"There's something I have to tell you," Harry blurted out suddenly.
They were in the middle of a self-study session, which was being supervised by Snape, but for once, the professor didn't pay them any attention. Small mercies.
Hermione wasn't paying attention to Harry either, so engrossed in the book she was reading. Ron was sneakily playing some sort of drawing game with Seamus, passing around paper slips.
With just over a week left before the second task, Harry still hadn't figured out how to stay underwater for a whole hour, or how to swim in general. The urgency of the situation would hit him at random moments, squeezing the air from his lungs like a giant hand. He'd imagine what it would feel like to have them fill with lake water instead, a horrifying thought that finally pushed him to confess his secret to his friends right there and then in that quiet, tense classroom.
"Hermione," he hissed again, hoping to grab her attention. The classroom was quiet, only a gentle scratch of quills on parchment and the occasional swish of robes resonated in the space. The warm, flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across the ancient stone walls, giving the room a touch of cosiness.
"Harry, if you're not about to tell me the solution to my Arithmancy homework, I don't want to hear it," Hermione whispered back sternly, her gaze never leaving the book in front of her. Numbers and cryptic notes sprawled across the parchment, and Harry silently thanked himself for choosing Divination over this torment.
"It's about the tournament," he said instead.
Hermione lifted her head slightly but still didn't turn to him, her eyes darting across the page quickly.
"Have you finished reading the book I gave you yesterday? Was there anything useful?"
"Err, nothing to save me from drowning, no," Harry admitted, biting his tongue. He had indeed skimmed through yet another of Hermione's dense books from the library, but that was a concern for later.
"Hermione, I don't know how—"
She cut him off. "—you will complete the second task, I know. You've told me like a dozen times these past few days. We will come up with something, but I'm about to fall behind with my own studies, so I need to focus now." She told him in a hushed voice, eyebrows scrunched in concentration.
Harry felt a pang of guilt at that, a heavy weight settling on his chest. Both Ron and Hermione had spent every free minute buried in books, searching for spells or brainstorming about the second task as much as possible. They went to sleep late and woke up early, staying by Harry's side and supporting him when he fell into despair.
Now that it was starting to take a toll on Hermione's academic life, threatening to affect her grades, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of guilt nibbling at his skin. If only he hadn't been so lazy and negligent and had started working on the golden egg sooner. Maybe he'd even have had enough time to learn the basics of swimming.
"That's not what I wanted to say," Harry whispered again, his voice tinged with a mix of remorse and desperation.
Despite the guilt he felt about adding more to his friends' plate of worries, he was also pretty damn hopeless. Hogwarts library may have been extensive, and he had not searched the restricted section yet, but Harry highly doubted he'd find any book about learning how to swim. The only book he stumbled upon that had the word "swimming" in it so far was an old pamphlet talking about some species of semi-sentient plants capable of floating and moving freely in the water. It was highly dispiriting to know that even plants could do something Harry so terribly desired to learn.
He had even gone as far as to consult with Madam Pince, who gave him a pointed look when Harry mumbled something about swimming and Magical Creatures class, coming up with an excuse so lame it grated his own ears when he heard himself say it. He was gone before he could finish the sentence, deep down hoping he was in a fever dream. (He wasn't.)
His research on the matter died after that, but Harry needed to resuscitate it again now, now that the images of him waving his hands in panic and kicking hysterically around just to keep himself afloat ravaged his mind.
"Oh my… what is it then?" Hermione asked, tone beyond impatient. She wrote something on a parchment and mumbled to herself, sounding frustrated.
The words got caught in Harry's throat, shame and hesitation making him second-guess his choice before he forced them out.
"I can't swim."
His voice was clipped and hoarse, causing his tone to be a pitch louder than a whisper. Luckily, Ron next to him snickered at the same time, making the noises blend together, so no prying ears could hear what Harry said.
None except Hermione's, who was now staring at Harry with a horrified expression.
"You can't be serious," she whispered.
Harry squirmed under her gaze and then shrugged, lacking words to say. He watched her take a deep breath, then another, then another. She opened her mouth to say something just to close it again, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Harry…" she started and then cut herself off.
"How bad is it? Like… are you a beginner swimmer or…?"
Despite her whispering, Harry could hear the tiny hope in her question. He squashed it mercilessly in the next moment, shaking his head.
