22nd March 1995 - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Glencoe Highlands, Scotland.
Harry had been swimming for almost five minutes to the very second when he abruptly realized he probably could have asked the others what other runes they had encountered and offered up the couple he had spotted with his quick swim around the outside of the lake.
It would have been a decently fair trade all things considered.
Well, maybe it was a little stacked in his favour since the others were bound to the length of time of their charms while he himself could comfortably meander about, exploring this or that at his indefinite leisure.
It was one of the little - or really not so little - things that had started to shift his thinking just a bit.
It wasn't that this task was geared to give him an easy win.
Someone on the organising committee had obviously decided to use his anomalous entry for their own purposes, turning Harry himself into another obstacle that the intended champions had to overcome. For all that they had all become friends or at least friendly acquaintances during their interactions thus far and as polite as they all were, it was still an unavoidable fact that while Fleur, Viktor and Cedric were the champions that represented their school and their respective student bodies, Harry was the outsider.
Harry didn't belong.
So the idea to make the most of Harry's perceived talents to increase the pressure the other three felt in each successive task so more and more they were struggling against the task and Harry and it was probably only their amicable interactions thus far and the publicly dubious nature of his entry into the Tournament that stopped a certain sort of animosity from developing.
Not that Harry would have blamed them, for all that he might have been a bit hurt by the behaviour.
In short order he managed to find five other runes and it seemed that they had been liberally spread about at the deeper parts of the lake, almost like upending a bag of marbles and leaving them wherever they had come to a stop. Which was probably how they had gone about it, now that he thought on it.
The most common rune tiles used for learning purposes had two faces, positive and negative so that a student could more conveniently study the different positions of a particular rune.
It certainly wouldn't have taken much effort, Harry thought, to multiply a set then enlarge them to tablet size to make them easier to view in the dim lighting then toss them about at random in the lake.
It would certainly have explained why some of them were quite hidden, but several others were just haphazardly lying about. Because finding the correct ones needed to complete the task was much less important for this particular challenge than actually correctly arranging and using them.
Because it didn't matter what you managed to find if you didn't know how to make proper use of it.
Which coincidentally was the same lesson Ruknukle had taught him when they had first started in on his weapons training.
Well, one of the lessons at any rate.
Though it admittedly irked Harry just a little, going from being told he had to "find the hidden runes" then finding that they weren't really hidden very well at all. He absently wondered if it was laziness on someone's part or if the person responsible for hiding the rune slates really just thought that poorly of the abilities of a bunch of seventeen year olds.
He absently wondered if the others felt the same mild level of insult or if his aching wounds were making him particularly grouchy.
Though on the subject of wounds it seemed like most creatures that called the lake home were giving him a fairly wide berth neither curious about him or intent on making the most of his current weakness to own low goals. Whether for food or dominance over an interloper in their territory.
He honestly wasn't too sure what he had expected but even the merpeople gave him a wide berth, swimming well out of his way like a school of fish before a predator. Which was both understandable but also not quite on the mark either.
Because while Harry was rather large in his animagus form, large enough they had discovered to carry at least two grown men on his back when he flew, his particular species was just as sapient as the merpeople. Just as potentially friendly.
He decided not to hold the standoffish behaviour against them as he swam forward to examine the raised platform their parting had revealed and the rune tablets that were lined up atop it like an offering.
In the end it was their lack of opposition to his presence that made him consider something he hadn't yet.
As insultingly easy as the task had been made for him, it hadn't occurred to him that it might have been made that way for a specific reason outside of pandering to his position or his age.
But floating as he was at the bottom of the lake, surrounded by the merpeople that hid behind each other, gripped tridents and other tools and weapons, or merely kept their eyes averted in an obvious show of deference, Harry understood that the three rune tablets truly were an offering.
He was being given everything he needed, just like he had in the previous task.
Everything he needed to make something new.
Something valuable.
To show keen observers how it was done.
Whether it was true or not was still to be determined, as was whether or not the semi-transparent ploy was malicious in nature or if it was some backhanded attempt to stabilise him atop the odd pedestal he seemed to have found his way onto.
Because it was one thing to pander - whether to Harry himself, or the masses - but it would mean something else entirely if someone had turned this whole farce of a Tournament into a means to steal his accomplishments at best.
