Chapter 176: Bagman, Skeeter, and Hostage Candidate
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There was a Hogsmeade visit halfway through January, and as most Hogwarts students, Quinn was going out of the castle to the all-magical village of Hogsmeade.
Quinn, Marcus, and Eddie left the castle together on Saturday and set off through the cold, wet grounds toward the gates. As they passed the Durmstrang ship moored in the lake, they saw Viktor Krum emerge onto the deck, dressed in nothing but swimming trunks. He was very well-built indeed and as tough as he looked because he climbed up onto the side of the ship, stretched out his arms, and dived right into the lake.
"He's mad!" said Eddie, staring at Krum's dark head as it bobbed out into
the middle of the lake. "It must be freezing; it's January!"
"It's a lot colder where he comes from," said Marcus. "But still, going swimming in mid-January is a bit too much."
"Eh, it's not that cold," shrugged Quinn. "It's quite pleasant, actually. If you're sleepy, it'll wake you up — a dip in the winter is great for when you're feeling lethargic."
The two looked at Quinn as if he had grown a third head, collectively ignore his asinine advice.
Eddie turned to Marcus and replied to his last statement, "Yeah, but there's still the giant squid," he didn't sound anxious — if anything, he sounded hopeful. His team, Trolling Boogeys, after their first loss to Krum's Treacherous Barons, hadn't lost a single game — in fact, they had blown the competition away — going as far as to win by double score margins.
Quinn roamed his eyes around the snowy Hogsmeade, and peculiarly he caught a glance of a few goblins before they turned a corner. It wasn't that goblins weren't allowed in Hogsmeade — just they were rare to be seen in the village and preferred staying in the underground city that they had built under and around Gringotts.
Marcus suggested a visit to the Three Broomsticks to start off the weekend, and that's what they did. The pub was as crowded as ever — adults, students, residents, passerbys, everyone was enjoying the lively ambiance of the merry bar.
At the bar, the lovely Madam Rosmerta turned away from her various suitors to take orders from the three, "Welcome, boys. What can I get for you today?"
"One large butterbeer," replied Eddie, placing the coins on the table.
"Same for me, please," said Marcus, getting the money from his pouch wallet.
Madam Rosmerta counted the coins and nodded, "Alright, two large butterbeers coming up," she turned to Quinn and asked, "what about you?"
"One vanilla milkshake with a large scoop of butterscotch and shaved chocolate on the top, please," said Quinn, reciting his order, "how much would that be? I want a large serving as well."
Eddie, Marcus, and Rosmerta didn't show any reaction to Quinn's order — his two friends were used to the variety of drinks that Quinn ordered every time they came to Hogsmeade, and Quinn had left an impression on Rosmerta because he had ever only ordered a butterbeer once and after that time, Quinn's orders were always like his current one.
"Three sickles," she asked, which Quinn paid. As Madam Rosmerta remembered Quinn, she also knew his habits, "Your mug." Quinn always handed her a conjured mug to carry his drinks around with him.
Quinn smiled, and instead of conjuring a mug as she was expecting, he took out a wooden tankard from his robes. "Please, make the drink in this."
Rosmerta surprised hands received the tankard as her eyes switched between Quinn and the tankard in her hands before she finally went to fix up the drinks.
On the side, Eddie was grinning — the tankard was his Christmas gift to Quinn, after all.
"Hey? Why didn't Luna come with us?" asked Eddie.
Quinn s stared around the bar and the people as he answered, "She is spending time with her other friend."
"Eh? Who?"
Marcus answered as he arrived with his and Eddie's butterbeers. "You don't know? She has been spending time with Astoria.'
"Astoria? Astoria Greengrass as in Daphne's sister?" said Eddie taking his large butterbeer.
"Yeah, somehow, both of them are friends now."
As Marcus and Eddie were talking, Quinn was looking into the mirror behind the bar and saw Ludo Bagman, reflected there, sitting in a shadowy corner with a bunch of goblins. Bagman was talking very fast in a low voice to the goblins, all of whom had their arms crossed and looked rather menacing.
It was indeed odd, Quinn thought, that Bagman was here at the Three Broomsticks on a weekend when there was no Triwizard event, and therefore no judging to be done. He watched Bagman in the mirror. He was looking as if he was trying to convince the goblin of something.
'Ah, I get it now,' thought Quinn. He received his shake from Madam Rosmerta before telling Eddie and Marcus, "I'll be back in a bit."
Then he walked towards the shady corners, towards Bagman.
"Gentlemen," greeted Quinn as he sat down with them like they were all friends, and he was totally supposed to be there, "what a lovely day we have today. The snow is particularly lovely and glowing today. Having a cold drink like the one I'm having has a unique charm — you should try it out."