"I have never been in water deeper than a few inches, I haven't even taken a normal bath before using the prefects' bathroom." He confessed with a grave expression.
Ron next to him snickered again, muttering something incoherent to Seamus. Hermione continued to look at Harry, speechless again.
Harry realized he should have picked a better time and place to spill his secret. He watched quietly as Hermione's face went through the seven stages of grief in a span of seconds. After she settled on a familiar frowning expression, Harry decided to speak again.
"Look, it's not that bad. We just need to find a spell that would assist me with the swimming movements," he said with a smile that felt more like a grimace, not knowing if he was trying to cheer Hermione up or himself. Either way, he failed.
"No, it is that bad, Harry." Hermione hissed, returning to the stage of anger all of a sudden. "This is… why didn't you tell me sooner? We have to…we—what do we do? There's no such spell that would assist you with swimming, it'd have to be something like… like Imperius to make you move your limbs involuntarily, oh my god…" she breathed out with wide eyes and then pressed her palms against her cheeks.
It was Harry's turn to scrunch his eyebrows. "How do you know that? Maybe there is a spell, a charm, that could aid me," he insisted more fiercely, but his tone still a whisper.
"It is more probable we will find the spell to help you stay underwater for an hour than this," Hermione argued with a defeated gaze.
"This is really not boosting my morale," Harry murmured.
Hermione opened her mouth to say something presumably unkind, Harry judged by her outraged expression, when Snape announced the end of the self-study lesson.
Harry packed his things quickly, wanting to move to a more private space before continuing with the conversation. Hermione followed suit.
Only Ron was smiling, still amused by the silly game he played earlier. He picked up on the change of atmosphere though and asked about it in the next second.
Harry shrugged mutely, not answering his friend at all. Instead, he swung his heavy book bag over his shoulder, heading for the exit of the classroom. Then, he felt his spine tingle.
It was subtle, but his peripheral vision noticed a pair of eyes burning into his skin; a pair of eyes that did not belong to either Hermione's glare nor Ron's confused look. A pair of dark eyes that were always uncomfortable to face.
Harry turned his head slightly and was greeted by a sight he expected, yet it surprised him.
Snape was looking at him, just as Harry thought, but his expression was… strange. Blank but puzzled, almost conflicted. When their eyes met, the professor immediately turned his gaze away, busying himself with parchments on his desk.
Harry frowned, storing the image away, deciding to think about it later. Or not. He had more pressing matters to think about.
He barely left the classroom when Hermione cornered him in the tail with Ron, who was now wearing a similarly worried frown. Hermione must have briefed him about the problem already, saving Harry the trouble of admitting his weakness out loud again. One time was hard and humiliating enough.
OOoOOoOOooOO
They ushered Harry into the nearest empty room, Hermione locking the door with a simple spell. Harry swallowed dryly, dreading the impending conversation.
"How come I never knew you can't swim?" Ron asked rhetorically straight away, attempting to ease the rising tension.
"Not sure, maybe I forgot to mention it the last time we went swimming together," Harry responded sardonically, his vulnerability laid bare.
"That's irrelevant now," Hermione hushed them both. "Harry, solving the riddle of the second task is one thing, finding a way to stay underwater for an hour is another, but this... if anything, you're at a significant disadvantage, and in much more danger than the other contestants! Why didn't you tell us sooner? There's hardly anything we can do a week before the task!"
"What do you mean we can't do anything? I told you, I just need a spell—"
"And I said there isn't such a spell," Hermione interjected firmly. "There are potions that can temporarily enhance your physique, but even that is a far cry from what you'd need to save yourself from drowning!"
"Now you're exaggerating; nobody is going to drown," Ron chimed in, trying to placate Hermione with upturned palms.
"The situation isn't that dire," he continued with a calm tone. "So, Harry can't swim, yet. Not a big deal; he can learn. I'll take him to the lake, and we can—"
"Absolutely not," Harry cut Ron off this time. "Absolutely not," he repeated, meeting his best friend's puzzled gaze.
"Why not? Harry, I'll teach you—"
"Look, I appreciate it, I really do, but in case you haven't noticed, it's February. Winter. Freezing outside. I'm not going to the lake twice at this time of year, no one can make me," Harry insisted. "Besides, imagine what would happen if we did attempt a crash course in swimming there. I might as well owl the Daily Prophet directly and tell them about my inability to stay afloat in deep waters."
