I'm sorry I didn't update over the weekend. I hadn't finished the chapter yet, and truthfully I don't know how much I really like this one. There's nothing really to say when the next two tasks are genuinely just students sitting in the stands and waiting for hours. Big boring. And, you know, I just haven't been feeling myself lately. It's been a rough few weeks. I apologize that this isn't really up to my usual standard, but I did what I could for the moment.
Bookcozy: Thank you for reviewing! Last chapter was so much fun to write. And Lee is just a funny guy.
Gi-L-Ha: I'm sorry I didn't update over the weekend, but I appreciate the review! If I can get myself together, I'm hoping to have next chapter up on time.
Chapter Thirty Five
Nessa walked into the Potions classroom the next morning without even bothering to ask if Snape needed her help with anything.
She wasn't sure how to bring up wanting to do inventory for him — so soon after someone had broken in — and she figured that taking him by surprise would be her best option. Of course, the alternative was that he became so annoyed by her presence that he refused outright.
He was particular about his potions stores, and she knew that. Playing the entire thing off casually was her better option, even if she happened to be the worst liar known to man. At least according to Fred and George, who were, thankfully, on better terms now. It was a relief to both her and Lee, but she hadn't the time to figure out how it had all happened. She'd been too busy trying to scarf down her breakfast so that she could get to the Potions classroom.
It was a Saturday at least, and she was sure that Snape would not have had the time to have gone over everything on Friday with classes being in session. He may have stayed up late in the evening to do it, she supposed, but she sincerely hoped not. If he'd already done it, he certainly wouldn't need her to, and she was too nosey at this point not to know.
There was a sweeping relief when she walked into the classroom and could hear him rustling around in his stores, the only light in the room coming from the direction of the closet in the back. The classroom was otherwise silent and cold as always, and she tangled her fingers in the sleeve of George's old Christmas sweater, and made her way to the doorway to the stores.
She raised an eyebrow as she got closer and could hear his muttered swearing. He was particularly bad-tempered in most cases, but she hadn't normally known him to swear so viciously. She paused in the doorway, looking up at him as he stood carefully on the ladder that reached the highest shelving units, holding a clipboard and quill in one of his hands.
"What do you need, Potter?"
She tried not to roll her eyes. He was clearly feeling more foul than he did normally because his tone was sharp and impatient, something which it typically was not when he spoke to her.
"I was coming to see if you needed help with inventory," she said calmly.
The older man stopped and looked down at her over his hooked nose, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"Why would you think that I need inventory done?" he sneered. "You just did it several months ago. Unless, perhaps, your brother —"
"I don't think insulting my brother is your best option here considering I'm here of my own free will," she snapped immediately before he could finish. She was careful to keep her face otherwise blank in an attempt to not let him see that her brother actually was the reason she was standing in front of him. That and her inability to mind her own business. "I heard Professor Moody talking to Filch about your classroom being broken into, and I assumed you'd be doing inventory today."
Snape growled.
"I told that fool caretaker not to speak of it," he said in irritation before he glared at her. "No one broke in. It was a mistake."
She raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief.
"Clearly," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because you always do inventory on a Saturday morning instead of enjoying the day."
"You are wasting my precious time, Potter —"
She snorted derisively and gave him a pointed look.
"And you're wasting mine," she said, ignoring the way his lip curled in distaste at her disobedience. "This argument is ridiculous. If you don't want help because you're too busy nursing your pride that someone broke in here and you'd prefer to spend the next few hours hand-counting all of your ingredients then so be it. For someone who has so much precious time they don't want to waste, it seems a bit tedious to me, but by all means, Professor…enjoy your Saturday."
She was nearly out of the cupboard when he spoke again.
"You are as simply dramatic as your father," he snarled, climbing down the ladder. "You don't follow direction and you think you're always right, don't —"
She hid her smirk as she turned around and raised an eyebrow, holding her hand out for the clipboard expectantly.
"Insult my family another time," she said, wiggling her fingers impatiently. "I've got far better things to be doing than listening to that. And, as you've already said, so do you."
She knew he didn't take kindly to someone calling his bluffs. His pride was ever present, and while she found it horribly annoying, they both knew he didn't want to be in here counting all of his ingredients. Just as they both knew he couldn't pretend like someone hadn't broken in. He was as anal-retentive as she was, and he would need to know desperately if anything had been taken.
She was relying on his anal-retentive nature to outweigh his pride — it often did for her as well — and she didn't imagine he'd have climbed down the ladder unless he intended to give in anyway.
