*The day of the Second Task, 8:30 A.M.*

"Wake up! Wake up!" a terse British voice exclaimed.

Harry slammed a hand down on his clock and groaned.

Normally, he didn't use alarm charms to get out of bed. He was taking no chances this morning, though, not when he needed to be down at the lake in an hour and a half.

He threw on sweatpants and a black hoodie (why shower when you're going to be swimming in a lake?), then retrieved the precious vial of gillyweed from his sock drawer. Dobby had made the delivery a few days ago, and Harry was pleased the item matched the description in the book Ron had found in the Room of Requirement.

He went to grab his glasses, but they were covered by a bit of parchment.

"I know I didn't leave any homework out," Harry frowned. "So what's this?"

He put on his glasses, then flipped the page over. The front had instructions, it appeared.

"Kindly fill in the blank with the spell Ron used to knock out the troll to access the rest of the letter."

Harry rummaged around in his trunk for a quill and registered a mild note of suspicion at the random parchment. After all, last time he'd followed instructions that randomly appeared on paper when he read it, he'd contributed to the development of a Voldemort plot.

"Well, if this paper was from Voldemort, I'm not sure even he'd be clever enough to use the term kindly in anything relating to me," Harry shrugged. He scribbled, "Wingardium Leviosa" on the neatly drawn line.

A few paragraphs of text popped up as he finished supplying the answer, and Harry felt himself grinning like a moron as he recognized Hermione's handwriting.

Dear Harry,

Sorry for the security question—I've just never delivered mail to someone within Hogwarts before, and I didn't want anyone else to read it in case the scroll came undone and popped open or something. Guess I'm learning from Moody—"constant vigilance."

He laughed out loud at that line, to the general irritation of the still-sleeping Gryffindor fourth years.

I wanted to say, first of all, thank you for the kind letter. I also wish we could have talked in person, but life at Hogwarts has been extra crazy with the tournament this year, and you competing in it, obviously.

I'm sorry for giving you such a hard time the other day, Harry. You didn't deserve that. I know you almost better than I know myself sometimes, and I know you'd never cheat. Your honesty is one of the many things I like about you.

Harry would definitely have to hide this letter well, or Ron and the other blokes would have a field day. He read on:

It just frustrates me when people get ahead for unclear reasons, or when people get preferential treatment that isn't based on merit. I'm not saying you did that, but with the whole blood superiority thing at Hogwarts, I've certainly seen it happen often enough. Still, that doesn't excuse my behavior, and I'm sorry for how I acted at dinner the other evening. And I accept your apology, as well.

You're going to do great with the next task, I know it. I'm looking forward to when it's over and there will be a bit of a break. I think everyone needs it.

Love from

Hermione

Though Harry had seen that closing line in a few letters from Hermione before, it struck him with much more force in this particular instance.

"New goal," he thought to himself as he took the stairs down to the common room at a lively pace. "Finish the second task quick as possible. The faster I finish, the faster I get to see Hermione."

*Breakfast*

As had been the case just a few months ago, anticipation crackled in the air of the Great Hall. Harry's gut wasn't churning quite as badly as it had done before the first task, at least.

That is, until Fred called merrily, "Say hi to the giant squid for us, Harry!"

Harry took his usual breakfast seat next to Ron, mentally running through what he'd worked on with McGonagall to block out the jeers of the Slytherins. However, the third member of the trio was missing.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked the table at large.

Ron, Neville, and Ginny all shrugged.

"Haven't seen her, mate," Ron answered before taking a large bite of sausage.

"McGonagall came up to get her from our dorm earlier, probably around 8:30," mentioned Ginny. "I'm not sure where they went, though. Why?"

"Just curious," mumbled Harry. "Figured she'd be here."

His jubilant mood from earlier deteriorated, and so did his thoughts about the possibility of success in the impending task.

"What was I playing at, thinking I could win?" he nearly muttered aloud as he picked at a slightly runny egg. "I'm only fourteen, I'm not meant to be competing in the Triwizard Tournamen in the first place."

Suddenly, Hermione's voice—his conscience, as Harry had described it in the letter he'd sent—admonished him with such force that he nearly dropped his glass of ice water.

"Stop doubting yourself! You threw off an Imperius Curse from an ex-Auror, and saved Sirius and me from a good hundred Dementors at thirteen! You are a bloody great wizard, Harry Potter, and I'll be damned if I let you forget it."