That effectively silenced Ron, who mumbled something along the lines of "I just wanted to help" but otherwise didn't press the issue.
"Harry is right," Hermione agreed, nodding her head slightly. "In fact, I'm starting to think he should not go to the lake… at all." She said hesitantly, averting her gaze to a side. "It's not safe." She mumbled.
"Are you implying what I think you are?" Ron squealed.
"I just think maybe he should sit this task out." She huffed in frustration, defending herself.
"Sit this one out?" Ron echoed, his voice a half octave higher. "Are you mad? He battled a dragon but he'll pass on a task that involves water? That will be recorded in the wizarding history forever! A champion who lost in the tournament because he couldn't swim."
"Better than being known as a boy who almost died because of his stubbornness! What if he drowns, Ronald?"
"I'm still here, you two," Harry spoke up again, not liking to be talked about as if he wasn't present. "And for your information," he turned to Hermione, "I'm already known for that. I am the boy who almost died; they just gave it a fancy nickname."
The Boy Who Lived.
His voice was hoarse and biting, suppressing his own anger that threatened to bubble to the surface. Harry needed support from his friends, not a senseless argument.
Ron paled slightly but quickly found his wit again, regaining composure. "They won't let you come to any real harm, mate." He said convincingly. "There will be safety precautions, just like with the dragon task. Moreover, this is way less dangerous than battling a fire-spitting lizard. Nobody said the tasks will be safe; they are meant to be challenging."
Hermione shook her head, her eyebrows furrowed in discontent, but she ultimately relented.
"I'll get every book available on the subject. We need to check out the restricted section too; I'll ask McGonagall for written permission. Harry, you will write to Sirius again, ask him for some advice. We now need to find two spells, or charms, or potions, or - whatever it takes - to make you survive this. The task is in a week and I'm afraid we're going to be cutting it close."
OoOoOOOOoooOO
Ron proposed using the pool in the prefects' bathroom for swimming practice, but Harry quickly dismissed the idea, making up an excuse about the password having changed already.
Truth be told, the last thing Harry needed was to be caught there with his best friend, naked and clinging to each other while Ron attempted to teach Harry basic swim moves. The rumours about them and the Yule Ball were finally dying down, and Harry would rather not fuel them again.
Besides, all he needed was to find the right spell, not learn how to actually swim... right?
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"That will be a detention, Ms Granger. I'll expect you today at seven pm sharp."
Harry was sure if he opened his mouth any more, his jaw would hit the floor. Ron standing next to him wore an identical expression, his eyes similarly widened.
Both of them watched as Snape confiscated the mountain of books Hermione had on her desk and took them to his office. Nobody said anything, not even the Slytherins, so speechless was everyone as they watched the scene unfold before them.
Hermione, to her credit, didn't even bat an eye. She acknowledged her punishment and sat down, packing up the rest of her now modest school supplies collection.
The potion class ended shortly after that, and everybody scrambled out to the hallway, most giving Hermione stunned or curious glances, which she stubbornly ignored.
"Don't say anything, either of you," she warned Ron and Harry as they made their way towards the Great Hall for lunch. "He was right; I should have been paying attention to my potion."
"But your potion was finished!" Ron exclaimed. "You can't possibly find reason in getting a detention for reading a book in your spare time!"
"Maybe if the book wasn't titled 'Transfigurating Tides: Turning Water into Whimsy,' it would not have caused such a reaction. Professor Snape had a point; I could have done plenty of other potion-related activities. I just... I'm getting more and more anxious. There are four days until the second task, and we have not come up with anything yet," Hermione stammered, her cheeks tinted with red.
Harry and Ron exchanged a look.
"There's still time. I was thinking I could maybe write to Mum and ask her for advice; she knows a lot of useless spells," Ron suggested and shrugged. He was the one least worried about the whole ordeal.
Hermione gave him a look that said "Why didn't you do that sooner?" when Harry promptly stopped him.
"No, the fewer people who know about this, the better. Ron, I'm sure your Mum means well, but she would complain to Percy if she knew about my situation, and that would only create additional problems..." He trailed off.
