(A/N: Hey. It's certainly been a while. I hope you're all doing well and taking care of yourselves. In preparation to finally finish this story I had a reread of the previous chapters. My God they were awful. So I took it upon myself to rewrite/rework the story to a standard that I can be happy with. Thus comes the "Remastered" version. Chapter Two will come in the next couple of days but I'll aim to have a new chapter at least every two weeks. Gives me a deadline to meet, thus I'll actually write. Hope you enjoy.)

~ The Problem with Veela ~

Chapter One: The Second Task

"You seem a little tense Harry." Said Neville Longbottom.

"Do I?" Came the sarcastic response of Harry James Potter, who was about to take on the momentous test of the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament. He had been incredibly close to not making the task. If it hadn't been for Dobby, Harry would've slept through the Second Task and wouldn't have found a solution to his breathing problem. The House Elf helpfully supplying him with not only the answer to the challenge facing him but also the means to undertake it. Harry made a mental note, if he survived this, to provide Dobby with a lifetime supply of horrible, knitted socks.

Returning his focus to the current moment, Harry suddenly came to the horrible realisation that he had no real idea about the properties of the magical herb sitting in his pocket. Other than 'you can breathe underwater' which admittedly was not much to go on, he didn't really know what it could do to him. He turned to his fellow Gryffindor.

"So Gillyweed.." he said to Neville, "Works for an hour?"

"Most likely." Replied the taller boy.

"Most likely?" Hissed Harry.

"Well, there is some debate between herbologists about the impact of freshwater and saltwater."

"And you're telling me this now?! You must be joking!" Exclaimed Harry.

"I just wanted to help." Said Neville, his voice trailing off.

Harry heard the hurt in his voice and immediately apologised. "Sorry, Neville. I don't mean to shout. Thank you."

Neville smiled at the stressed boy, he knew Harry didn't mean it. He surmised that the lack of a good night's sleep and support from those around him was making Harry a little tetchy.

"It's okay Harry, good luck." Neville said, shooting him a small smile.

Harry nodded back.

"Thanks!"

Grateful that Neville had been there, Harry scoured the crowd assembled on three large platforms overlooking the lake, hoping to spot a familiar redhead or bushy brunette. He hadn't seen Ron or Hermione at all and felt betrayed. Harry felt that the very least the two of them could do was support him. Hermione, all credit to her, had never left his side during the period of hostility between the Goblet of Fire spitting out his name and the completion of the First Task. She'd never doubted his word about not entering the Tournament in the first place, not even for a moment. She knew too much about it to think he had.

Ron had been a different matter. The two boys had come to a head over the piece of parchment with Harry's name inscribed on it. While they'd had arguments before nothing had ever felt quite as extreme. The time that followed had felt akin to Harry's first ten years of his life. He was ignored, laughed at and downright hated. The Slytherins' reactions he understood, nothing would change the contention between the houses of the snakes and lions, but the rest of the school turning on him came a little out of the blue.

When Ron had turned on him too, Harry had never felt so alone before. Hermione's unwavering support did not go unnoticed but his best friend, his first friend, hadn't believed him. The friend who had stood by him even when facing Fluffy, Aragog, the 'Heir of Slytherin' rumours and one of the so-called darkest wizards in the form of Sirius Black had vanished from his life in a split second. All over a scrap of paper.

While they had eventually reconciled, Harry felt that their friendship had now become similar to walking on eggshells. One wrong word and it would all break down again. That, however, was in the past and Harry had to concentrate on the task at hand. Pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind, he ran to where the other champions stood, clearly awaiting his arrival.

"I'm here.." he gasped for breath, "so sorry I'm late."

Cedric looked at him and smiled encouragingly, albeit one that felt a little forced. Krum stared straight ahead, his jaw clenching unnaturally. Fleur Delacour rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed with Harry's inability to manage time. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Moody all stood nearby, watching on with expressions of humoured interest, concern and apathy respectively.