"And why, pray tell, would you be offering to do inventory on a Saturday morning?" he said slowly. "For someone who seems intent that I have better things to be doing on a precious weekend, I would imagine the same for you. You have nothing better to be doing, Potter?"
"Other than listening to Fred and George argue with each other while Tori throws a fit?" she drawled, wiggling her fingers again. "Not particularly. I could use a break from their whining. Now do you want my help or not?"
He stared at her for a longer moment before he reluctantly handed over the clipboard and quill.
"You should consider finding better friends," he said, brushing past her.
"That's very sweet, Professor," she said sweetly. "I'll keep that in mind."
He made a noise of derision, but left her in the cupboard and she relaxed immediately. She'd counted on his displeasure with the task to swing in her favor, but she hadn't been sure that he'd trust her to count the ingredients when he suspected that Harry had been the one to break in. His partiality toward her would have gone in her favor as well, but considering his only true fondness came from his Potions stores, she'd definitely expected that she'd have to sneak back into the classroom and do the entire thing incognito.
She'd gotten lucky as far as she was concerned. Or maybe he really just hated doing inventory so much that he didn't care that she wanted to count the ingredients.
It certainly wasn't her favorite task to complete, particularly on a Saturday, though she comforted herself with the reminder that it was still cold and gray outside. She had nothing to miss by being stuck in this cupboard, other than her pressing Transfiguration essay, which she'd put off far too long.
She was doing better in the class at least. George was spending an ungodly amount of time explaining the theory to her in an attempt to calm her nerves about the upcoming O.W.L.s. She spent most of her time panicking about Harry's upcoming trials, but every passing day was also a reminder that her exams were coming up as well. She couldn't afford to fail them, and she sincerely wished that she was better at Transfiguration, but according to McGonagall, she was floating on the higher end of Acceptable.
Still not enough, but far better than she had been before.
Sighing heavily and shaking her head to dislodge her thoughts, she ran her eyes over the list in front of her. He kept meticulous records of the things he kept in his stores. She'd seen him counting ingredients after every class to update the amounts before he put them away, and he had rows and rows of numbers with the dates he'd last counted them.
Full inventory had last been done by her earlier in the year with Fred and George, so she hoped that no one had been in here since then other than the students who were doing coursework. Knowing Fred and George, it might have been fanciful, but she started the counting anyway.
It would take her hours, she knew, but Snape did not believe in shortcuts when it came to Potions. Or at least that's what he told them when they were making potions in class because she'd seen him take several outside of classroom hours. At any rate, it meant that he didn't like using an inventory stocking spell. They weren't always correct and because Fred and George were so often trying to steal his ingredients, he tended not to trust that they hadn't worked out a way to trick the spell counting.
Perhaps she really should be harsher with them because going one by one was horrible. Things she could weigh weren't so bad, but when she was sitting here counting out dead spiders, she wanted to cry. They were just as horribly disgusting dead as they were alive, and she didn't care what anyone said.
It was nearly lunch by the time that she picked up the last vial, counted out the boomslang skin and was able to finish with a sigh of relief.
It didn't last long.
She blinked at the numbers for the last ingredient she'd counted several times as if she wasn't sure what she was seeing. Maybe she'd counted it wrong?
She grabbed the vial again and started counting, one by one. She counted it another three times just to be sure.
Ten. He had ten.
Except the last time she'd counted he'd had eleven.
Of course, it could have been that he'd used them to teach his N.E.W.T. students and had forgotten to update it, but she found that incredibly unlikely.
And she knew of only two potions that used Boomslang skin. A beautification potion (which was extremely unlikely that Crouch would use unless he suddenly cared about his looks more than his job, which she found unlikely) and a Polyjuice Potion (which was worse to think about).
More obvious implications but what purpose would Crouch have in making a Polyjuice potion? Who was he trying to turn into? And why would he need to come to Hogwarts in order to get the ingredients for it when he could get the ingredients in Diagon Alley?
What the hell was going on in this place?
Maybe Snape would know except she couldn't tell him that she knew who had broken in without admitting that Harry had seen it on the map. Which seemed a very poor idea when Snape already had it out for him to begin with.
Sighing heavily, she set the vial back down and allowed her racing thoughts to distract her as she made her way back toward the exit.
She was so distracted by her thoughts that she almost didn't notice the hushed voices. She stopped just before the doorway, leaning forward to see if she could hear who Snape was talking to.