Harry shivered when he imagined how Percy would look at him when he gave his speech about Mr Crouch being sick and having more important matters to attend to than a teenager who couldn't swim.
"We need all the help we can get," Hermione patronized him. "Have you written to Sirius yet?"
Harry bit his lip and this time responded with silence.
He was tired of having to inform someone about something, of constantly exposing his weaknesses and sharing his problems. Ever since the Tournament started, ever since that damned Goblet spat out his name, he was constantly on a pedestal, vulnerable.
He liked to open up to people on his terms and when he wanted to, not when someone urged him to. But his life was at stake; Harry lost the liberty to keep things to himself.
The issue was; Sirius was good. He was great. Harry could confide in him; he could seek support and assurance from him... but it didn't mean that every letter Harry sent to him had to be about needing help.
Harry wanted to do better than that; he could do better than that. He wanted to be more than just a child in Sirius' eyes; he wanted to be more than just a burden that constantly evoked worry. Harry had already distressed the man enough with his Triwizard Tournament rendezvous. He didn't want to know what would happen if Sirius learned about his swimming predicament.
And therefore, Harry didn't write to him, despite Hermione's insistence. He wasn't being stubborn (maybe he was, a little bit); he just didn't wish to bring all of his problems into Sirius' life. The man had his share of horrors he survived; he's suffered enough already.
All Harry wanted was to be his godson. Just his godson. A family. Not a boy-who-lived-but-was-constantly-hunted-by-Death. Or a-boy-who-couldn't-swim-and-the-second-task-involved-deep-waters. No. No. He wanted to be Harry. Just Harry. Just a godson. Just for a little while.
Harry filtered out Hermione's lecture which kept going until they almost finished lunch. Ron finally managed to avert her attention elsewhere, changing the topic to something school-related. Harry gifted him a grateful look.
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Ironically, Harry received a letter from Sirius shortly after they finished their meal. It was the shortest reply he had ever got, and it made his insides ache.
Immediately owl me the date of your next Hogsmeade visit.
-Padfoot
PS: I need to know more about your sleepwalking habit.
Harry groaned and scribbled the date on a torn piece of parchment. Out of spite, he kept his own reply even shorter than the one Sirius had sent. The letter consisted of just four numbers and a PS that read: "The sleepwalking has stopped. No need for concern."
It was the truth. Ever since Harry had taken two doses of Dreamless Sleep several nights ago, his new habit had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
And although it made Harry bitter, he had to acknowledge that it was all thanks to Snape that at least one of his troubles was resolved. Not that he actually gave his gratitude to the man. As usual, Harry avoided him, even more so after the golden egg and Moody fiasco.
Harry finished penning his brief response to Sirius and sent it off with Hedwig, who hooted softly before taking flight. As he watched her disappear into the distance, Harry felt a mix of emotions. The ache in his chest lingered, a reminder of the complex relationship he had with his godfather.
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"We would walk you there, but knowing Snape, he'd give us detention on sight," Ron said with a grim expression as a form of goodbye. Hermione shook her head and left with the slightest smile on her lips.
Harry and Ron watched her disappear behind the portrait and then proceeded to flip through the new collection of books she had gathered from the library that afternoon. It was a slow and tedious process, and Harry's blood pressure spiked every time his eyes read the words "water" or "swim," but none of the sentences containing those words were actually useful.
An hour went by, and Hermione was coming through the portrait again, returning from Snape's lair with her previously confiscated books and a pensive look on her face. The trio exchanged a few pleasantries, but none of them felt too talkative. Hermione's answers about the detention were short and uninformative, and Ron summed it up by murmuring to Harry, "She's embarrassed."
The boys didn't pry into how she spent the time with Snape; it was enough when she mentioned "dicing" and "toads" in one sentence. They called it a night shortly after midnight, not being any wiser than they were several hours before.
Harry spent eternity tossing around in bed, the rising anxiety not letting him rest. The second task was behind the corner, and time was mercilessly ticking away.
OoOoOooOoOooO
It was the afternoon before D-Day when Hermione found a solution to Harry's swimming handicap. They were at their usual spot in the common room, doing last-minute, desperate research that was proving futile. Hermione had been whispering under her breath for a hot minute, getting jittery. Then she suddenly stood up and headed for her dorm room, leaving without a word. Neither Harry nor Ron tried to find sense in her actions anymore; the last few days were intense and grating on Hermione's nerves constantly. When she came back, her eyes were glowing with excitement.