"Not to worry Mr Potter." Said Ludo Bagman, a comically fake smile plastered across his face as he looked at Harry,, "Sonourous." Muttered the retired Quidditch player. His voice now boomed across the lake. "Thank you for your patience! All four champions are now present. They have one hour to recover what was taken from them." Following this sentence, Bagman made an obnoxious noise imitating a ghostly wail. "If anyone returns empty handed… well." Bagman cleared his throat. Not wanting to linger on this obscure statement, Bagman turned to Barty Crouch. Ever the professional, the Ministry official stepped forwards. "Champions! Prepare yourselves. On the fire of the cannon you may begin."

The four contestants edged towards the water. Harry pulled off his jacket, revealing the black and red swimming vest with a golden four on the back. Seamus Finnigan wolf whistled, prompting a rude hand gesture from Harry which Professor McGonagall scolded him for. The icy wind whipped at his skin which caused an outbreak of goosebumps on his arms. Harry shivered, a combination of the cold and the nerves that coursed through his veins. Reaching into his pocket, Harry pulled out the magical herb that, if all went to plan, would keep him alive. Staring at it, Harry's heart sank. It wasn't doing anything that could be classified as particularly magical. It lay limp in his hand.

"You have to eat that, Potter." Hissed Professor Moody from behind him. Harry took the Gillyweed and, with a self-assuring nod, popped it into his mouth. He bit down and chewed on the plant. It was slimy, like a mussel, and tasted a little like courgette, but he managed to get it down. The starting canon fired.

Amid a thunderous applause, three champions leaped into the lake, while Harry required a hefty shove from Moody. He fell into the icy water, clutching his neck. He shook around in the water, the effects of the Gillyweed making him feel incredibly uncomfortable. He was sure he was drowning, he couldn't breathe, his vision was blurry. But then he felt something on the side of his neck. He had gills. Fighting his every instinct, Harry breathed in. Sucking in oxygen from the water around him, his vision began to clear.

With his head no longer spinning, he looked at his hands and feet, they were webbed. Harry couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. He could swim with little to no effort. Wanting to try out his new swimming skill, Harry shot upwards. Breaking the surface, he performed a somersault before falling back into the water, something which greatly entertained his peers.

Worried that he was wasting his hour with tricks for the crowd, Harry dived deeper into the water. He stuck close to the bottom of the lake, watching the light from above weaken as it failed to penetrate the depths. With the visibility diminishing, Harry was wary, his wand close by. Despite his vastly improved swimming ability, he couldn't afford to let his guard down. A visit from a pack of muskrill wouldn't be very welcome at the current moment. A shoal of fish skimmed past his head, making Harry jump. He gripped his wand tighter and powered on further through the lake.

The next twenty minutes or so were completely fruitless. He'd accidentally wandered over to the far side of the Black Lake which had turned out to be completely barren, not ideal for finding something stolen from him. Not knowing what he was supposed to be looking for didn't help either. Harry was frustrated with himself. If he had listened to Hermione and worked out the clue earlier, maybe he would have had a better plan for the task. Pausing for a moment, Harry floated in the water, an eerie silence enveloping him. His head flicked side to side, desperately looking for something that could point him in the right direction.

Fortunately, that thing found him first. Hearing a ghostly pop, Harry spun round to find Moaning Myrtle sitting on a pipe. "Myrtle." He said but all that came out was bubbles. She giggled.

"Oh hello Harry. Lost are we?" Asked the ghost. Harry nodded and shrugged, gesturing his puzzlement. He pointed in various directions with a quizzical look.

"I shouldn't really be giving anyone help, but… I'd try going that way." Said Myrtle, in response to his crude sign language. Harry gave her a thumbs up and a massive grin before setting off in the direction she'd suggested.

Fleur Delacour was not having a great time at Hogwarts so far. Not only did she have to endure three times the amount of stares she got, she'd had to battle a dragon and now rescue her sister from the bottom of a lake.

The relentless staring was nothing new. Being part Veela, her natural allure was powerful enough to make men stare absentmindedly and to make girls angry at her for the opposite gender's attraction, particularly when it was their boyfriends. Fleur wanted to constantly shout at every jealous girl she encountered. Teenage girls were so infuriating. Fleur couldn't even begin to comprehend why they were jealous of her. Why someone would want to be ogled like a piece of meat baffled her.