" — there is no evidence that he is back, Igor," Snape was saying coldly, his voice low as if he were afraid she might overhear.
"You know as well as I that he would not make himself known unless —"
"This conversation is becoming boring," Snape snapped. "If you so believe that you are in danger then perhaps you should be fleeing as you have been threatening to do."
"You cannot ignore the signs, Severus!" Karkaroff sounded desperate and angry, a dangerous combination if Nessa had ever known one. "It becomes darker and darker by the day —"
"Keep your voice down, Igor," Snape hissed. "The last thing I need is you alerting half the school about your ridiculous paranoia —"
"You are a fool if you do not recognize this for what it is!" Karkaroff said loudly. "You must —"
Nessa wasn't fond of it, but he'd spoken so loudly that she couldn't avoid coming out of the store room and clearing her throat pointedly. If she hadn't, she was sure Snape would have known she'd been eavesdropping — the man wasn't stupid — and she knew he wouldn't answer any questions she had. And she had quite a few.
Karkaroff looked flabbergasted at her presence, looking between her and Snape awkwardly.
"Well?" Snape demanded, not even bothering to give Karkaroff the light of day.
She raised a condescending eyebrow, but didn't bother asking what the problem was between him and the Durmstrang Headmaster. He was not the only one of them who had intelligence.
"Boomslang skin," she said, walking forward to hand him the clipboard.
He stared at her for a moment, his eyes twinkling.
"So it was your brother —"
She was immediately irritated.
"Harry has nothing to do with this," she snapped.
"You have no possible way of knowing that unless you are suggesting that you can keep your eye on him at every second, Miss Potter."
"You have no evidence to support your claim unless you are suggesting that you saw Harry that night, Professor Snape."
They glared at each other for a long moment.
"Your brother has made Polyjuice potion before —"
"My brother couldn't tell you a Polyjuice potion from a Boil Cure potion, and you know it," she said, rolling her eyes. "Hermione Granger made that and I'd like to remind you that it was only because he was doing what the rest of you apparently could not, and stopping Slytherin's monster —"
"We didn't know where the Chamber was —"
"Neither did he," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Odd that a twelve year old could figure it out when wizards twice his age could not."
Snape sneered at her.
"You are foolishly loyal to him —"
"You're right," she snapped. "So find someone else to blame this on. He has far other things to be worried about at the moment than brewing a Polyjuice potion. The second task is coming —"
"How did he get into the tournament?"
Karkaroff's question caused them to look away from each other immediately. He looked just as angry about the idea that Harry was a champion now as he had on Halloween. It annoyed her, and she had not forgotten — or forgiven — his attitude toward her brother on that night. She didn't like him much to begin with because he seemed fake to her, always willing to say what he needed to depending on who was in the room with him. She wasn't fond of that.
"He didn't," she said. "He already told you that."
"He is clearly lying —"
"He isn't, but I'd think you'd show less concern considering that you don't believe he will succeed your champion anyway," she said smoothly. "Unless you gave Harry a four for any reason other than your own bias?"
He sneered at her, but Snape spoke before she could further irritate him.
"Is that all that was stolen, Miss Potter?" She gave Karkaroff a withering look before she looked back at her professor and nodded. "Leave us then."
She rolled her eyes, and muttered, "Fleeing would be doing the world a favor." She was certain they both heard it because Snape coughed and Karkaroff snarled at her, but she didn't bother saying anything else to either of them as she made her way out.
She had far better things to be doing than having the same old argument with Karkaroff. His opinion wouldn't change, and, even if she didn't think that he was the one who had entered Harry's name, she didn't like him. That wouldn't change by giving him the opportunity to piss her off.
She walked aimlessly back to the common room instead, letting her thoughts carry her down the familiar route.
Boomslang skin. Maybe there was a potion she didn't know that used it? She didn't know everything. She wasn't Hermione. But asking Hermione would mean telling Harry and she wasn't sure that that was the best thing to do yet. He'd probably think that Karkaroff was Crouch and she…well, she didn't have a response for that, did she?
With Polyjuice Potion he could be anyone and she'd have no way of knowing. Of course, she could argue that their suspicion of Karkaroff was misplaced if they assumed Crouch was him. Karkaroff himself had been a Death Eater, so if he wasn't really Karkaroff then it stood to reason, it still wasn't him.
Except that was less likely. Karkaroff and Crouch had been in the same room that evening that Harry's name had come out of the goblet. Unless Crouch had not taken his identity until afterward? Seemed unlikely — too many eyes on the grounds and he would have had to overpower him here if that were the case.