Ginny and Ron shared a confused look at Harry's sudden turn into cheerfulness.

"Is that egg the most delicious thing ever, or what? You look like Dumbledore said Quidditch is back on," Ginny laughed.

"Huh? Oh, no, nothing, just remembered something good for, uhh, later on today," Harry answered. He even responded to Malfoy's call of "Have fun drowning, Potter!" with a jaunty wave and a quick reply of, "I will, Draco, a thousand thanks!" much to the amusement of Fred and George. Harry took another few bites of breakfast before checking his watch. "Nearly 9:00. I should probably start making my way to the lake."

"Good luck!" the table and the surrounding Gryffindors called.

"Has he been hanging out with Luna or something?" Ginny frowned. "It feels like Harry's gone a bit odd in the head, suddenly."

"Nah, I think he's just feeling good about things, Gin," Ron countered. "Think he's got some things, like for the task, squared away, y'know." He nudged his little sister and pointed at her dish. "You gonna eat that pastry?"

"Ugh, take it." Ginny flounced away.

Ron munched on a bit of the treat, then wondered aloud to the rest of the table, "What's got her in a snit?"

*9:20 A.M.*

Harry felt some nerves stirring, but as was the case during breakfast, he was able to settle them. "Unless there's a dragon underwater, I'm not sure how bad this could possibly be."

He was still concerned by the "we've taken what you'll sorely miss" line of the egg's message, though, and hadn't been able to determine what exactly it meant, despite his best efforts.

Well, of course, he'd miss Ron, Hermione, and his other friends, but he doubted that people would get put at the bottom of the lake for the tournament, especially given the supposedly revamped safety standards. And the grim warning of the missed thing "not coming back" after the allotted hour made it seem as if the merpeople hadn't taken anything too valuable or precious.

Harry continued to wrack his brain. He'd miss his Invisibility Cloak, certainly, or the Marauder's Map—well, Moody had taken that for investigation purposes the night Harry had worked out the egg clue, so technically the map was missing at the moment—or his Firebolt.

So lost in his thoughts was Harry that he nearly jumped into the lake when Ludo Bagman's magically amplified voice announced, "Welcome to the Second Task of the 1994-1995 Triwizard Tournament! We've got excellent weather for this event. It's a bit brisk, a slight breeze, but the sun is out and shining! Let's quickly recap the rules before we begin, shall we?"

Bagman paused and cleared his throat before continuing.

"Each champion has precisely one hour to recover what has been taken from them. Champions shall be awarded points based on how quickly they find their mark, recover it, and bring it to the surface. Champions will also be graded based on the effectiveness of their chosen water travel method."

Bagman quieted his voice slightly, turned to the foursome on the dock, and called, "You may begin after I complete my countdown."

The crowd counted with Bagman. "Three…two…one…GO!"

Harry pulled the gillyweed out of his pocket, uncorked it from the small vial, popped it in his mouth, and began chewing furiously, resisting the urge to spit the slimy substance out. Much as it was when he played Quidditch, Harry's focus honed in on a task that needed to be completed, rather than his competition. Bagman's commentary provided background information:

"It appears both Ms. Delacour and Mr. Diggory plan to use a Bubble Charm, while Mr. Krum has made a bold Transfiguration attempt!" Bagman exclaimed. "Mr. Potter, meanwhile, continues to march to the beat of his own drum, and is using gillyweed. We'll see if his decision to use a plant, rather than magic, pays off."

Harry swallowed the last of the gillyweed and seized up almost immediately. He felt as though Searing Charms had been applied to both sides of his neck. He gasped, hoping more air would reduce the pain by even a slight amount, but it turned more unbearable, instead. Harry angled himself down on the dock and, with a less than graceful dive, launched headfirst into the cold lake.

"And Potter is third in the water, following Delacour and Diggory! This looks to be…"

Bagman's voice faded away, and the stinging chill of the water vanished as well. In fact, it was pleasantly balmy compared to earlier, Harry realized. As he stretched out to swim, he noticed the physiological changes from the gillyweed had set in. Webbing rested between his fingers, and his feet felt lighter and distinctly more fin-like.

Though Harry had a speed advantage on Fleur, Cedric, and possibly Krum, depending on how his Transfiguration had gone, his fish eye-sight proved problematic. He could only see about ten feet or so directly in front of him, meaning that any potential threats in the distance would have a distinct advantage in long-range combat.

