him.

He raised his eyes to meet hers and nodded.

"There's a good boy, you wonderful boy." She said, nodding as a sigh of relief left her.

"Let me attend to him, Minerva!" Pomphrey scolded and McGonagall moved back, admitting the mediwitch to his side.

As Pomphrey muttered incantations, he felt the most immediate pain vanish as the world started to retreat again, the dark edges returning to his vision.

Then he was surrounded by wet material. "Is he okay? Tell me he's okay, Professor."

Harry looked up to see Hagrid's enormous, hairy face looming over him, his sopping wet hair and beard blocking the sun. "M'ok, Hagrid," he coughed, but the effort caused the darkness to spread.

The next thing he knew, a cool silver light was filling his mind and he heard a voice – high and beautiful and full of rage. He turned his head and saw Pansy struggling against someone that was trying to keep her away. There was a huge crowd of people being held back at the edge of the pier, but he could only make her out clearly. She was the light.

The wand was suddenly in her hand, the incantation shouted and Percy Weasley was blasted back a dozen feet and into the lake.

"Miss Parkinson!" McGonagall shouted as Pansy ran at him, pulling the cloak from her shoulders.

She knelt next to him, her bright eyes shining with silver tears. "You're alive!" she cried.

"Be careful, he has several broken ribs." He heard Pomphrey say as the darkness fought Pansy's silver light.

"I don't care, you stay away from him!" Pansy was screaming, hysteria in her voice. There were what sounded like dozens of discordant voices all around him, blurring almost everything into incoherence.

It was still dark, but he was warm and the worst of the pain was gone. All he needed was for the pain in his chest to go away and he could sleep – so long as she could stay with him. Forever.

"Miss Parkinson." Snape said, somewhere nearby.

That was apparently enough to stop Pansy's panic.

He realised his eyes were closed but couldn't quite manage to open them.

"What's happening?" He asked, surrendering to the weight of his eyelids.

"Ah, you're awake Potter." Snape said, and then there were hard fingers on his neck, scalp and his jaw. A finger lifted one of his eyelids and he saw Ron holding Pansy a few feet away. They were still on the pier.

He groaned, trying to shrug away from Snape, but he was held fast.

"Are you absolutely certain, Miss Granger? If you're mistaken about the combination of potions he already has in his system, more magic could do serious damage."

Then he saw Hermione, wrapped in a thin blanket threaded with strange red cords that drew his eye weirdly. She looked dreadful, her long hair scraped back into a hasty ponytail, highlighting the dark circles around her eyes.

"Yes, Professor. I made sure that he would be safe with them." She said.

"Are you okay to deal with it, Severus?" Pomphrey asked somewhere behind him.

"I am Poppy, I think Mr. Diggory might need your assistance. Dumbledore was with him."

Then Snape was doing some kind of long incantation that Harry's sluggish brain couldn't interpret.

The world sharpened again, momentarily becoming unbearably filled with hot agony running through his chest before settling.

Harry took a long, slow breath.

"Potter?" Snape asked.

Harry rolled his neck, feeling an uncomfortable pulling where the grindylow had bitten him and opened his eyes. Snape was standing over him, sweat beading on his pasty skin. "Potter?" he asked.

Harry nodded, flexing his fingers and finding – to his astonishment – that he still held onto his wand. He felt hollow, drained and fragile. "I'm okay, Professor." He said, not sure if he meant it.

"Can you stand, Potter?" McGonagall said, reappearing by his side.

Then Pansy was there. She touched his face and it was like sunlight being poured into his veins.

"I think so." He said to McGonagall.

Snape offered a hand. Harry took it and was gently pulled to his feet, helped by Pansy. He was wearing the cloak she had made him. He was dry and warm.

He took a few seconds to find his feet, unsteady on the boards of the pier. "I'm okay." He said and Snape released his hand.

"Come near him again and I'll blast your fucking face off." Pansy said, her voice icy.

Confused, Harry looked around to see Fleur – her arms around the little girl that looked so much like her – shrink back. Fleur looked terrible – her beauty diminished and distorted by what looked like a large bite on her left cheek. There was a bloody patch on her scalp where a hank of hair appeared to have been torn out.

"That is quite enough, Miss Parkinson." Snape barked, turning on Pansy. "I think you've done quite enough this morning. One more word and I'll have you removed to the castle."

Pansy's face paled and Harry squeezed her hand. She turned to him and he reached out, touching her face and drawing her to him. He rested his forehead against hers.

"You saved me. I'm safe." He said and she burst into tears.

The next several minutes were a confused haze of movement and noise. The crowd was a huge roaring mass with every emotion on display.

When Snape stepped away from Harry, a great cheer went up. He walked down the pier slowly, hand-in-hand with Pansy. Ron was on the other side, his arm around Harry's waist, supporting him.

"Well that was dramatic." Ron said lamely in a momentary lull in the noise.

"Well, that's an understatement." Harry laughed, wincing at a pain that shot through his side. He looked at Pansy, "I'll tell you all about it later."

"You don't need to – we saw it all." She said, pointing over at a stack of large silver mirrors on the shore. "They're scrying mirrors, one for each of you – we watched all of it. I was so scared."

Harry drew her closer to him as Ron moved away, briefly allowing Hermione to come closer. She took his hand and kissed it. "Well done." She whispered.

Harry rested his head against hers and smiled. "Thanks for the bandoleer. I don't think I'd have made it without all that."

She looked up at him sheepishly and nodded before walking on ahead of them toward the end of the pier where Percy Weasley was waving his wand over his own body, drying himself off.