So who did that leave her with? Literally anyone in the world.
Or at least someone on the Hogwarts grounds. Because what other reason would he have to be on the grounds for the ingredients — on a night when there had been no tasks — unless he were impersonating someone on the grounds? She didn't like that thought. But there were so many fresh people on the grounds at all times. Bagman was clearly remaining close since they'd seen him in Hogsmeade, all of the other students from France and wherever Durmstrang was. Two additional Headmasters. A new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. She had no way of knowing who could be who because she didn't know any of these people well enough to be able to tell the difference between their normal behaviors.
That helped not at all.
And what in the hell was Karkaroff so afraid of? The same thing she was? He'd been a previous Death Eater and had been afraid that "he" was gaining power. He as in Voldemort…But what would Snape have to do with that? Unless he was just confiding in someone he knew was close with Dumbledore — the only person Voldemort had ever been afraid of. He and Snape were clearly friends or had been before — she wouldn't have talked to someone in that tone unless she knew them fairly well.
The fact that Snape would be friends with a Death Eater was a question and concern for another time. She didn't even want to know what circumstances would lead Snape to being friends with someone like Karkaroff and she was sure she wouldn't like it.
Why was her life so complicated? And what in the hell was going on in this place?
It was too much to ask that Nessa have any idea how to help her brother for the second task. Her anxiety came back full force as February dragged on, and it was clear that everything she'd ever learned had fallen completely out of her head.
Well, not completely true. She remembered a great deal of it, but after Harry's disastrous attempts at learning the Conjunctivitis Curse, she wasn't at all sure that he could manage the only spells that would allow him the ability to breathe underwater.
Human transfiguration was completely out of the question. They didn't learn that until sixth year and it wasn't something she was excited about doing herself — there was no chance that he could manage that. A Bubble-Head charm could have worked, but she had no hope that he'd manage to learn it in time. It was also a sixth-year level spell, and was one she had yet to master herself. The Conjunctivitis Curse had been an eye-opener in terms of what her brother could accomplish magically. He managed fine in his day to day classes, but his knowledge in charms needed to build before she could manage that.
Ron quite liked the idea of using Aqua-Lungs. Harry had explained how they worked and Ron figured they could use a Summoning Charm to get one from the nearest Muggle town, but Nessa and Hermione had shut that down. For one thing, how in the hell did a person use a set of Aqua-Lungs? Because she sure as hell didn't know how, and it likely wasn't totally intuitive.
Hermione's reason had been far better though. There was no chance that a Muggle would not see a pair of Aqua-Lungs flying across the country and the judges likely wouldn't appreciate Harry violating the Code of Wizarding Secrecy.
Nessa might have considered that if she gave a rat's arse about it. As far as she was concerned, she didn't care as long as Harry came out alive.
Familiar flutterings of panic were beginning in her stomach and chest, and she was genuinely considering killing her brother for waiting so long to figure out what the second task was. She was pissed at herself as well — she was trying to be a better person by not allowing herself to be so controlling of the lives of people around her, but now look at her: buried in dusty tomes in the library with her brother in an attempt to figure out what the hell they could manage — that he was capable of doing — that would allow him the ability to breathe underwater.
And what was the point anyway? Why did wizards have to do things that were wildly ridiculous? What was wrong with swimming and holding their breath until they had to come up for water?
It was ridiculous the things they tried to do in this world. Entirely stupid.
"Anything?" Harry said desperately.
She slammed the book on Water Charms closed in irritation.
"No," she snapped. "Unless you'd like to know the number of microorganisms in the lake, which I assure you, we're likely better off not knowing."
Harry grabbed at his hair in frustration, and she didn't even bother forcing him to stop. It was his fault they were in this mess to begin with. The first task hadn't been his fault, but they'd given him a shot at this one and now they were at the night before the second task, and she was panicking again.
Full-blown, near spasms, definitely going to throw up levels of panicking.
She didn't know why. If they didn't find anything, it wasn't like Harry was going to drown himself on purpose. He just wouldn't do it, but it was so unbelievably irrational at this point. She had zero control.
"I don't reckon it can be done," Ron said flatly from the other side of the table. "There's nothing. Nothing. Closest was the thing to dry up puddles and ponds, that Drought Charm, but it's nowhere near powerful enough to drain the lake."