"Q-Quinn," stuttered Bagman, and even in the cold, he started to sweat as his heart began to beat faster, "w-what are you doing here?"
Quinn didn't reply immediately; instead, he stared into Bagman's eyes and reached out inside. 'Ah, as I feared. He's an addict. No, he's worse; he's an idiot.'
"Mr. Bagman, before you say anything else, I know what you're trying to do here," sighed Quinn, "we talked about this when I generously decided to provide you with some much-needed help. I warned you what would happen if you tried to do exactly this."
"N-No, you've got all this wrong," sputtered Bagman, "I wasn't —"
A goblin cut Bagman off, "Who are you?"
Quinn glanced at the goblin, scooped up a spoonful of ice cream, and ate it. "Quinn West."
The four goblins, dressed in heavy robes, twitched at the mention of his names.
"West," one goblin replied with a guttural voice, "I remember, you're the one who has a student vault with us. The only West coin we have in Gringotts."
"Yes," smiled Quinn, continuing to drink and eat, "I'm also the one who paid Mr. Bagman's debt, and I would suggest that you don't lend him more money."
"That's between us and Ludo Bagman. You're not to interfere in our business."
Quinn watched the toothy goblin, showing their sharp teeth, and shrugged. "Okay. . . I will take a guess about what is happening here. Mr. Bagman here is trying to convince you to lend him some money, which you're hesitant to do because his past record with Gringotts isn't particularly spotless. But Mr. Bagman assures you that he'll pay you back on time."
Bagman wasn't even looking up right now. He had his eyes squeezed close, his head bowed down.
"You see, the reason behind Mr. Bagman's confidence is that he plans to put his money. . . once again into gambling. . . just like last time. This time around, he was going to put his money into the very lucrative quidditch tournament happening around right now."
Quinn's initial plan had been to keep the betting system inside Hogwarts and for the Hogwarts student. The Weasley twins had other ideas — around the third week, they started expanded to the people in the stands, and when the fifth week rolled around, they came to Quinn and suggested that they open up the betting to anyone who wanted to bet.
Their problem was that they didn't have the capital for the expansion. It took a lot of cash and liquidity to match the bets and keep a betting operational. Moreover, they didn't have the knowledge on how to work something of that level.
Fortunately for them, Quinn was ambitious and liked the idea. Furthermore, he had his head crammed with business knowledge from George West, Elliot Dalton, and Lia West — liquified gems of wisdom and had the money to back everything up.
"And I'm sure you fine gentlemen must know who run the Hogwarts quidditch betting scene," he pointed at himself, "I do; as such, I decide who gets to bet, and I have placed strict orders that Mr. Bagman is not to be allowed to place any bets."
Quinn stared up into Bagman's round, rosy face and his wide, baby-blue eyes." But it seems that he has employed another to do his bidding — I thought of this happening, in fact, expected it, but sincerely hoped that he won't go down that path."
"I-I. . . ."
Around that time, Rita Skeeter had just entered. She was wearing banana yellow robes today; her long nails were painted shocking pink, and she was accompanied by her paunchy photographer. She bought drinks, and she and the photographer made their way through the crowds to a table nearby. Then she noticed Ludo Bagman, a bunch of goblins, and Quinn West sitting in a shady corner.
"Bozo? What's Bagman. . . what's he doing with a pack of goblins in tow? Showing them the sights . . . what nonsense . . . he was always a bad liar. Reckon something's up? Think we should do a bit of digging? And why is Quinn West sitting with them? . . . Come on, let's go talk to them — a friendly chat, you know?"
She, with her trusty photography, marched towards the corner and, with a brilliant smile and shrill voice, spoke, "Bagman! What a surprise to see you here."
"Go away, Ms. Skeeter, you're not required here," said Quinn without looking at the reporter.
Rita Skeeter's smile flickered very slightly, but she hitched it back almost at once; she snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out her Quick- Quotes Quill, "Ah, Quinn, I didn't see you there—"
"Ms. Skeeter, why are you still here?" asked Quinn, finally glancing at the woman.
Rita's eyes hardening as they fell on Quinn, "Quinn, seeing you with Ludo Bagman is a surprise. . . . I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl. . . ." She tried to garner some favor.
If Ludo Bagman was scared before, he was more scared now. Rita Skeeter was like a blood-smelling hound who wouldn't let go of a scoop if she could smell one. And right now, she was trying to garner favor with Quinn.
Quinn sighed once again, "Ms. Skeeter, can I talk to you for a second."
Rita made Bozo stay behind as she followed Quinn to another corner. "Yes, Quinn? What is it? Do you want to know about Bagman because I have a lot of things I can—"
"Ms. Skeeter," Quinn stopped her, "I knew about your little secret before I even met you. Don't you think I would know Mr. Bagman's dirty little secrets? I know what he did during the war, what he's doing now, and what he's going to do in the future."