"I can't believe I didn't think about it sooner," she exclaimed, the corners of her mouth fighting a smile. "We've been looking at it from the wrong angle!"
"Yes, and will you tell us what's the new angle already?" Ron urged her impatiently, while Harry was fidgeting from the relentlessness. They were both beyond stressed.
"Who doesn't know how to swim?" She asked with a triumphant smirk.
Ron frowned at her. "Uhh... Harry?"
"Children! Small kids, babies!" Hermione exclaimed with an eye roll. "I got this owl delivered this morning," she said and pulled out a thin book, letting it hit the table between the boys with a satisfying slapping sound.
Harry squinted at the title that read: "Make Your Children Float, Enjoy Your Vacation Worry-Free!"
"That looks like a bad advertisement," Ron mumbled under his breath, but neither paid him any mind.
"I found multiple spells that are suitable," Hermione continued, turning to Harry and opening the book to a seemingly random page. "But I think this one is the best," she showed him the contents closely; "it's a spell that charms your clothes to help you swim. I've already tried it on myself just now, and it works. The fabric will transfigure into these small fins that will wriggle around and help you with the swimming movements, just like you wanted."
She was smiling with her brightest, proudest smile that was reserved for her biggest achievements. It was only after Harry hugged her tightly that he realized his smile wasn't any less wide. All he could do was repeat "Thank you, thank you so much, you're brilliant, thank you..." while the weight fell from his shoulders. Ron didn't join their hug, but his half-smile was genuine, and the love he felt for his friends radiating.
OoOoOoOooOOO
Their happiness was short-lived. There was still the second - and main - problem to solve. With less than twelve hours until the Black Lake claimed Harry, the trio was still clueless about a way to make him stay underwater longer than several seconds.
"Look, worst-case scenario, you'll take a swim around the lake until the hour is up. If you go far enough, I doubt anyone from the shore would see you. It'll be more dignifying than you just standing around," Ron remarked when the atmosphere became unbearably tense.
Harry didn't react; he hardly heard his best friend over the blood pumping in his ears. He messed up. This was all his fault, and now he was going to become a laughing stock for the whole school again due to his own negligence.
It burned his insides, made the hair on his back crawl around; he felt nauseous, dizzy, and so damn stressed. He messed up, he did, and he was willing to admit it too; just please, anyone, stop this madness, please, I beg you...
Hermione and Ron had to leave, some urgent matter, apparently, and were needed in Dumbledore's office. Harry was left alone.
He didn't know how it happened. One moment, his eyes were staring at the book on his thighs, and another, it was his head resting on his knees.
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Dobby saved him.
Dobby woke him up, Dobby shoved that gelatinous-like substance into his hand, claiming it would help Harry. Dobby told him they had Ron.
They have Ron.
The singing of the riddle was like a disharmonious shriek in his head, screaming, "We've taken what you'll sorely miss," over and over again like a broken record.
They have Ron. We've taken what you'll sorely miss. They got Ron. Sorely miss. Ron. Ron. Ron.
His thoughts were an incoherent mess, and Harry reached the lake in a drunken daze. His legs were aching from the running, his lungs tingling uncomfortably.
Harry ignored the stares he got. He ignored everything and everyone, including the Slytherins and their snide remarks. He ignored the Professors berating him for being almost late, and he ignored Percy with his smart comments. Furthermore, he completely ignored Snape, whose attire was uncharacteristically lacking his black cloak.
They have Ron.
Harry almost jumped into the lake before the task started. He quickly charmed his clothes, seeing and feeling small fins coat his body. Then he ate the mushy, slimy mess Dobby gave him, chewing and swallowing the weed with a poker face.
We've taken what you'll sorely miss. Oh, they did.
Harry's foot entered the chilling water first once the second task officially began, making a huge step forward. His shoe filled with lake water immediately, but he hardly noticed, making another step forward. And then another. And another.
The cold temperature was like razors against his skin, but Harry didn't waver once.
They have Ron. They've got Ron. That one thought kept him going, making him swim forward at a feverishly fast pace.