"There must be something," Hermione muttered, moving a candle closer to her. Her eyes had been glued to an ancient text that was written in the tiniest print Nessa had ever seen. It required her nose to be about an inch from the page in order to read. "They'd never have set a task that was undoable."
Truly, Hermione seemed to be taking personal offense to the fact that the library had been unable to help them so far.
"They have," Ron said. "Harry, just go down to the lake tomorrow, right, stick your head in, yell at the merpeople to give back whatever they've nicked, and see if they chuck it out. Best you can do, mate."
"Ron, will you shut up?" Nessa said angrily. He stared at her, wide-eyed, and she grimaced, rubbing at her temples to try and remove some of the tension. "Sorry, I didn't mean — I'm sorry. This is just the stupidest situation I've ever been in."
"I have to be down there tomorrow!" Harry said, panicking. "And we're no closer to figuring this out than we were a week ago."
"Well, if you'd done the egg sooner —"
"I know that, Nessa, I don't need you griping at me!"
Ron looked between the two glaring Potter siblings awkwardly, but Hermione didn't appear to have noticed their tiff at all.
"Is there a potion he can use?" Ron said awkwardly, still looking between them and trying desperately to keep them from hexing each other.
"That I can brew overnight?" Nessa snorted. "No. But there isn't really one anyway. I don't know anything about breathing underwater except that Sprout was telling us about a plant —"
She stopped talking immediately and sat up straighter.
Sprout had been talking about a plant. The week before. What the hell had it been?
"Er, Nessa?" Ron said hesitantly.
"Shut up for once, I'm trying to think," she said, flapping her hands at him impatiently and closing her eyes.
She'd been telling them about a plant. She'd only mentioned it in passing as they weren't set to learn it until the end of the year. What the hell was the name of it?
She couldn't remember. It had been the answer to some question one of the Hufflepuffs had asked her. There was some huge debate about whether the plant worked as well in salt or freshwater. Something about giving someone gills maybe? Allowing them to be able to withstand cold temperatures and removed the need to blink?
But if he had gills, it stood to reason that he could breathe underwater couldn't he? For how long she wasn't entirely certain, so maybe she ought to suggest something else, but…
Gills…gills…
Did it have gills in the name of it? Shit, shit, shit.
"Oh, this is no use," Hermione said, snapping shut Weird Wizarding Dilemmas. "Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?"
"I wouldn't mind," said Fred Weasley's voice. "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?"
They all looked up. Fred and George had just emerged from behind the bookshelves.
"What're you two doing here?" Ron asked.
"Looking for the lovely ladies," George said, winking at Nessa. "McGonagall wants you, love. And you, Hermione."
"Why?" Hermione said, looking at her in surprise.
"Dunno…she was looking a bit grim though," said Fred.
"We're supposed to take you down to her office," said George, offering a hand to Nessa to tug her up from her chair. Nessa hesitated, staring at her brother and Ron, both of whom looked terribly anxious — she and Hermione were far better at research than either of them were and they were running out of time. "C'mon, love, you can't avoid Minnie. You can come back after."
Nessa nodded, trying to let her reasoning skills trump her anxious ones. Except her anxious skills were far better.
"We'll meet you back in the common room," Hermione told Harry as they both came to a stand. "Bring as many of these books as you can."
Nessa hardly talked as they led them upstairs to McGonagall's office. She was trying to remember the stupid plant. She hadn't been paying much attention — she'd been in her own head, trying to think of every spell she'd ever been taught in an attempt to figure out what they could use to help Harry, and she was paying for that now.
What had the damn plant been?
George squeezed her hand when they reached the office and she was scrambling to get her mind to catch up.
"A plant," she said out loud. "There's a plant — maybe — I can't remember the damn plant, George."
He shared a look with Fred.
"Hermione, will you tell them she'll be in in just a second?"
Hermione looked between the three of them but nodded hesitantly before stepping into McGonagall's office.
"What are you on about?" Fred said, raising an eyebrow.
She huffed at him.
"A plant," she said. "Is there a plant that allows you to breathe underwater?"
"Not that I recall," Fred said.
"There is," she said firmly. "There is one. I swear Sprout was asking about it last week —"
"Why does she ask if she already knows the answer, George?" Fred said, looking at his brother in mild annoyance. George snorted, but didn't answer.
"I don't think there is —" he started.
"Gills, George!" she said desperately. "Something with gills —"
"Gillyweed is —"
"Gillyweed!" she said, snapping at him. "Yes, that's the one. He can chew that and breathe underwater, right?"