Or measure his abilities for some other - potentially foul - plot that would be sprung on him at some point in the future.
Or he could be imagining it all, which would be embarrassing.
Though given his steadily growing number of yearly exploits, he was more inclined to believe that he might be onto something.
His bump of trouble just knew something wasn't quite right.
Pushing the thought aside as something to mull over later with his small council Harry instead scrutinized the offered runes.
Inverse Kenaz, a lack of vision or knowledge, the absence of fire and creativity. Dagaz to symbolise a breakthrough or an awakening. And lastly Wunjo in the inverse position, a lack of joy or comfort. An absence of pleasure.
The basic array he had been presented with had been all about invoking a quiet sort of calm, with the runes Harry had found - or been offered - he knew he could build up an array that would do that and a bit more.
He took a moment to contemplate his rough plan before he turned and gave a nod to the individual that floated a little in front of the others, noticeably older whom Harry took to be the leader of the Lake's merfolk commune and took his leave. Weaving his way carefully away from the mix of plant woven and stone constructed huts.
If he had his timing right, he knew that Fleur and Cedric would have approximately half an hour left at a maximum on their respective Bubble-Head charms. Which would drive them back to the surface unless they had managed to master the spell sufficiently enough to cast it silently.
Viktor's partial transformation, though an impressive bit of self-transfiguration also had a very definite limit to its duration. Though that time was measured more against Viktor's magic than any specific limits imparted by the spell that was used itself.
But even still, with the amount of power the older teen had had to utilise with the kelpie alone, Harry didn't think his transformation would last much longer than Fleur and Cedric's charms.
Which technically gave him an advantage, however if he dragged out his own underwater time by too much he might be docked points for the delay.
This was still a competition and as much as Ron or the Twins loved to keep telling him how much they and everyone else was looking forward to what mad thing he'd do next, Harry was sure there would be a point beyond what those people were willing to wait for the next spectacle. And beyond that cheerful veneer of expectation and patience lay a small horde of disgruntled and oft petty people.
And they would be petty, something he had come to understand the longer he spent time in the magical side of the world. People of magic, particularly the humans, tended to turn very petty and spiteful when they felt they had been insulted or wronged in some way.
He had seen it in Ron, in Snape, even in Hermione though she liked to pretend she was taking the higher road. Even Sirius and Remus could get a bit petty when the mood or inclination struck. The only person he had spent any real amount of time with thus far that hadn't displayed the same trait was Neville. Though he was starting to think that Neville might be the wizard equivalent of a unicorn.
Definitely a rare breed.
As his self assigned time was drawing to a close he made his way back up to the surface with a last few runes floating about in the back of his mind, slotting into place like pieces of an elaborate jigsaw puzzle. He reasoned that the sooner he had it all plotted out in his mind, the sooner he would get it done when it came time to properly or paint the array, whichever means was set up while they were in the lake.
Breaching the water's surface at once made Harry feel both heavier and lighter, missing the almost weightlessness of the water and the resistance of it while instead buoyed in the air by his magic.
Back on land there was a large space cleared for him to land in and a selection of work tables set up not far from it. Each table had a small smorgasbord of tools that could be used when preparing a runic array for use.
Harry counted everything from engraving tools to needles and an assortment of threads of various thickness, colour and base type. They had even supplied each table with a quantity of metal threads which were more expensive than most of the more commonplace threads used for stitching arrays into fabric or hide bases. Though they weren't as expensive or as rare as some of the thread that was crafted from the hairs of magical creatures or beings. Some of which he thought might also be present given the unnatural sheen some of the reels of thread had.
Settling himself down gingerly Harry took a moment to focus himself both in the here and now and on his body as he gave himself to the shift and promptly grimaced when his wounds seemed to ache that much more in his human body.
Movement to one side grabbed at his attention and he watched Mr. Bagman approach. "Har- ah, your majesty, are you well enough to continue?" He asked, stumbling over himself a bit. "Do you need to be seen by a healer?"
Taking a moment to take stock of the angry throb in his neck and back Harry thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. "We may continue."
The older man nodded quickly before quickly hurrying away to confer with the judges.