He took a pause before finally stating, "Ms. Skeeter, you don't have to do this. All I desire from you is to not cross paths with me. If you can do that, I'll not come in your path if you do that, and we both will go out merry ways."
Quinn understood that if he wanted, he could use Rita Skeeter as a very useful asset. But Quinn didn't want to deal with Rita Skeeter as he had too much on his plate to keep tabs on what she was doing, and Rita Skeeter was like a viper, and if he gave her a chance, she would bite him. He was a hundred percent sure that if he asked Rita Skeeter to do something, she would try to find something that would put Quinn at a disadvantage.
"Do you understand me?"
Rita's quill hand went down, and she nodded silently.
"Good, then. I wish you a pleasant day."
He walked back to the goblin table, and as he sat down, he addressed Bozo, the photographer, "You can go now. Ms. Skeeter is calling for you."
Bozo seemed confused as this wasn't how things usually went. His partner(boss) would usually be smiling with the other party sweating. He walked away feeling very perplexed.
"Now, where were we?" asked Quinn. "Ah, yes. As I was saying, if you want to make a loss, then go ahead, be my guest, lend him money because Mr. Bagman isn't going to be doing any quidditch betting — but maybe this better; maybe he will use that money somewhere useful."
The goblins had heard enough. They looked at each other before getting up and walking out of the bar. They didn't even look at Bagman before leaving.
"Mr. Bagman, I don't care what you do after the tournament, but before it, I don't want any problems from you. Even now, it won't cause me any harm if I let you do whatever you want, but tell me, what was our deal?"
". . . .If I give you the hosting job and stay out of trouble till the tournament, you'll pay off my debts," replied Bagman.
"Exactly," said Quinn, finally finishing his milkshake, "I'll let it go this time, but next time around, I won't be so lenient. You may take this any way you want to or can. . . ."
Quinn got up gave Bagman one last look before leaving. His job as the host of the Tri-wizard tournament was directly tied to Ludo Bagman being on the judging panel. If somehow, Bagman managed to get himself booted, then Quinn's host duties might come into jeopardy, and he would've to do extra work to keep that job.
As he walked back towards the bar, he saw the Weasley twins enter the pub. "Fred, George, here!"
" "Yeah, what is it?" "
Quinn pointed at Bagman, sulking in the corner, and muttered, "Mr. Bagman there was trying to place some bets. I've talked to them, but if he does come to you, don't let him come to place some bets — not even if he agrees to pay both of you back for the galleons he took from at the Worl Cup."
"How did you. . . —" "—Never mind," the twins sighed, "Okay, we will make sure that—" "—he doesn't place any bets with us."
"Good," nodded Quinn, satisfied, "also Bagman is using a couple students to place his bets; I'll be sending those names, so make sure they are banned for a couple of games." He had gleaned off the information right from the source.
" "Roger." "
When Quinn joined his friends back, Marcus asked, "What was that about?"
"Oh, you know. Business as usual," Quinn replied before calling out to the hostess, "Madam Rosmerta, one hot chocolate, please."
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"So, will you do it?"
Quinn stared at the five adults in front of him and pretended to ponder the question he just asked. "You're asking me if I would be fine being put into an enchanted sleep and then spend a couple of hours inside the freezing waters of the Great Lake in February."
Albus nodded as if it was a commonplace request, "Yes, that's about right."
"Hmm, I see," nodded Quinn, "While I would love to volunteer for this exciting opportunity, I've hosting responsibilities that I need to attend, so I'm unfortunately not available."
In the headmaster's office, Quinn sat with the three heads of schools, Flitwick and Barty Crouch Sr.
"Mr. West," started Crouch, "I assure you that you'll be absolutely safe. Professor Dumbledore has communicated with the merpeople, and they will make sure that you'll not be harmed down while you're sleeping."
Quinn, of course, wasn't worried about being harmed — certainly not underwater. That was probably the safest place for him.
"I understand that Mr. Crouch, and I've full trust in the measures taken, but I've things planned for the second task. Mr. Bagman and I've been in regular contact, preparing just for this task."
"And what might those preparations be?" asked Maxime.
"That you'll see on the day itself," smiled Quinn before asking back, "is there no else you can ask to be Fleur's hostage? Like one of your students, someone close to her, maybe."
"Well. . . Fleur's younger sister just arrived as the second batch of students from Beauxbatons. We can have her go under the lake. . . but I'm a little hesitant about putting someone as young as her in the lake so soon after she gets here."
