Harry's eyes darted helplessly from one face to the next. From the silver-haired girl he didn't know, to Cho, to Ron, to Hermione, all tied down by ropes of weed to the tail of a giant merperson statue. The song from the golden egg echoed in his mind— We've taken what you'll sorely miss…But past an hour—the prospect's black / Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.
He looked around wildly and when he saw that none of the other champions were near, imagined the weight of heavy stones attempting to pull him down to the depths. Where was everyone? A crowd of leering merpeople, all threateningly brandishing their spears had gathered nearby, seemingly waiting for his next move. Spotting numerous rocks at the lake bottom, he swam down and, after a cursory glance over, picked up one that reminded him of a very crude knife.
Running his finger over the jagged edges of the rock, he began to move towards Ron when he paused. What you'll sorely miss… He looked at Ron, then turned to Hermione.
He froze.
His mind screamed at him for even entertaining the prospect of choosing between his two best friends in this situation. But his body betrayed him as it made that choice and diverted his course. Because from earlier experience that year, he had an inkling of his life without Ron—knew he would be miserable, but when he tried to picture his life without Hermione, there was only a black nothingness. It had been over a year since he had been so angry with her over a broomstick that he refused to talk to her. But the incident seemed so trivial now, after their time-traveling adventure, after she had spent all that time practicing with him for the first task, after she had proven she would not leave his side when everyone else would. There would not—could not—be another extended period where they were not speaking to one another. So with a horrible detachedness, he was soon hacking away at the ropes that bound her. For there would be less laughter without Ron, but there would be no Harry without Hermione. And though he did not want to feel anything in that moment, and though her eyes remained closed, he felt the disapproving glower behind them at having made such a choice.
She was soon freed and floated by his side. The yellow eyes of the spear-carrying merpeople were still on Harry, but they seemed to be carrying in them a strange confusion. Guilt flooded him and he got the unsettling feeling that they somehow knew that he had done something he was not supposed to. But as he grabbed Hermione by the robes with one hand and moved towards Ron, jagged rock in the other, the merpeople sprang into action.
They surrounded him and lowered their spears. The largest one stared with an unimpressed look and shook his head. He held up one finger. Harry furiously shook his own head and attempted to give a voice to his rage but only bubbles flew out of his mouth. The merpeople laughed and Harry let go of Hermione momentarily to take out his wand. They stopped laughing but did not move as they kept their weapons pointed at him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione's body slowly drifting away and he fully turned to her in panic. His wand-holding hand reached outwards and his fingers gripped the hem of her robes. When he turned back to face the merpeople, their spears suddenly seemed so much sharper and when he cast a worried glance at Hermione, her skin seemed so much more prone to bleeding. His breathing became heavier and making up his mind to escape as fast as he could from, not only the spears but also the despair that was threatening to drag him down to the abyss, he grabbed her by the waist and began to swim upwards.
Every stroke forward became a small battle, his tears mixed with the lakewater and though he had gills, he did not even register that he was breathing. His throat became clogged and he only thought of getting Hermione quickly to the surface. Perhaps if he was fast enough, he could return to the statue…
On the way, he noticed another figure and saw that it was Cedric, who flashed him a grin and a thumbs-up as he swam past him to make his way down to the bottom of the lake. Harry glanced back, sparing him only a second before determinedly continuing to swim towards the surface. How could he have been smiling? Cedric clearly did not grasp the gravity of the situation…
Soon after that, Harry became aware of another approaching body. Even from a distance, he could recognize it as Krum. Not wanting to see another unsuspecting smile of someone who clearly had no idea of the seriousness of the matter, he moved away, feeling his arms growing weaker but summoning whatever strength that remained to tighten his hold around Hermione's waist. But his dread lessened slightly when he realized someone after all, would be going down for the remaining people tied to the statue.
When Viktor Krum reached the bottom of the lake, he was overcome with befuddlement. He looked again at the giant merperson statue. Attached to its tail were ropes that bound to it two people he did not know—a young silver-haired girl and a red-haired boy. He turned to the large spear-carrying merperson nearby and scowled, imploring with his eyes to be told what had happened and what he was supposed to do now. The merperson only gave him a sympathetic frown and shrugged.
Viktor looked around him, half-waiting for people to come out from behind the statue or the large rocks and tell him this was some kind of joke. When none did, he could do nothing but blankly stare at the two remaining hostages. It did not amuse him that the tournament had been fishy from the very beginning, first with the extra Hogwarts champion and now this, and the words bubbled out of his mouth in frustration and disbelief. "Vot the fuck."