Glancing around again Harry noted that each of the other champions were already present and chatting quietly with their respective guardian school head for the moment and Viktor had his arms up at odd angles while Highmaster Karkaroff prodded at his ribs between questions. And Harry had to wonder if the older teen had been hurt before he had arrived to render aid against the kelpie or if he had run afoul of something unhappy after they had split up again.
He felt an odd little ache as he watched them.
Each of these other teenagers, adults in their own right in age and standing, with a wealth of life experiences to cheer and encourage them.
Meanwhile Harry, for all that he was an adult as far as his titles and responsibilities were concerned was still frustratingly a child, with a child's experiences. With a sad child's experiences.
And he stood alone.
Shaking his head briskly in a bid to shake off the morose line of thinking and wondered not for the first time of late where his mind was wandering off to.
Certainly nowhere good.
With a resolute mental note to bring it up with Frederick during their next proper sit down session, Harry half listened to Mr. Bagman as he started to explain the tools and purpose of the layout everyone that was watching - either in the stands at Hogwarts or elsewhere - was seeing.
Though really he was just passing off those explanations to Professor Bathsheda Babbling, Hogwarts Ancient Runes instructor when he started to stumble over even the more basic principles of the craft.
Mr. Bagman, Harry thought, did not do very well when forced out of his personal area of expertise. Perfectly charming and insightful when the topic of discussion came to Quidditch, but he really did seem to flounder quite badly when the topic turned to fields he was less than familiar with.
It made him a little curious how the man had managed to rise to the position he currently held.
Stepping up to one of the tables once they were given leave to begin, Harry reached for a block of dark gray stone shaped like an obelisk and settled it carefully in front of himself before reaching for the engraving tools.
There were several ways he could go about bringing his array out of his imagination and into the physical plane. It could be sewn into a quilt, painted onto a wall or ceiling. It could even be weaved into existence with naught but will and magic, though that way was by far the least permanent and the most complex.
Engraving into stone was a tried and true approach and the only thing better would have been etching it into crystal, which both held information far better and regulated magical flow much smoother than stone did. But it was in turn more expensive than even the metal threads, so Harry had settled on stone which he was just as familiar with thanks to his lessons with the goblin shamans.
His hands moved in easy rhythms as he worked, reminding him rather viscerally of his efforts to piece together the runic pieces he needed as the base for the truth curse that ran constantly in Skyfall's high court chambers. Then again when he crafted the statues for the important Ministry offices that would allow for a temporary field of the same effect.
Back then - and wasn't it odd to think of it as if it had been years ago and not a short handful of months, Harry thought - he had been near desperate for a way to make sure his own government didn't at some point do the same thing the British Ministry had done to Sirius. To make sure they wouldn't be the reason an innocent man woke up screaming, tearing at himself in horror when his unconscious mind saw fit to remind him what it had been like to be at the absolute mercy of a being that had none. That would tear tiny agonising bits of his soul away like peeling the skin of a fruit so sup on. Or because it amused them.
But Harry wasn't desperate now.
He had no pressing need for the array he was meticulously carving into the stone face with his enchanted tools.
The only desire driving him forward was the one for a job well done.
There was no one to please but a panel of judges, no one's life was hanging on the line and a war wouldn't break out if he somehow made a wrong choice here or there.
For all that he had poopooed the whole Triwizard Tournament for being a horrible mess almost from the ground up, Harry had to admit that these moments, both in the second task and in this one where all he had to do was buckle down and create something, were oddly gratifying.
It made him wonder if he shouldn't try to muscle in some time during his week to work on something that had nothing to do with his role as king, or with building a city - an entire nation - from the ground up.
Almost everything he did could be tied back to it, even when he was blowing off steam running through the training courses Sirius had designed for their law enforcement, of which they already had a few successful candidates pass the rigorous training and testing they had set up, though given the peaceful nature of the city they'd had little to do but patrol the streets and partake in further training. As fun as Sirius made it, it still tied in to his responsibilities since he would no doubt use those skills he was learning to protect his people should the need arise.
Even working with the Twins on the different pieces of merchandise for their shops was exactly that, work.
Fun work, most definitely. It was impossible to spend any real amount of time around them and not have some degree of fun.
