The Second Task

The chill of dawn crept through the Tower as Sal geared up, slipping on his basilisk armor piece by piece. The modified helmet sat on his desk, runes softly pulsing with life. He glanced over to where Tonks and Tulip were still fast asleep. For once, they looked peaceful.

Sal hated what was coming.

A knock on the door jolted him from his thoughts. Tulip stirred awake as he opened it to find a Hogwarts staff member delivering the official summons for the second task.

"They've taken them," the messenger confirmed solemnly. "It's time."

Sal felt his chest tighten. He turned to Tulip.

"Where's Tonks?"

Tulip blinked, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "She… she said she'd meet us at the lake…"

But Sal already knew the truth.

"They took her," he muttered under his breath, clutching the helmet. He clenched his jaw and set it firmly onto his head. "I'll get her back."

The stands were packed. Flags of all three schools fluttered in the morning breeze as students eagerly awaited the task to begin. The lake glistened like dark glass under the pale sun.

Sal took his place alongside Fleur, Viktor, and Harry. He caught Harry's eye, giving him a small nod. Harry, despite the weight of it all, returned the gesture.

Albus stepped forward.

"Champions, the people most precious to you await beneath the surface. You have precisely one hour. Begin!"

The whistle blew.

Sal dove in first, the water swallowing him whole as the helmet's runes activated, creating a perfect seal. The world above faded, replaced by the murky green depths of the Black Lake.

Visibility was low, but Sal moved like a shadow through the water, the runes glowing faintly to illuminate his path. His armor cut easily through the currents, and the helmet allowed him to breathe steadily.

The grindylows didn't stand a chance this time. Spells lanced out from his gauntlets in precise bursts, driving them off before they could get close.

As Sal ventured deeper, the song of the merpeople guided him toward the heart of their village. Shapes appeared in the gloom—four figures bound and floating gently in the water.

Harry's friend Ron. Hermione. Fleur's sister. Viktor's friend.

And Tonks.

Seeing her unconscious, floating in the eerie quiet, stirred something fierce in Sal.

"I've got you," he whispered, swimming straight for her. He used a precise cutting charm to free her restraints and cradled her carefully in his arms.

As he turned to go, the merpeople stirred but didn't intervene. Sal's status as champion—and the agreement of the task—protected him from interference.

With Tonks secure, Sal activated the propulsion runes in his boots and shot back toward the surface in a streak of silver and blue.

The crowd gasped as Sal broke through the water, Tonks held protectively in his arms. He gently set her down on the dock as Madam Pomfrey rushed over to check on her.

Tonks groggily opened her eyes and blinked up at him. "You're… way too dramatic, you know that?"

Sal grinned, brushing wet hair from her face. "Yeah, well… you're worth it."

Tulip ran up, throwing a towel over both of them. "Leave it to you to make this a rescue mission."

"Someone had to," Sal said with a shrug. "Besides, we're not losing any more friends this year."

The crowd cheered as the other champions returned with their own rescues, but all Sal cared about was that Tonks was safe and the task was done.

For now.

The Night Before the Second Task

The common room had started to clear out, the late hour finally taking its toll on most of the students. Harry sat in front of the dwindling fire, absentmindedly running his hand over the golden egg. After his conversation with Hermione and Sal earlier, he knew what he had to do—get to the bottom of the Black Lake and retrieve someone precious to him.

But the problem wasn't figuring out where to go. It was how to breathe once he got there.

Hermione had mentioned the Bubble-Head Charm, but as Sal pointed out, one stray attack or snag on the jagged lakebed could pop it, leaving Harry gasping for air at the worst possible time.

So much for easy magic.

He yawned, considering just giving up for the night and trying to get what little sleep he could, when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

"Neville? What are you doing up?" Harry called.

Neville jumped slightly, nearly dropping the heavy book he was carrying. "Oh, hey, Harry. Just grabbing a book on magical water plants. Professor Sprout mentioned some specimens in the greenhouses that I wanted to read up on."

Something clicked in Harry's tired brain. "Wait… Neville, you know about plants, right?"

"Er… yeah?" Neville said, blinking at him.

Harry leaned forward. "Do you know if there's some kind of plant that lets you breathe underwater?"

Neville brightened. "Sounds like you're talking about Gillyweed! Brilliant stuff. Eat it, and it gives you gills and webbed hands and feet for about an hour."

Harry sat up straighter. "Really? That's exactly what I need!"

Neville nodded, hugging the book closer. "Oh, it tastes horrible, but it works. Actually… I just finished reading about it." He fumbled through his things and pulled out a worn copy of Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean.

He handed it over, and Harry immediately started flipping through the pages until he found a detailed drawing of stringy green weeds and the description underneath.

"Neville, this is perfect. You wouldn't happen to have any, would you?"

