Chapter Five - A Surprise Development

Over the next couple of weeks Harry and Daphne fell into an uneasy truce. The first thing he had done was double check if gillyweed would be effective with Professor Sprout, not that he didn't trust Daphne, but he didn't trust her. Each night they would spend an hour or two together, very few words were exchanged, often the pair sat in silence. Completing their homework, studying or just watching the flames dance in the fireplace, occasionally enjoying a bit of firewhiskey. It was very different to what Harry was used to with his fellow Gryffindors, but it was at least peaceful, and much better than being alone. At one point he'd offered to help her when she'd seemed stuck in a transfiguration essay, but she'd merely sniffed and given him her superior look before refusing. He hadn't offered again after that. She had also only referred to him as Potter since that night. It annoyed him but not enough for him to say anything and risk upsetting the delicate peace they had formed. As for their housemates? Hermione had begun to talk to him again, but very limited and brief conversations. He acknowledged that was more his own fault as he was reluctant to let her back in after her reaction at the start of term. She had been trying but he was far too guarded. Neville he had been spending a bit of time with, they'd enjoy a portion of their day joking in the library, almost like old times. He had asked where Harry had been staying but all he'd replied was that he had an arrangement, not feeling comfortable giving away anymore. The rest of his year mates hadn't spoken to him apart from the odd sly comment or insult, especially from Ron. It was awful, but it wasn't as bad as Daphne had it, her entire house had totally ostracised her, including Astoria. As far as they were concerned she'd sold herself to Slytherin's greatest enemy. They didn't even know she'd been sharing a room with him for the past few weeks, she didn't want to think about what they'd say upon learning of that. They hadn't discussed the contract at all. He sat their in his armchair, musing quietly, thoughts turning to the upcoming task tomorrow. He was confident with his strategy and felt prepared, Dobby having stolen some gillyweed from Snape's storage cupboard yet he was still curious as to what he would have to retrieve.

"So are you ready for the task?" Daphne asked absentmindedly, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yeah, I think so, as long as that gillyweed lasts I should be fine, still not sure what I can expect down their though," he sighed, twiddling his thumbs. Daphne rolled her eyes.

"You'll be fine Potter, if what you said about the Basilisk was true, and I find myself inclined to believe you, then you're worrying about nothing," she retorted rolling her eyes. Harry bit back a snarky response, she wasn't wrong. Sighing, he stood and began making his way over to his bed.

"Well you're not wrong, but still it's that unknown factor, anyway, I'm getting a good nights sleep, need my wits about me," he sighed. Daphne reached out and poured a glass of firewhiskey.

"Sure you don't want one? For the nerves? If it was me I would, I hate the water" She asked offering him the bottle while giving a small shudder.

"Better not, I want my wits about me tomorrow, probably shouldn't show up hungover," he said wryly with a small smile. She didn't return it and just watched him, stony faced. Sighing once more, he made his way to his bed.

—-

Standing on the platform, Harry stared down at the murky water a couple of feet below him, his fellow champions stood along side him. The gillyweed clenched tightly in his fist. Across the stands a barrage of cheers were echoing across the lake.

"Come on Cedric!"

"You've got this Fleur"

"For Durmstrang!"

"5 galleons on Potter losing!"