That didn't seem to be too much of a problem at first. Harry dispatched a couple of Grindylows with relative ease and continued swimming down. Even with his enhanced fish vision, inky blackness surrounded him.

"Gotta be close to the merpeople now," he guessed. There appeared to be a large rectangular object somewhat far up ahead, and it looked populated. Maybe the items were on it, and Harry had to find what had been taken from him, or convince the merpeople on board why he needed it so badly?

"That would be too easy, probably," he countered himself, dismissing the possibility.

As he got a bit closer to the merpeople, he heard a muted "boom."

WHAP!
"What the blood-? Argh!" Harry yelled, producing three large bubbles.

He could just make out some calls from whoever was on the large wooden rectangle.

"Your precious object lay just beyond our ship, but fail to defeat us in the next half hour, and forever it will be missed!" they cackled in song.

The merpeople had turned themselves into mer-pirates!

Harry, having been knocked back by the blow of the first "cannonball," which was more like a Bludger than anything, only just escaped the grip of a determined Grindylow. He kicked its knobby head hard and swam back toward the ship, this time with much more caution.

As he heard one mer-pirate yell, "Launch assault!" Harry backed up a hair, steadied his wand in front of him, and shouted, "Protego!"

A feeble white shield flickered and died, leaving him exposed to another cannonball. Harry dove and evaded the attack.

Moody's voice suddenly came back to him in the midst of his frustration. "Quick thinking. Improvisation."

Scanning the bottom of the lake, Harry spotted a loose bit of seaweed. "Accio Seaweed!" he cried.

He caught it, then cast "Duro" and "Engorgio" in quick succession, turning the seaweed into a makeshift rock-shield. Harry drew his wand in a slash across the back of the rock to create a sort of handle. The rock could take the cannonball hits, and Harry swam forward, pleased with himself.

"Harry!"

He glanced to his left and noticed Cedric was up ahead, a bit closer to the ship. "Take 'em together?" the Hufflepuff called through his Bubble Charm.

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"Alright, I'll dive beneath the ship and try to do some damage to its underside, that should give you an opening to attack without worrying about the cannons. Sound good?"

"Yep, let's do it," Harry nodded again, coming up with an idea that he owed to Hermione.

Cedric shot ahead, and the Blasting Spells he applied to the underbelly of the ship proved extremely effective, based on the increased and vigorous swearing of the crew.

Harry took advantage of his free movement toward the ship to cast Blue Bell Flames at it. The pirates laughed until they realized the flames were waterproof.

' "Yes!" Harry pumped a fist as he saw the flames hit the deck, causing more mayhem.

Cedric continued the two-pronged assault. "Diffindo!" The mast of the ship fell and covered a few of the mer-people. He also Transfigured the cloth of the sail into metal chains before swimming on toward his target.

Harry finished the job. "Incarcerous!" The chains snaked themselves around the quintet of mer-people, rendering them harmless.

"Good spellwork, Potter!" Cedric called as he grabbed Cho, his "prize," and began swimming up out of the murky depths.

"Merlin, they did bring people down here!" Harry realized with a shiver. "Does that mean…?"

Yes. Hermione, his Hermione, was tied to a rock by what looked like seaweed, and appeared to be dozing peacefully.

Harry dove to the lake's bottom, scooped up a small stone with a jagged edge, and began hacking at Hermione's restraints. Suddenly, something popped up in his peripherals…a shark!

Harry instinctively shielded Hermione with his body, but then saw it was only a shark's head, with a human body attached. "Krum's transfiguration attempt," Harry surmised.

After he cut Hermione free, Harry tossed the rock into Krum's field of vision. The Bulgarian grabbed it and worked his hostage—probably that girlfriend Hermione had mentioned such a long time ago—out of the seaweed chains.

That left Fleur's person, a small, rather pale blonde girl.

"What's Fleur playing at?" Harry thought, growing increasingly distressed as he considered the vulnerable girl in front of him. "The hour must be nearly gone by now."

He dived down to retrieve another rock, slashed the girl free, and began the long, arduous ascent to the surface, holding Hermione by her shoulder and the other girl by the hand.

"Too bad whoever put them in this sleep didn't add a weight reduction charm to their bodies," Harry groaned internally. "But then again, they probably didn't think one champion would be trying to rescue two people."