But fun work was still work, something done for a cause with a goal in mind that would have a distinct need or benefit beyond entertainment.
He absently wondered for a moment if he even had hobbies anymore.
He still enjoyed flying, though he didn't need a broom for that anymore and Volstar didn't have any Quidditch teams - nor even a pitch yet - for him to watch or play with. He enjoyed reading but most of his material was instructional or at least some way academic in nature and the few books he picked up for fun ended up being memorised in the first reading.
Because as it turned out he couldn't read anything without memorising it in its entirety.
He'd checked.
He didn't really enjoy dancing all that much, though he knew how not to make a complete tit of himself thanks to the Yule Ball. So that was out. The same could be said for singing, though he had found out he could carry a tune, even if he didn't have that natural spark that made a singer, a singer.
The puzzles Akihito had introduced him to and kept sending with his letters were interesting and he did enjoy them, particularly the more complex puzzle boxes. But even those proved too easy to keep him from finishing rather quickly so they didn't really keep him entertained for very long at all.
They were still rather focused on working on building their core structures so unless a family member of one of their head hunted citizens was in the business of entertainment, and more importantly building such a venue, there wasn't much in the way of pool halls or arcades or theatres for Harry to haunt.
He absently wondered if he had just been too busy to notice that he'd been rather bored lately.
Abruptly his busy hands came to a stop and his glowing green eyes widened as a thought occurred to him.
Had he become boring?
Did he really just sit around all day working now?
Maybe that was why the Twins had taken such an interest in dragging him off whenever they got a chance.
Maybe they were trying to fix him.
Oh, Merlin.
Was he an embarrassment to the Marauders?
To Sirius?
Did Sirius think he was boring now?
His godfather hadn't said anything of the sort, true, but maybe he was just trying to spare Harry's feelings?
Remus was too polite to call Harry a bore, so he wasn't an accurate gauge on the state of things.
Most of the other people Harry spent his time with were all both older and rather professional in their behaviour. Which was to be expected since most of their conversations and interactions revolved around work related topics.
He didn't get to spend any real time with anyone his own age - Malfoy didn't count - since all his friends were still stuck in school and he couldn't just drop in and disrupt their education.
He was pretty sure Ron would thank him, but he was absolutely certain Hermione would either chide him or wallop him with one of her thicker books.
His hands returned to their work on the runes while the less busy parts of his mind continued to ponder over the predicament he had inexplicably found himself with.
The most obvious solution was of course, to do something interesting. To find a new hobby to enjoy that would take up a little time but give him something else to share with other people and give him a potential avenue to make new friends.
There was of course his old idea of taking concepts from science fiction novels he had read and finding a way to replicate some of them with magic. Automated charms on vacuum cleaners and other cleaning tools, coffee pots or teapots that would automatically fill themselves at programed times so a fresh cup was always there ready to greet you in the morning. Automated heating and cooling charms built into homes and offices to help maintain comfortable temperatures without intervention.
Or maybe he could finally get around to convert mundane cinema and take home movies or telly to magical versions.
As isolated as Volstar was, they didn't really have to worry about non-magical folk stumbling across things they ought not to.
The idea of having their own television stations to broadcast the news or a gardening show or even one of those daytime dramas that his aunt Petunia practically lived off but pretended were beneath her, honestly was rather appealing.
It would give them a wider range of sources for entertainment and dissemination of news rather than strictly relying on the newspaper or the wizarding wireless.
Nodding absently to himself Harry made a tentative agreement with himself to start looking into it while he waited on news from the research teams he had been able to send to India about his not so little Horcrux problem. Hopefully if that went well it would pave the way for a more personal visit.
Project done, Harry absently raised a hand to announce its completion and readiness for judging while he settled back into a conjured stool to contemplate his new side project after he'd finished explaining his intent and methodology.
Meanwhile he could spend a bit of time contemplating the prospect of wix versions of old muggle shows like 'Are You Being Served', 'Allo Allo', 'Eastenders' or 'Coronation Street'.
Or even better, 'Dr Who'.
There were so many possibilities, really.
They could make their own cartoons with accurate magical superheroes for kids.
There were so many possibilities, all he had to do was figure out how to make it work.
No big deal.