Years of this sort of treatment had taught Fleur how to master the perfect outer image. She had managed to craft a reputation of being completely unapproachable to anyone through a combination of faux apathy, snobbery and appearing mean-spirited.

This unfortunately meant she was dreadfully lonely.

Apart from her family, Fleur had often struggled to make friends at Beauxbatons. The first few years had been fine but as soon as everyone in her year had started to reach puberty the isolation and ostracization began. Teenage girls didn't particularly like it when their boyfriends' gaze couldn't be dragged away from someone other than them and likewise teenage boys preferred to make unintelligible noises rather than words when talking to her.

And now it was even more insufferable due to her name being picked by the Goblet of Fire. She didn't want more money or power; her father had held a strong position in the French Ministry for a number of years and their family's wealth was nothing to frown at. By becoming the Beauxbatons champion she was distanced even further from her peers, who now saw her life as something out of a fairytale. She scoffed, which turned out to be quite difficult to do underwater, if only they could see her now.

Fleur powered through the weeds, towards the place where Gabrielle would hopefully be. Her little sister was the only thing that kept her going. Gabrielle's constant positive attitude had always inspired Fleur, and it was this attitude that was giving her the desire to win. To show that she was worthy to her peers but also to make Maman and Papa proud.

Fleur was getting closer; she could feel her sister nearby. Her Bubblehead charm was working well, something she was immensely grateful for. Being part Veela, creatures more attuned to the air, deep, murky water wasn't something that Fleur had particularly looked forward to. Obviously, she had swam before and enjoyed the sea back at her home. But there was a stark difference between swimming in the sea with no pressure to save someone and where she was currently. What little light that was coming from the surface cast looming shadows through the green gloom, which caused Fleur to double and triple check she wasn't being followed by anything. An encounter with the rumoured giant squid was certainly not on her to do list.

Fleur made her way into a grassy plateau under the water. She ran her hand through the weeds, they were soft and it reminded her of her sister's hair. The thought of losing Gabrielle only fuelled Fleur's energy. She kicked harder to glide through the water, she would not fail her sister. Gabrielle had always relentlessly been there for Fleur. Their sisterly bond went deeper than a lot of other siblings' relationships.

Peering through the water, a large stone monument came into view. There were four floating figures tied to the structure: Gabrielle, a dark-haired girl, the bushy haired girl Fleur often saw with Harry Potter and a red headed boy. She remembered the red head as someone who was particularly affected by her allure.

Suddenly she felt something swim past her leg, very quickly. Fleur turned in the water but saw nothing. All of a sudden, the French Champion felt lots of small hands pulling her down. Grindylows. There were a bunch of them, all dragging at her legs. She pulled out her wand and shouted out an incantation. It had little effect. The water had greatly diminished her magic. The spell, which had manifested itself as a jet of hot water struck one of the water demons square in the middle. It squirmed a little but laughed at the sensation. Not the reaction Fleur had hoped for.

She continued to fire off weak spells at the creatures attempting to surround her. Panic began to set in. There were simply too many to deal with at once. Fleur was sinking, the surface getting further and further away. She had failed. Not only herself but her family too. That's what was crushing her, not the pressure of the water.

A rogue Grindylow snatched her wand out her hand and attempted to make off with it. The creature was stopped in its tracks by another, more powerful, blast of boiling water. It dropped the wand and swam away. Fleur watched her wand being summoned to none other than Harry Potter. He shouted incantations that Fleur could not hear and one by one the Grindylows let go of her.

What little confidence she'd had an hour ago had quickly vanished and Fleur swam quickly towards the surface. Without her wand her charm was expiring and she had to get out of the lake. She was frightened and shaken by the encounter with the water demons. Fleur felt awful leaving Gabrielle down in the depths of the lake, but for some strange reason trusted that she would be okay. Perhaps it had been her raven-haired rescuer that gave her the sense of relief. However, it was quickly replaced with dread as she realised what had just occurred and what the consequences would be.

Fleur looked back at Harry's disappearing form and saw a mild golden sheen covering his body. Her features cast a similar glow through the water before vanishing. She turned and swam upwards, hoping that if she swam fast enough, she would be able to escape what she knew was to come next.