Harry scowled as he glanced around the crowd, the only ones cheering his name were anticipating failure. He caught out Neville who gave him a shy thumbs up and a smile, lifting his spirits a little. He couldn't see Daphne, but wasn't surprised, there were hundreds of students along with various spectators. As he scanned the crowds, drowning out the voices of the judges around him, a huge cannon blast brought him back to reality. The other champions all dived in simultaneously and he reacted quickly, shoving the cold, wet gillyweed in his mouth, almost choking on the texture before diving in after them. Immediately his hands shot up as he felt a burning pain in his neck. It felt like someone was trying to slash his throat from the inside. Simultaneously, his hands and feet were in agony as he felt them bending and stretching horrifically. 'What's wrong? What's this plant doing to me? Is this how I die?' He continued to thrash for a few more seconds before a calm overcame him. His neck felt different as his fingers brushed over the openings before he realised. Eyes lighting up as he took a deep breath, the newly formed gills filtering vital oxygen from the surrounding water. Amazed, he looked at his hands and feet, they had stretched and become webbed, he had flippers. Smiling, he grabbed his wand with one hand and began to swim rapidly deeper into the murky water, determined to reach the lake's centre. As he swam deeper below the surface, he caught movement in the weeds below him. Slowing down, he focused his eyesight, everything clear thanks to the gillyweed. Stillness. Everything was calm.

Suddenly, something burst out of the plants below him, flanked by other creatures. His eyes widened as he recognised them from Defense against the Dark Arts last year. Grindylows. Instinctively, he pulled out his wand and waved it towards them. A repulso flew towards the creatures, blasting them backwards and scattering them. He looked at his wand wide eyed. That was his first time casting a non-verbal spell. Feeling slightly smug, he once again swam off, descending into the darkness.

—-

After about thirty minutes he arrived at what must have been the merpeople's city. Large stone sculptures carved up through the depths and he could hear their eerie music as they swam lazily back and forth in the distance. Keeping focused, he swam on through their home, the sculptures getting larger until he made out what must've been the centre. As he arrived his eyes widened. There were four people floating serenely, looking like they were in stasis. Eyes widening even further, he realised one of them was Daphne. He groaned internally, 'great, now the whole school is going to see me dragging her from a lake, that's really going to help both of us'. He looked at the three remaining people and gasped as he recognised Hermione. She must've been there for Krum. He could also make out Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker, and a young blonde girl he didn't recognise who bared a resemblance to Fleur. There was a rope around each of their ankles so he swam down to the bottom of the lake and picked up a particularly jagged rock, swimming back to Daphne's rope. He'd resigned himself to help her, despite what the rest of the school would say and how it would impact the pair of them, he couldn't just leave her there after she'd helped him. Besides, she'd even told him the night before she was afraid of water. Anger rising inside him, he began sawing through the rope, conscious of the increased number of hostile looking merpeople beginning to surround him. As he finally severed the rope, something appeared out of the gloom. It was Cedric, head surrounded by a bubble. He looked at Harry and then raised an eyebrow when he saw Daphne. Harry nodded at him and held out the stone which Cedric accepted with a smile. As the Hufflepuff began cutting the rope tied to Cho, Harry wrapped his arms around Daphne's back and began kicking upwards to the surface. He was almost there when he spotted something glinting and zooming towards them. It was a trident. His quidditch reflexes kicked in and he whipped around, doing a 180 degree spin. The trident, originally sailing towards the back of Daphne's neck, slammed hard into his shoulder and sank into his flesh. Immediately he spasmed, almost losing his grip on the girl as stars swam in his eyes. It felt like someone had carved a hole in his back and filled it with flaming petrol. Gasping as his adrenaline kicked in, he gave two hard kicks and the two of them broke the surface. Cheers began sounding followed by exclamations of shock as people took notice of the weapon sticking out of his body as the water quickly reddened around him. Harry was on the verge of passing out when he felt a hand grab his good shoulder. Cedric had surfaced just behind him.

"Come on mate, you can't pass out, we've got to get you out the water," Cedric gasped, eyes wide with shock as he began pulling Harry towards the closest pontoon. Daphne had also woken, terrified to find herself in the middle of the lake, but upon seeing the state of Harry, she instinctively helped Cedric and grabbed Harry's arm. The pain was excruciating but Harry could only manage a weak moan as they reached the pontoon and hands dragged him out the water. The last thing he saw before finally passing out was Madam Pomfrey bustling towards him…

—-

Slowly, Harry's eyes opened and he took in the dark room around him. He was in the hospital wing. His mind raced back to the second task. He'd been impaled with a trident. Ah, that would explain why he was here. He sat up but gasped as a shooting pain ran through his shoulder. Upon hearing his pain, Madam Pomfrey appeared from her office.