Though, as Harry found out half an hour later, it wasn't just Ron the Merpeople took. It was Hermione, and it was Cho as well... and he could not save them all; but he had to, all of them looked so lifeless and pale and not breathing, and please, he had to-
Krum appeared, or what was still left recognizable from him in his shark form, and saved Hermione, successfully stopping Harry's approaching panic attack. Then Cedric came and took Cho, so it was now just Ron and that small girl Harry assumed was Fleur's special person. Younger sister? Cousin?
Fleur didn't come. Harry waited and waited, then the time was already up, and he waited some more... and then he took them both.
The effects of the smiley substance Dobby gave him were already wearing off when the three of them emerged to the surface. Ron congratulated him between coughing up water, quickly coming to himself. Relief flooded Harry's stomach once he saw his best friend moving again, not resembling a drowned corpse anymore.
They started swimming to the shore, Ron helping the little girl as she couldn't swim while Harry followed behind them. It wasn't long until he noticed that the duo in front of him was progressively moving away from him, and even though Harry tried to swim faster, he suddenly couldn't.
How long does the swimming charm last?
It was a fleeting thought and a question he should have asked Hermione sooner – but he didn't. He saw Ron and the girl reach the shore and took out his wand to perform the charm again-
Then the pain hit him.
It was like a lightning bolt, springing from the tip of his toes to his whole body. Harry grunted, his body curling into a ball, his head suddenly underwater, no oxygen in his lungs. He wanted to move his body but couldn't do more than wince, as the pain was overwhelming, consuming him the same way water would consume his insides in a moment-
A cramp. I'll drown and die because of a cramp.
In any other situation, the irony of it would make Harry laugh. As it was, he was busy holding his breath and not crying out loud from the stabbing pain that intensified with every second. His hands were clenched into fists around his leg, his eyes shut tightly, lungs feeling as if they were going to implode-
Harry was about to reminisce about his short-lived life when his arm was grabbed and yanked upward, his head crashing through the water's surface with force. The pain in his leg worsened with the unexpected movement, and he cried out, but as he did, his mouth took the opportunity to gulp the fresh air, making the oxygen flow in his veins again. He coughed painfully and tried to focus on breathing and the relief it brought him, not on the way someone was dragging his semi-limp frame outside of the water, not on the way his muscles were still spasming, and definitely not on the way a sardonic voice kept complaining.
"Only you, Potter… nobody else is capable of drowning a few yards from the bank…"
Harry hissed loudly when his body was unceremoniously deposited onto solid ground. "…Only you…" Snape above him huffed. The next second, a glass vial was forced into Harry's open mouth, and a thick liquid dripped down his throat.
Harry sputtered, but it was too late; he had already swallowed most of the unknown potion. "Drink it, for goodness' sake!" he heard Snape's quiet but irritated voice again. The man also sounded a little breathless.
Harry wanted to bark something back at him but didn't find the strength to speak. The potion he drank left a warm and fuzzy feeling behind, making the pain in his leg vanish completely, relaxing every tense nerve.
He was still panting heavily, his body recovering from the borderline traumatizing experience, but it was more bearable now. Harry chanced to turn his head up after finally catching his breath, deciding to look at his mighty saviour, only to be greeted by Snape's tall figure, which was currently soaking wet.
Snape's black clothes were hugging his body tightly, dripping small water droplets everywhere, and Harry noticed that the man wasn't wearing his cloak. It was a strange sight, almost as if the professor was naked without the oversized piece of fabric.
Snape's twisted expression wasn't the only face that greeted him, though; dozens of other people — students — were looking at Harry, some curious, some worried, some snickering. But their faces were a blur, Harry couldn't focus his sight on anything.
My glasses… he fumbled with his hands around, or tried to, but his limbs weren't listening to him.
His ear began to pick up multiple voices that were previously just background noise, but then everything started spinning again, sounds became muffled until they faded completely, and the edges of his vision started blackening.
The very last thing Harry saw was Snape's widened eyes looking down at him.
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Finally the second task is done! Wah, I didn't want to leave you on a cliffhanger, so I hope you won't consider the ending as being one… initially, the chapter was meant to end right after Harry got a cramp, haha. ;)
I truly hope I'll update more frequently from now on, but my school is killing me… I began to write in my phone notes app during my lectures and skipped some sleep to give you this chapter… so don't be too harsh with your criticism if you didn't like it. xD my fragile emotional balance won't be able to handle it.