Fuelled by the adrenaline pumping through his veins, Harry failed to notice the glow around him instead focused on how best to rescue those tied up. Harry swam over to the stone structure, both his wand and Fleur's still clutched in his hand. Her sudden dart to the surface hadn't given him any time to return it. He put it down to the panic of the last few moments. Harry knew all too well the reactions one could have when faced with danger. One part of him wanted to follow her, run away from this godforsaken tournament and find somewhere nice to hide from the world. However, a louder part of his mind brought him back to what he had to do first.

Harry shot forwards through the water towards the hostages. He saw their pale ghostly faces as he got closer. Ron let out a few bubbles from his mouth. He recognised Hermione and Cho tethered to the bottom. Harry's reflexes kicked in as a large shark shot past him, headed in Hermione's direction. Harry darted forwards in the water, wand at the ready, to try and intercept the attack. Noticing the legs in place of a large tail, he stopped in his tracks. It was Krum. He had tried to transfigure himself. It had only half worked, creating a strange mismatch of parts. His pale legs propelled him towards his hostage, snapping at the ropes that prevented her from floating to the surface. His hostage secured, Krum shot upwards towards the surface of the lake. Harry watched him go before he approached the nearest merperson and tried to negotiate with them for their large trident.

"We do not help." Sneered the water dweller. It stared sullenly at the boy in front of him for a moment before darting off into the murk. Harry swore after him in frustration, coming out in another flurry of bubbles. The Champion swam down to the lakebed. Grabbing a sharp stone, Harry started to hack at Ron's ropes. It was hard work, and he only stopped when Cedric arrived to free Cho. The older boy tapped his watch. Harry nodded in understanding. He had to get a move on.

After five minutes, Ron was free. Harry looked around for Fleur but saw no sign of her. Cedric's warning at the forefront of his mind, Harry had little time to waste. He swam over to her sister, evident by the large cloud of golden hair, and began to get her free. Harry glanced around for the merpeople, he knew they would try to stop him.

Finally, after a few agonising minutes she was free. Ron had started to float upwards the surface. Harry grabbed Fleur's sister and swam towards his best friend. Wrapping one arm around each hostage he kicked as hard as he could towards the surface. His hour was running out. Arms starting to ache, Harry could feel his strength draining. His hands were no longer webbed and his feet had changed from fins back to toes. Still, he powered on.

Gritting his teeth, Harry pushed Ron and the young girl upwards, and they broke the surface. As soon as the two of them burst out of the water the enchantment broke. Ron gasped for breath, an expression of shock plastered all over his face, before helping Fleur's sister towards the platform where the older Beauxbatons student was waiting, clearly concerned. In comparison to the gangly redheaded fourth year, she did really look rather small. Beneath the water, Harry could feel himself sinking. He had nothing left to give, he was going to die under the lake. Harry summoned his last bit of strength and raised his wand.

"Ascendio!" He yelled. Harry felt his body fly upwards, out of the icy water and onto the platform. He coughed and spluttered as the crowd cheered. Seamus and Dean surrounded him in warm towels, clapping him on the back. Neville was beaming, as was Hermione. She swooped in on him, wrapping him in a bone crushing hug.

"Oh Harry you were brilliant!" She kissed the top of his head. Harry grimaced, not as confident as her in his performance.

"Pretty sure I was last Hermione."

She shook her head. "Third. Fleur couldn't get past the Grindylows."

Harry nodded at her, acting as though he hadn't come to the French witch's rescue. Standing up straight, he saw Fleur coming towards him, her sister in tow. Evidently she didn't want to leave her alone ever again. Her eyes shimmered, tears threatening to fall. Harry wondered if there was anything in the rules about the mental stress the Tournament was allowed to cause the contestants.

"You saved 'er. Even though she was not yours to save. Thank you!" She swooped down on him and planted two kisses on each cheek. She started away from Harry, before being stopped by his voice.

"Wait, Fleur I have your-"

Words failed him, his vision clouded over and the world around him went dark. Fleur's wand still clutched in his hand, Harry passed out.