Neville looked sheepish. "Sorry, no. But I bet Professor Sprout has some. Or… well, maybe you know someone who could get you some."

Harry smiled, clutching the book. "Thanks, Neville. Seriously. You might have just saved my life."

Neville blushed. "Glad I could help."

With a quick goodnight, Harry practically bolted upstairs, already planning to find a way to get his hands on Gillyweed before the task.

And as tired as he was, for the first time that night, he felt like maybe—just maybe—he had a fighting chance.

The Morning of the Second Task

Harry barely slept. He had stayed up rereading Neville's book on Gillyweed, memorizing every detail and worrying about how he'd actually get some before the task. As morning broke over the castle, he hurried through breakfast, his nerves making it impossible to eat.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked as Harry stood up from the Gryffindor table, clutching his bag.

"To find Professor Sprout," Harry said. "Neville told me about Gillyweed. If anyone has some, she will."

Hermione nodded approvingly. "Good thinking. I'll cover for you if anyone asks where you are."

Harry raced down to the greenhouses, nearly slipping on the dew-covered grass. When he spotted Professor Sprout tending to a cluster of Flutterby Bushes, he called out.

"Professor! Sorry to bother you, but… do you have any Gillyweed?"

Professor Sprout looked up, surprised. "Gillyweed? Why on earth would you need that?"

Harry hesitated. Technically, he wasn't supposed to discuss the task, but at this point, survival felt more important than secrecy.

"For the second task," he admitted. "I… I need to breathe underwater."

Professor Sprout studied him for a moment, then gave a knowing smile. "Well, you're lucky I always keep a stock of aquatic plants on hand. Just a moment."

She disappeared into the storage shed and returned a few minutes later holding a jar filled with murky water and tangled green strands.

"Here you are. Fresh Gillyweed. Take it just before you enter the water. The effects last about an hour."

Harry felt a wave of relief. "Thank you so much, Professor."

"Best of luck, Mr. Potter," she said kindly. "And don't forget to chew thoroughly."

Harry quickly secured the jar in his bag and hurried back toward the castle, heart pounding but feeling better than he had in days.

As he crossed through the Entrance Hall, he ran into Sal.

"You got it then?" Sal asked, noticing the jar.

Harry grinned. *"Yeah. Neville was right. Professor Sprout had some."

"Good. You're going to do fine. Just keep your head down and stick to the plan."

Harry nodded. "Thanks, Sal. I don't know what I'd do without you lot."

Sal smiled faintly. "That's what we're here for. Now, let's get ready to win this thing."

Together, they made their way down to the lake.

Harry stood shivering at the edge of the Black Lake. The February air was sharp and cold, and though the winter sun reflected brilliantly off the water, it did little to warm him. He clutched the jar of Gillyweed tightly in his hand, feeling the slimy plant slosh inside.

The other champions were already preparing. Sal stood calm as ever, checking over the strange, shimmering helmet he had designed. Fleur and Viktor looked focused, each going over their own plans.

But Harry… Harry was just hoping this Gillyweed worked.

The crowd was enormous, gathered along the stands on the shoreline, cheering loudly. Harry spotted Hermione in the crowd, giving him encouraging waves. He saw Sirius and Remus standing together as well, Sirius looking as if he might run down there himself and dive into the lake in Harry's place.

"Champions! Take your marks!" boomed Bagman's voice, echoing across the water.

Harry popped the lid off the jar and looked at the revolting plant inside.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered. He stuffed the Gillyweed into his mouth and chewed.

It was every bit as slimy and disgusting as Neville had warned. His throat tightened, and he gagged on the rubbery texture. But then, as the countdown began, he felt the change.

Gills flared open on either side of his neck. His hands webbed. His lungs felt as though they were no longer working, but somehow he wasn't suffocating.

"Three! Two! One!"

The whistle blew.

Harry dove in.

Harry's heart pounded as he swam deeper into the Black Lake, following the haunting melody of the mermaid song still echoing in his head. The water around him grew darker, the pressure heavier, and strange shadows twisted through the kelp.

Somewhere ahead, he knew they were waiting—the people he had to save.

Shapes appeared in the gloom. Harry blinked through the murky water and finally saw them: four figures bound gently to a large stone structure in the heart of the merpeople's village.

Ron. Hermione. Tonks. Gabrielle.

And the merpeople were there too, watching silently with sharp eyes and spears in hand.

Harry glanced around. Where was Fleur?

That's when he spotted her off to the side, entangled with a swarm of Grindylows. They were wrapping around her arms and legs, dragging her away from the hostages. She was fighting hard, trying to blast them away, but even Fleur was struggling against the numbers.

Harry's gut twisted. She wasn't going to make it in time.

Panic flared. He looked back at the hostages. The rules said to only take one. But how could he leave Gabrielle when Fleur couldn't save her?