"No no, you stay in bed Mr Potter, you're in no state yet to get up, really a trident, what are those judges thinking?" She bustled, pushing Harry's head back down. He was about to protest but remembered how tired he was, allowing sleep to overtake him again.

—-

Three days later he was discharged from the hospital wing, the pain in his shoulder nothing more than a dull ache. He'd had a handful of visitors. Neville had come multiple times, having a few laughs with him and playing exploding snap like old times. Cedric had dropped in to see how he was doing as well as telling Harry how well everyone had done in the task. He'd come first, despite Karkaroff's blatant favouritism as well as how Dumbledore had apparently gone ballistic with the chief of the merpeople. Harry's face had darkened upon the mention of the old man. Hermione had appeared briefly, finding Harry a little more talkative than before and for the first time since term had begun, they parted each with a smile on their face. The Weasley twins also appeared, taking great delight in joking about his wound as well as the fact Ron had lost ten galleons betting against him and was now begging them for his money back. Other than the brief interludes of enjoying conversation however, Harry had been thoroughly bored and depressed.

Arriving back at the room of requirement, Harry pushed the door open and was met instantly with the sight of blonde hair whipping around, those piercing blue eyes locking onto him yet instead of the usual indifference or malice, they were filled with concern.

"Harry? Are - are you ok?" She asked quickly, propped up against the back of the sofa. Her eyes were red and she looked like she'd been crying.

"Uh, I'm fine," he responded blankly, shocked by her reaction to seeing him.

"Cedric told me what happened," she responded, eyes flicking down to the floor, "how that trident was about to pierce my throat before you spun around and took the hit yourself, how you saved my life." She glanced up at him, eyes wet and with a slight red tinge on her cheeks. "Why?"

"I know you don't really like me," he sighed, his eyes meeting the floor now, "but I couldn't just let you die in front of me, especially after you helped me." Slowly he walked towards his armchair, his own cheeks slightly red. He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt her delicate hand wrap around his wrist as she instead manoeuvred him onto the sofa beside her. The reddening in his cheeks intensified.

"But why? With this - this contract, surely it would have been an easy way out for you, to get away from me," she whispered hoarsely. Harry's eyes widened in shock and confusion.

"Daphne," he started, using her first name for the first time, "I'm not going to watch you die just because of some piece of paper our dads signed. It's not your fault, nor is it mine." She looked up and gave him a small, genuine smile. 'She's nice when she smiles' his blush deepened. "Anyway, now I'll have a cool scar on my back to show off," he laughed, desperate to break the tension. She looked up at him, that smile replaced with an expression of almost sadness. She seemed to be about to speak before she bit her lip, contemplating for a minute.

"Harry, that first night here, when you gave me a bed, I - I couldn't help but notice your back. All the… all the scars. What happened?" She whispered softly, so quiet that Harry almost couldn't hear. His face darkened and he seemed to struggle for words.

"The Dursleys," he spat out angrily, "my mothers sister and her family. I was 'raised' by them, they hated magic. Every time there was an incident, it was always the freaks fault. My uncle normally used a belt, if he was in a bad mood he'd use the buckle…" Harry trailed off, gazing into the distance as he recalled the years of abuse he had suffered. Daphne's eyes widened, she'd had no idea, but then that letter, he'd been so upset. He could've been brought up by his godfather, a wizard who would've raised him properly. But thanks to Dumbledore's lies and manipulation that man had ended up in prison and the boy beside her had been abused. Glancing up, she saw a tear running down his cheek and realised that she too was silently crying. Slowly, she moved over and cautiously wrapped her arms around him. He froze momentarily before gradually he leant into the hug. They stayed like that for a long time, silent until sleep overtook the pair.