George was looking off thoughtfully.
"Think so," he said. "Vaguely rings a bell. An hour, maybe?"
"He only needs the hour," she said, waving him away.
"Not to burst your bubble or anything, munchkin, but where is he going to get Gillyweed?" Fred said. "Sprout cultivates all hers —"
"Snape has some," she said. "In his Potions stores, but I can't —"
"Miss Potter, we need you to continue."
McGonagall was standing in the doorway, looking disapproving.
"I'm sorry, I'm coming, just one second." The moment she'd retreated, she turned back to Fred and George. "Snape goes to bed at around eight. The key is under his desk under a disillusionment charm —"
"That'll certainly make it easier to break in, now won't it?" Fred said excitedly to George. "Imagine all the stuff we can nick without having to do those bloody spells —"
"Fred!" Nessa said, stomping her foot.
"Keep your knickers on, we've got it!" he said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and turning to walk away. "I'll go find Tori. How much does he need?"
"I — well I don't know," she admitted. "More is probably better just in case."
She didn't even have the opportunity to thank him because he'd disappeared in search of Tori before she could. She looked back at George anxiously.
"We'll take care of it, love," he said, tilting her chin up to kiss her. "We're good at nicking things, believe it or not." She smiled weakly, and he kissed her forehead. "I'll see you tonight, I assume?"
She nodded, biting her lip.
She'd been too anxious to sleep on her own the night before too, and she didn't imagine that would be much different tonight. It felt a bit worse, actually, but she was sure she didn't need to tell him that.
"Go on then," he said, waving her toward the door. "If she gives you the Prefect of the Year award, just chuck it before you come to bed. It'll give me nightmares."
She snorted and rolled her eyes, slipping into the office before he could say anything ridiculous.
Nessa stopped in surprise. It wasn't just McGonagall in here. No, it was Dumbledore too, and both of them were looking grim. Though McGonagall also appeared disapproving at her coming in late.
"I — sorry, I didn't realize…"
"If you please, Miss Potter," Dumbledore said gently, motioning toward the seat next to Hermione. "We have much to discuss about tomorrow."
She didn't like the sound of that at all, but she took a hesitant seat, sharing a horrified look with Hermione. She didn't think that either McGonagall or Dumbledore was stupid enough to believe that they weren't helping Harry in some capacity, but if they were about to tell them that they couldn't anymore…
But then why wouldn't they have wanted to talk to Ron too?
"I — is this about Harry?" she said hesitantly.
"No, this is more to do with you," Dumbledore said, steepling his hands. "The task tomorrow is to take part in the lake, as I'm sure will be news to the both of you." She and Hermione were careful not to look at each other, but Dumbledore didn't appear concerned. He mostly looked amused. "It is the duty of each champion to go into the lake and take back what has been taken from them by the Merpeople. They have an hour to do so."
"Why are you telling us this?" Nessa said slowly, looking between him and McGonagall. "I thought you weren't supposed to help the champions —"
"We are not, I assure you," Dumbledore said, raising his palms. "We are telling the two of you because you two will be the item that the Merpeople have taken."
There was a long silence in the room, and Nessa felt like she was hallucinating maybe. Surely, he wasn't suggesting that she go down to the lake. She had no interest, particularly in this weather.
"I — I don't understand, sir," Hermione said politely.
Nessa flinched because she probably should have been calling him that to begin with but her mind was muddled.
"Each of the champions will have one person with whom they will rescue, so to speak, from the Merpeople in the lake," Dumbledore explained. "We have tried to find the most important person for each of them within the school. Miss Potter, you are the most obvious choice for Mr. Potter. Miss Granger, you would be Mr. Krum's." Hermione flushed pink, and Nessa tried not to smirk. "Mr. Diggory will rescue Miss Chang, and Miss Delacour's will rescue her own sister. Each of you will be at the bottom of the lake, in an enchanted sleep, until your head breaks the surface of the water."
"There is no danger to either of you," McGonagall added, perhaps sensing Nessa's reluctance. "The charm will keep you in a sleeping state — it will feel no different than any regular sleep you might have. We will put you to sleep this evening and the Merpeople will carry you down to the lake. You are at no risk of being harmed in any way."
"It's winter," Nessa said bluntly.
"Astutely observed, Miss Potter," Dumbledore said in amusement. "We will place additional charms to avoid hypothermia. As I'm sure you understand, you will not be able to go back to your common rooms this evening. The champions are not allowed to know what they are saving, and you will, of course, likely prefer to get some rest for the evening."