He darted over to Ron and quickly cut his bindings. Ron floated free, still unconscious, but safe.

Harry turned to Gabrielle. She was so small compared to the others, barely moving. Gillyweed or not, he couldn't leave her.

He gestured frantically to the merpeople. "I'm taking her too!" he tried to convey.

They didn't stop him. If anything, one of them gave him an approving nod.

Harry freed Gabrielle and tucked her close under one arm, grabbing Ron with the other.

He shot one more glance at Fleur. Sal had just arrived and, seeing the situation, veered straight toward her. Harry saw Sal unleash a powerful pulse of magic that scattered the Grindylows like leaves in the wind, freeing Fleur and helping her get her bearings.

Relieved, Harry kicked toward the surface, dragging Ron and Gabrielle with him.

The roar from the stands was deafening as Harry broke through the water, gasping for air as the effects of the Gillyweed started to wear off.

He half-dragged Ron and Gabrielle toward the platform, where the Healers rushed to pull them out.

Fleur was helped out moments later by Sal, who seemed completely calm, as if rescuing another champion mid-task was just another part of the plan.

Fleur didn't even stop to thank anyone before rushing straight to Gabrielle, who was already being wrapped in blankets by Madam Pomfrey.

"Merci… Merci, 'Arry," Fleur said breathlessly. "You saved her. I… I couldn't… I…" She looked close to tears.

"It's okay," Harry said, still panting. "She's fine. You're fine."

Nearby, Sal removed his helmet, water dripping from his hair.

"Nice work, Harry. That was a good call," Sal said, giving him a nod of respect.

Harry barely had the energy to nod back, slumping down on the dock as the crowd cheered and cheered.

For once, he felt like he'd done something properly heroic.

Even if he was still shaking from the cold.

The second task had left the crowd stunned. Not just from the danger of the Black Lake, but from the sheer spectacle of the champions' actions.

First, Sal had been the first back, surfacing calmly with Tonks at his side. His water-breathing helmet glinted in the morning light as he pulled Tonks onto the platform with practiced ease. He hadn't looked tired in the slightest—if anything, he looked like he'd just gone for a casual swim.

Madam Pomfrey fussed over Tonks, but she was perfectly fine, if mildly unimpressed with how much Sal enjoyed these near-death experiences.

"First return and no injuries. Textbook execution," muttered Moody from the judges' table, scribbling something down.

Next came Harry. The crowd had erupted in a roar when he surfaced, hauling both Ron and Gabrielle out of the water with the last of his strength. Soaked, shivering, and looking like he might collapse on the spot, Harry barely managed to get them to safety before falling back on the dock himself.

Fleur had rushed to Gabrielle's side immediately, tears in her eyes.

"You saved her," she whispered to Harry, holding Gabrielle close. "You didn't have to, but you did."

And finally, last to return was Viktor. He looked exhausted, his hair plastered to his face, and his expression set in a grim frown as he carefully helped Hermione from the water. Though slower than the others, he had fought his way through the Grindylows and succeeded, which the crowd still cheered for enthusiastically.

Ludo Bagman stepped forward to announce the results, his voice booming magically over the lake.

"What a task! Let's hear it for our champions!"

The crowd cheered wildly as the champions gathered on the platform.

"Now, after careful consideration, the judges have awarded the following points…"

"For Salazar Cross of Hogwarts: Forty-seven points!"

(The crowd cheered as Sal gave a small, humble nod of thanks. First place again—unsurprising after his flawless rescue.)

"For Harry Potter of Hogwarts: Forty-five points!"

(A huge cheer erupted. The judges had clearly rewarded him for rescuing not only his hostage, Ron, but Fleur's sister as well.)

"For Viktor Krum of Durmstrang: Forty points!"

(Respectful applause followed. He had finished the task and rescued his hostage, but his delay and scattered approach cost him some points.)

"For Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons: Thirty-five points!"

(The crowd still applauded, especially after hearing she'd been attacked by Grindylows but recovered in time to return safely.)

As the crowd slowly filtered back to the castle, Sal clapped Harry on the shoulder.

"See? You handled that perfectly."

Harry snorted weakly. "Easy for you to say. You talked to a dragon and made water magic look easy."

Sal smiled. "And you saved someone who wasn't even yours to rescue. I'd say you won some fans today."

Fleur approached, still holding Gabrielle's hand tightly.

"'Harry… thank you again," she said sincerely. "And Sal, merci for helping me with the Grindylows. I owe you both."

"You owe us a butterbeer in Hogsmeade," Sal joked.

"Deal," Fleur smiled, though her gratitude was obvious.

As they started back toward the castle, the tension of the morning eased, though Sal couldn't help thinking ahead.

Two tasks down.

One more to go.

And after that… he suspected the real trouble would begin.