The additional weight and the inability to use his webbed fingers to swim forward took away precious seconds of Harry's gillyweed enhancements. His legs burned as he kicked harder and harder, but surely he'd be breaking the surface soon…

The burning pain returned to the sides of his neck, and accompanying the pain was the horrifying return of the lake's biting chill…

Harry's left shoulder screamed in protest of Hermione's weight and cramped up…but light, beautiful light, was mere feet away now…

He broke the surface, yanking Hermione and the other girl with him, then gulped in massive breaths of air.

Hermione blinked rapidly, then shivered. "Merlin, it's cold." She turned to look at the girl. "Why'd you bring Fleur's sister, too?"

"Oh, that's who it is? Should've guessed, she looks a bit veela," Harry panted. "And Fleur didn't make it down, couldn't really leave the girl behind."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione sighed, smiled, and gave him a look of admiration and something else steeped in pity. "The song was meant…well, I can't say I'm surprised, all things considered."

"What?" As they neared the dock, he distinctly felt as though everyone was in on a joke he'd never learned.

"The one hour that the song talked about was meant to get everyone back in a reasonable amount of time," Hermione explained patiently. "Though I can't blame you for taking the song literally," she added kindly. "After all, people have died in this tournament, and they did send full-grown dragons at all of you in the first task. But Dumbledore had precautions in place to make sure everyone was fine." Another shiver. "Wish he would've done the kindness of casting Warming Charms or something on us, though."

Harry felt dual twangs of stupidity and annoyance. He should have realized that, of course, Dumbledore wouldn't let four underage wizards and witches drown. In his defense, though, the egg's warning had sounded grim, and seeing immobile bodies lashed to rocks at the bottom of the lake had hardly been reassuring, either.

Commotion ruled as Madam Pomfrey bustled back and forth between the champions and their hostages, making sure they had suffered no ill effects from the prolonged water exposure.

"Absolutely ridiculous!" she huffed as she forced Harry to drink various hot potions. "They have mermen shooting cannons at you, and you're in that ice bucket of a lake for over an hour and a half—in a competition you didn't sign up for, mind you—but you need permission slips to go to Hogsmeade?" She snorted. "School needs a safety overhaul, if you want my opinion."

Harry's heart sank—he'd returned well outside the time limit, even further out of it than he'd initially hoped, and it could've been avoided if he'd simply grabbed Hermione and left. Cedric and Krum had wasted no time worrying about the other people…

He found it odd that the scores hadn't been announced yet. Bagman had wasted no time after everyone had finished the first task. As if on cue, the ex-Quidditch star called, "The judges have gained new information and are taking a brief conference to assess scores."

Suddenly, Hermione sidled up to Harry.

"I never said thank you for saving me," she murmured, trying to avoid drawing attention of onlookers.

Harry smiled easily. "I know you'd do the same for me. You helped me figure it out with Hogwarts, A History."

"I never did get that back via special delivery, did I?" Hermione cocked an eyebrow.

Harry felt his jaw drop, but couldn't do anything to set it back in place right away. "No, you didn't," he responded slowly.

"Well, maybe we can fix that later…" Hermione drawled, chuckling at the obvious effect her flirting had on Harry, then gasped and drew back as Fleur filled their personal space.

The French woman's robes were torn, and she sported an array of impressive cuts on her face and arms, but she didn't seem too worried about her appearance.

"Zank 'ou for saving Gabrielle." She grabbed Harry's hands, and Hermione's face went stony at the movement. "Even though she was not your person. I got attacked by ze grind-ee-lows, zey are not as common in France…"

Hermione's rough cough interrupted the spiel.

"Oh! 'Ello…" Comprehension. "Oh…" Her eyes flickered between Harry and Hermione. "Are you…?" She pointed her two index fingers at each other repeatedly, miming "together."

Harry and Hermione turned to look at each other now, communicating silently.

"What do we say?" her eyes asked.

"Hopefully the same thing," he answered in his head.

"Yes," they replied in unison after a beat. Hermione leaned close to his shoulder, and Harry wrapped an arm around her.

Fleur clapped a hand to her mouth "Ahh, I am sorry! I do not mean to, how you say, step over ze boundaries, 'Ermione! We are more affectionate in France, within zee ships of friends, even," she apologized. "And, well, eez part of being a Veela, as well," she shrugged.