"Well done, Harry. Well bloody done." Percy said, any trace of his normal, pompous self gone for the moment. He purposely didn't look at Pansy.

"Cheers." Harry said, not stopping.

Pansy didn't say anything as they passed him.

The crowd was pushed back to let them through to a large podium on the bank next to where the judges had sat and were reassembling.

Dumbledore had red staining his sleeves as he climbed to the judges' dais, but he flicked his wrist and the discolouration vanished in whisps of pink steam.

Bagman looked like he had never seen anything so exciting in his life. He had removed his waistcoat and stood repeatedly running his hands through his thick, sweaty blonde hair and mouthing something over and over.

The champions' platform was a few feet lower than the one where the now-assembled judges sat, designed to elevate them slightly above the crowd to give everyone a good view.

Every step was an effort for Harry as he trudged up the three steps to the champions' platform, he was so tired he could have lay on the painted plank floor and slept.

Fleur – still clutching her sister – was already waiting, as was Krum, red with blood from head-to-toe from a mass of partially healed wounds from the spears of the merfolk. He was expressionless, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance. His face was totally impassive, he only moved to pull his hand away when Hermione tried to take it.

Cedric was nowhere to be seen, but Cho – dried out but still shivering and wearing his yellow and black robe – stood on the platform in his stead. She looked at Harry and managed a teary, juddering nod of acknowledgement.

Ron squeezed Harry's good shoulder. "Well done mate, looks like Diggory's been carted off to the hospital wing."

"I'm not surprised," Pansy said, looking from the other champions to the judges who sat impassive as gargoyles.

Bagman cleared his throat visibly before casting the voice amplifying spell.

"Ladies and gentlemen," his voice boomed out across the lake, silencing the crowd, "after an event that we can only call 'astonishing' we, the judges have reached our decisions, with points awarded out of a maximum of fifty."

He paused for several seconds, teasingly letting the tension rise in the crowd until Maxime reached across Percy Weasley to poke him in the side, causing him to jump.

"Fleur Delacour of Beauxbaton Academy, through impressive use of a modified bubble-head charm, made excellent time through the early portions of the challenge, but failed to break free from the wishful-thinking trap laid by the merfolk and was unfortunately incapacitated by grindylow. As such she failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

There was polite applause from the stands with cheering that sounded conciliatory as opposed to congratulatory.

"I deserved zero," Fleur spat, her hair fanning around her as she hung her head.

"Cedric Diggory, of Hogwarts School also used the bubble-head charm in conjunction with a number of prescient potions to great effect. He broke through the wishful-thinking trap the second fastest of the champions, but lost his way and having to fight through the patrolling group of cecaelia. Despite his significant injuries from that encounter, he forged on and – in demonstrating a faculty with the language of the merfolk - was the first to recover his hostage with a single minute remaining on the clock. We award Mr. Diggory forty-seven points."

The crowd erupted as Harry's heart sank. If Cedric – with all his skill and success only warranted forty-seven points – only one minute inside the time limit, he had definitely been late.

Bagman waited almost a minute for the crowd to quiet, eventually raising his hands and waving them down.

"Viktor Krum of Durmstrang institute used a kind of human transfiguration the likes of which the judges unanimously agree was spectacular both in proficiency and effect. He broke through the wishful-thinking trap third, but was distracted by the giant squid which disoriented him with a blast of ink. After that, he encountered the merfolk and regrettably lost control, causing significant harm to several of the wardens of the hostages as well as another of the champions…"

A few mingled boos and cheers went up from the audience as Bagman cleared his throat again.

"… Mr. Krum returned with his hostage three minutes after the hour. We award him forty points."

The cheers of the Durmstrang students were almost totally drowned out by boos from a significant portion of the crowd.

Dumbledore rose from his chair and bellowed for silence.

Harry caught a glance over at Krum who seemed to have crumpled in on himself, being held tightly by Hermione as he sobbed into her shoulder.

"And finally, Harry Potter of Hogwarts School. Mr Potter demonstrated impressive use of a potion of water-walking as well as an impressive suite of other potions to staggering effect. He was the fastest to shake-off the effects of the wishful-thinking trap and dealt quickly with a grindylow attack, though he was injured in the process. He took the longest to retrieve his hostage, returning significantly outside the hour." Bagman paused for sounds of more mingled cheers and boos, "but the judges – most of the judges – agree that, had he not stayed back to aid merfolk who were under attack at the time and to assist another champion, he could have finished first. We have decided this sense of justice and fair-play fully justifies our awarding Mr. Potter forty-five points!"

The crowd went wild – Harry couldn't tell whether it had been louder for Cedric, but he didn't care. He was tied for first place with Cedric.

Pansy and Ron were hugging him, but through a gap between their bodies, he saw Fleur walking away with her sister and two of the other Durmstrang students helping Krum to leave the platform.

He couldn't move – the exhaustion was absolute.

"Well done mate!" Ron was shouting over and over again while Pansy blanketed his face with kisses.

Then he was being hoisted into the air, cheering voices all around him. Others raised Pansy up next to him and he heard Fred or George nearby. "It's a good job you're more lucky than smart, Potter. Justice and fair-play my arse!"

They were paraded around for a few seconds before pain started to spread through his abdomen again. He tried to reach out, to get them to put him down, but no one was listening as they shouted "Potter, Potter, Potter," over and over.

Then his gorge rose. He tried to prevent it, but all he could do against the pain was lean over and vomit – right into Seamus and Lavender's faces.

Then he blacked out.