Nessa had no idea what to say to that. They were telling her she was going to be sleeping under the lake for the evening with God only knew what, and he was worried about her getting in her eight hours?
Maybe she'd lost it. Maybe she'd had so much anxiety that her brain had fractured.
"Well, they — they have an hour, sir," Hermione said. "If they don't get to us, will you be coming down to get us?"
"I am good friends with the Mer-People in this lake," he answered calmly. "Should the time expire before the champion has reached you then they will bring you back to the surface at the end of the task."
Nessa had assumed as much, unless the school wanted to be calling parents with apologies for their dead children at the bottom of the lake. Though the Dursleys wouldn't have cared — Petunia might have cried tears of joy.
Suddenly, Nessa did not like the lake at all. She found water to be very relaxing normally — the sound as it hit the shore, the smell of saltwater, the silence that permeated in those areas when there were no people around. Now, at the prospect of being down there with absolutely no way of knowing what was happening around her, she didn't like it at all.
How deep was the lake? What was in it? How cold was it? Why couldn't the insanity that Harry attracted stick to keeping her on dry land?
"We must do this quickly," Dumbledore said, checking his watch and speaking to McGonagall. "While all the students are heading to bed."
Nessa did not like this at all. But did she really have a choice here? It didn't seem like it, and, really, what was the worst that could happen?
It was the last thought she'd had before Dumbledore tapped her on the head with his wand, and everything went dark.
The fact that Nessa hadn't come to his dorm the night before was really not enough to worry him. She was anxious, he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd chosen to stay with Harry.
But it certainly should have caused him more concern than he'd originally had when he'd woken up and realized she wasn't there. But he wasn't the worrying type and she was all over the place in the last few days leading up to the second task.
Harry had put the entire thing off too long, and that hadn't helped her anxiety. The only thing that he and Fred could think to do was a Bubble Head Charm, which they'd all agreed he wouldn't manage to learn in time. She hadn't been happy about that, but logically speaking, it had taken him days to learn a simple Summoning Charm, which was a fourth-year spell. It was too much to think he could learn a spell that wasn't taught until sixth year.
She'd been in the library most of the last few weeks trying to find something else, something easier, and, though they'd tried to help as much as possible, they'd gotten nowhere. The fact that she'd remembered Gillyweed at the last minute last night had been a miracle in his opinion.
Course, she had a harder time remembering things when she was so deep in her anxiety, so maybe it really wasn't.
At any rate, he, Fred, and Tori had followed her direction and broken into Snape's stores for Gillyweed. With the key, it had been much easier and they'd been careful to put it back exactly as they'd found it so that he didn't think Nessa had been the one to steal anything. Though he suspected that Snape would eventually suspect anyway when Harry ate the weed and then realized some of it was missing from his office. He wasn't an idiot.
Though Harry had been relieved when they'd handed it to him the evening before and told him what it was for, it shouldn't have been surprising that Nessa would still be anxious. They were fairly sure it lasted at least an hour, and they'd grabbed extra to be safe, but not having a solid answer was the sort of thing that would make her anxious regardless. She had to have answers, and even then, it was iffy.
So, no, he hadn't been anxious when he'd woken up and she hadn't been there. He'd merely gone about his morning routine and gone down to breakfast as if it were any other day.
The fact that she wasn't down at breakfast was not odd either. Oversleeping was the least of her concerns at the moment. Truthfully, he sort of hoped she slept through the task entirely and could wake up with Harry totally safe and sound in the common room.
No, the moment the worry set in was when Tori came down from breakfast and frowned at him.
"Where is Nessa?"
He raised his eyebrows at her, buttering a piece of toast.
"I assume still sleeping in her dorm —"
"Do you think I'm stupid, George?" She snapped anxiously. "If she were up there, I wouldn't be asking you that. I thought she was with you."
That was the moment he started to worry. Although, likely not as much as he should have. The task was still an hour out. She could have gotten up early and been with Harry —
"And Harry hasn't seen her since you took her to McGonagall's office last night."
Okay, well that had been shot to hell fairly quickly.
"She can't have disappeared on the grounds," Fred said calmly. "She's unpredictable when she's anxious like this. She could just be on a run or in the library."
Tori gave him an irritated look.
"Tell me where she is then," she said, looking around anxiously. "You know as well as I do that she wouldn't be able to sleep through this, and I don't think she could run through it either."