Hermione's expression cleared up a bit, and she managed a small smile at the other woman. "Thanks, Fleur."

"Of course, of course!" she nodded. She motioned at Harry. "I think zey are ready to judge, no?" She gave a wave to Hermione.

"I'll see you in a bit, then," Harry muttered, trying not to smile like too much of an idiot.

"Yeah," Hermione nodded back, returning his goofy beam.

Harry jogged to catch up with Fleur and the others.

The French woman shot him a surreptitious wink that could only be described as Weasley-esque.

"Votre petite amie est tres jolie, 'Arry!" she fairly sang at him.

Harry frowned. He had a limited knowledge of French—as in, it didn't exist—but Fleur's tone suggested she'd complimented him. "Thank you?"

She gave a merry laugh, then stepped back away from the others and whispered so they couldn't hear. "I said that your girlfriend eez beautiful."

He grinned back at Fleur. "Yeah, I know."

"Hermione's my girlfriend," he realized. It had been so easy, happened so quickly, that he couldn't help laughing at the stress and worry of the past few weeks. There were still some things that needed to be discussed, but…"I'm dating Hermione Granger…now there's a thought to charge a Patronus!"

*At the judges' table*

Ludo Bagman applied Sonorous to his voice again and called, "Ladies and gentlemen, we will now announce the scores, which are out of fifty points. We gained new insight on the situation of one champion in particular thanks to the reports of the mermen and mermaids. Here are the scores…

"Fleur Delacour used an extremely effective Bubble Charm, but was attacked by grindylows fairly early in the competition, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty two points," said Bagman.

"It eez more than I deserve," Fleur muttered, hanging her head in disappointment.

"Victor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration. Given the challenging nature of the magic attempted, along with the fact that he returned second with his hostage, we award him forty points."

Harry clapped, but he felt hollow. Certainly his late return would cost him dearly.

"Cedric Diggory, like Miss Delacour, made exemplary use of the Bubble Charm, returned with his hostage first, and came back only one minute outside of the time limit. Therefore, we award him forty seven points."

The Hufflepuff faction erupted into cheers, and Harry saw Cho beaming in the crowd. Would Hermione be giving him such a cheery look once she heard his low score?

"Harry Potter used gillyweed, which provided him with a significant edge in water travel," Bagman noted. "He returned last, and took by far the longest time to return. However, the mermen and mermaids informed us that Mr. Potter and Mr. Diggory reached the hostages at nearly the same time. Mr. Potter's delay was due to his determination to return Ms. Delacour's hostage to safety in addition to his own."

At Bagman's words, Hermione gave Harry that look again: a mix of affection—mostly affection, actually, he noted with pleasure—pity, and a tiny bit of exasperation.

"Most of the judges," Bagman continued, shooting a nasty look at Karkaroff, "feel Mr. Potter's choice represents the values of a true Champion. So, after much deliberation, we award him…" the crowd waited for the verdict. "Forty four points."

Harry's jaw dropped—he was now just one or two points back of first place heading into the final task. Hermione, Ron, Hagrid, and the other Gryffindors cheered even louder than the Hufflepuffs had for Cedric. Krum looked irritated, but Cedric and Fleur were giving Harry ample applause. McGonagall even offered an ear-piercing whistle and a warm smile for him, too.

"Please note that the ultimate task of the Triwizard Tournament will take place at dusk on June 24th," Bagman announced. "The champions will receive information about the task approximately one month in advance. Thank you all for your support of the champions and the event."

Harry wasn't sure what the best part of the next ten or so minutes were—warming up in the castle, getting high fives from Ron, Fred, George, and Lee, having Dobby Apparate in front of him to give him a hug, or hearing Hagrid tell anyone who would listen, "I knew Harry had it in 'im, I just knew it!"

And then, when he thought it couldn't get any better, Hermione approached him in front of the Fat Lady with a butterbeer and a smirk.

"What's that look for?" Harry laughed.

"Cause, to be honest, you were a bit of an idiot for believing that everyone would die after an hour. And for other reasons, to be discussed at another time," she teased. "But, you're a lucky idiot," she added.

"And why, pray tell, is that, Miss Granger?" he chuckled. Merlin, he was already quite smitten.

"Because, Mr. Potter, you're my idiot." And she led him by the hand to the party, with a quick kiss for good measure.

And that was definitely the best part.