Harry's head rose above the surface and he took in a big breath of air. His gills and flippers had vanished and at his side, he heard another gasp which told him Hermione had regained consciousness. He became aware of some applause and cheering mixed in with unfriendly jeers. But most prominent of all was a low rumble of confused muttering.
"Harry!"
Hermione's voice broke through the rest and he turned so their eyes met. She seemed shocked and even though Ludo Bagman's amplified voice boomed out some type of announcement, Harry's ears refused to let it in. He looked only at Hermione and watched as her expression changed from shock to curiosity as she tried to figure out what had happened.
His arm slowly slipped away from her waist as they continued to move to shore and by the time their feet touched the ground, he was holding on to only the edge of her robes. He took a couple more steps and relaxed now that the the lake only came up to their knees. Safe. Harry then became aware of his wet front hair stuck over his eyes. He felt prickling behind them and was suddenly very glad that his vision was blurred. Seconds later however, he could make out the outline of a hand growing closer. Hermione stroked his hair to the side, setting his eyes free. He blinked and saw clearly the mix of exasperation and amusement on her face. But she said nothing. He did not let go of her robe and they wordlessly waded out of the water until they were firmly on land.
They were soon covered in thick towels and as his senses slowly started to return, Harry now noticed more than ever, the looks everyone gave him. And combined with the hushed voices his ears were now letting in, he gradually came to a horrified realization that he had been beyond thickheaded and had been worked up over nothing: the hostages had never been in any real danger and he was now feeling stupider with every passing moment.
He watched Cedric triumphantly rise from the water, holding hands with Cho, and his insides squirmed. A fleeting image of the cover of a cheap-looking paperback he had once seen in the window of a Muggle bookstore came to his mind. An exceptionally handsome dark-haired man with a heroic look on his face had been carrying a beautiful blonde woman in his arms as he stood ankle-deep at the edge of the calm ocean. The man had apparently lost his shirt and his muscular, well-toned body was sparkling with the sheen of confidence and capability. The woman had been looking up at him, with inviting lips and her eyes like two moons, round and gleaming and full of adoration, presumably having just been saved from whatever dreadful fate had been in store. Or perhaps she was simply glad that her hair was spared the tragedy of wetness, seeing as she was completely dry. Harry had only seen the cover briefly, passing by it during one of his rare excursions from the Dursleys' house and he remembered thinking it had seemed rather silly at the time. But as he watched Cedric draw closer, he found that the picture was beginning to burn deeper into his mind along with his mounting shame.
Krum soon rose from the water as well and Harry was reminded once more of his stupidity when he saw that Ron had come up with him. But unlike him and Hermione or Cedric and Cho, Krum and Ron were not side by side. Rather, it seemed Krum had taken it on himself to carry Ron, lanky body stretched out across his arms. Harry was determined to avoid Ron's gaze for the time being, lest he say something about being abandoned, but before he averted his eyes, he thought he saw a strange dreamlike look come over Ron's face as he laid in Viktor Krum's arms.
As they remained sitting side by side, Harry felt Hermione's stare on him. He knew she could sense his embarrassment and was doing her best not to make it worse for him, as she had not said anything since first uttering his name. He did not want to hear anything from her either. He did not want to hear her questions asking if he was okay. He did not want to hear her assurances that he had not been stupid. He did not want to glean from the look in her eyes the surprise and disappointment she had felt when she had woken up and realized that she had come to the surface not with Viktor Krum as she was supposed to, but with him—with stupid Harry Potter. He was nobody's fantasy. Seeing the two older boys come out from the water after him had only convinced him further. He was fourteen and skinny with no strength in his arms and weak knees that would surely collapse if he tried to carry a girl. He was just a silly little boy who overthought too much for his own good and only wasted time foolishly trying to act the hero instead of being one.
Harry wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Away from the crowd, away from the other champions, away from her. Then a newly realized fear burst in him and spread throughout his entire body—a fear that he had revealed too much about himself, to her and to the public. He thought of all the cruel comments and derisive laughter that would be headed their way once the excitement had dissipated and he decided that at the very least, he needed to apologize to Hermione for putting her in this position.
He stood up with his eyes fixed on the crowd and sensed her stand up alongside him. The shame hit harder than ever and he could not bear to look at her. He turned his back to her and opened his mouth. "Hermione."
She did not let him say anything more as she grabbed his robes and pulled so hard that they were now facing each other. She was still wet and shivering. A strand of her brown hair messily clung to her cheek. Her face was flushed with the hint of a smirk forming on her lips. But her eyes—her eyes were like two moons.