No, she wouldn't have, but what were the other options? This was Hogwarts, for fuck's sake. It wasn't like she could be hiding in a whole lot of places. And it was unlikely that she was in any real danger, wasn't it? Not here.
Course, he thought that knowing that plenty of things had happened within these walls that should not have.
"Look, we'll look for her before the task, alright?" Fred said, still sounding extremely doubtful that Nessa was doing nothing more than working off some of her anxiety. "We can worry once we need to."
So they did — search for her, that was. They'd searched for the entire hour in all of the places that she might typically hide and she was nowhere. He was trying not to be concerned, but the only way that Nessa would miss an event like this was if she were grievously injured or dead, so that really didn't help to think about.
Nor did Tori's anxious twitching. She wasn't prone to this level of anxiety, but she knew Nessa even better than he did and the fact that she was so concerned only made the entire thing worse for him. He tried not to let her fidgeting and nail-biting distract him, but it was no use.
The only one of them that was calm was Fred, and even he was starting to look a bit skeptical.
"Let's check the task," he said, still sounding calm despite the growing concern of his girlfriend and twin. "We might have just missed her."
There were a few stragglers leaving the Great Hall, and toward the bright, chilly grounds. The stands that had once circled the dragon enclosure were now rangled on one of the banks and packed to bursting. The excited babble of the crowd echoed over the water as they climbed the stands, forced to sit in the back this time due to their tardiness.
Nessa was nowhere to be seen. She would have been front and center and they couldn't see her all along the stands. Harry came pelting across the grounds not long after, running toward the judges table where the other champions stood. And, still, Nessa was not with him.
"What the hell is going on?" Tori said, looking at Fred in a panic. "Where is she?"
"Tori —"
"Don't you Tori me!" she said, poking him hard in the chest. It was of some relief to George that despite their relationship, nothing was really all that different between the two of them. "You said that she would be on the grounds somewhere! Well unless she's decided she doesn't care about Harry anymore then —"
"She's a grown woman," Fred said, rolling his eyes despite the tension lining his shoulders. George was not stupid — his brother was as concerned as they were; he was simply better at hiding it. "She could have lost track of time."
Tori gave him a blank look.
"Do you really believe that?"
"No," he replied bluntly, looking across the lake. "But it's not as if — oh, bloody hell, Percy is here again."
Tori stomped her foot in frustration.
"I don't care about Percy!"she said loudly. "We can push him in the lake afterward. Where the hell is Nessa?"
Neither of them had the opportunity to respond because Bagman's magically modified voice broke out over the crowd.
"Well, all the champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle," he was saying. "They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three then. One…two…three…"
The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold and the champions, who had been spaced an even ten feet apart began immediately. The stands erupted in cheers and applause, but George barely noticed anything when his eyes were scanning the stands row by row.
He wished he could have been concerned with Krum's shoddy transfiguration skills or Cedric's perfectly executed Bubble Head Charm. He wished he cared at all as Harry shoved the Gillyweed into his mouth and started the sludgy trek into the lake amid laughter. Nessa would have preferred that he cared about that last bit, but he was too wrapped up in wondering what could have happened to her to get her to skip the task.
The task was stupid anyway — there was nothing to watch when all of the champions couldn't be seen underneath the water. They just stood around, chattering excitedly about who would win and who would come in last. Most thought Harry, as he'd taken so long to get into the water waiting for the gills to develop.
They'd been wrong. Fleur had been first, being dragged out of the water in shrieking tears by Madame Maxime.
George didn't know what the hell was worth crying about and didn't particularly care about that either. He didn't bother voicing the anxiety aloud to his twin and Tori either. He just kept scanning the crowd, hoping to find a shock of auburn hair that he'd missed the last twenty times he'd tried to find her.
He had no idea how long it took, but he was convinced he was going half mad.
She wouldn't have missed this — of that, he was entirely certain, and he didn't care who won the task. He was going to have to go and find her before he convinced himself that she'd taken a dive off the Astronomy Tower last night and no one had found her yet.
He'd just turned to look at Fred to tell him he was going to check when Tori jumped to her feet in surprise, her eyes locked on the lake.
"Is that — Oh, thank Merlin! It's Nessa!"
George spun to look, and his heart sank in relief. For only a moment before he realized what was happening.
Because he was certain that she would have been Harry's item to retrieve. And yet there she was…being helped out of the lake by Cedric fucking Diggory.
There was a long silence as Fred and Tori shared a look with each other.
"Well, this just got a bit interesting, yes?"