Quinn groaned internally, not audibly, of course. It was true that Gabrielle Delacour was dangerously young to be put under the lake, and looking at it, he should volunteer for it. Fleur was his friend, and she would definitely not like it when she found that her sister was put inside the lake.
Especially not when the egg riddle states that they would lose those hostages after an hour. Not a thing to be happy about.
'Ah, whatever. I should just do it. There's no harm done to me anyway,' thought Quinn, 'I could probably break from the enchanted sleep if I try hard enough. . . . it'll be a good opportunity to see how well I can do against Dumbledore's magic. But, what would I do while tied up down there, not that I can talk merespeak. . . . ah, I should speak up first.'
But before he could, Olympe spoke up, "Quinn, are you dating Fleur?"
Quinn, who was about to speak, closed his mouth at the sudden question before opening it again, ". . . No, I'm not. . . why?"
"Alright, it's decided then. Little Gabrielle will go inside. I think having her sister down there will be a greater motivation for Fleur, increasing her chances to win."
"That's one way to think about, I guess," said Quinn. He was a little taken aback by the reasoning, but he could see it working. If someone put Lia under the lake, Quinn would literally tear the lake apart to get to her.
"This is over then?" said Karakoff, sounding bored mixed with a bit of irritation, "everyone's hostages are decided. Three of them are already put into sleep for tomorrow; we just need to get that little girl down there."
"Oh? Who're the other three," asked Quinn.
Dumbledore answered Quinn, "Ms. Ivy Potter for her brother Harry Potter; Ms. Cho Chang for Cedric Diggory; and finally, Ms. Daphne Greengrass for Victor Krum."
Quinn's brow twitched at the mention of Daphne going into the lake. He knew that she would be going inside, but still hearing it now bothered him a little.
'Krum better come first in this round,' thought Quinn, 'and Ivy instead of Hermione looks like I was wrong. Well, sister trumps date, I guess. And Lily Potter must know about the real situation.'
"Great to know," he said, "I'll use that info while hosting."
He was going to put on a show tomorrow morning.
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Quinn West - MC - Investor, Consultant, hostage candidate.
Ludo Bagman - Gambling Addict - Working under strict terms.
Rita Skeeter - Journalist - Sometimes being bold pays off, sometimes it doesn't.
Goblins - Profit-seeking - The West name subconsciously makes them snarl.
Weasley Twins - Betting Kings - Learning the ways to run an operation.
FictionOnlyReader - Author - Day 1 of 4 of end-terms is over. 2 out of 8 subjects are done. Three days and six subjects more to go.
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Chapter 177: Second Task, Project: Drone Vision
If you want to read ahead, you can check out my Patreón @
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The link is also in the synopsis.
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The entrance hall contained a few last-minute stragglers, all leaving the Great Hall after breakfast and heading through the double oak doors to watch the second task. They stared as Harry flashed past, sending Colin and Dennis Creevey flying as he leaped down the stone steps and out onto the bright, chilly grounds.
As he pounded down the lawn, Harry saw the seats from the first task dragon stadium in November were now ranged along the opposite bank, rising in stands built over the water of the Great lake that was packed to the bursting point and reflected in the lake below. The excited babble of the crowd echoed strangely across the water as Harry ran flat-out around the other side of the lake toward the judges, who were sitting at another gold-draped table at the water's edge. Cedric, Fleur, and Krum were beside the judges' table, watching Harry sprint toward them.
"I'm . . . here . . ." Harry panted, skidding to a halt in the mud and accidentally splattering Fleur's robes.
"Where have you been, Mr. Potter?" said an authoritative, disapproving voice. "The task's about to start!"
Harry looked around. McGonagall was looking at him disappointedly and a little angrily.
"Now, now, Professor McGonagall," said Ludo Bagman, who was looking intensely jolly to see Harry. "Let him catch his breath!"
Dumbledore smiled at Harry, but Karkaroff and Madame Maxime didn't look at all pleased to see him. . . . It was evident from the looks on their faces that they had thought he wasn't going to turn up.
Harry bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath; he had a stitch in his side that felt as though he had a knife between his ribs, but there was no time to get rid of it; Ludo Bagman was now moving among the champions, spacing them along the bank at intervals of ten feet. Harry was on the very end of the line, next to Krum, who was wearing swimming trunks and was holding his wand ready.
"All right, Harry?" Bagman whispered as he moved Harry a few feet farther away from Krum. "Know what you're going to do?"
"Yeah," Harry panted, massaging his ribs. The preparations for the task had caused him to be a little late — a little too late.
Bagman gave Harry's shoulder a quick squeeze and returned to the judges' table; he pointed his wand at his throat as he had done at the World Cup, said, "Sonorus!" and his voice boomed out across the dark water toward the stands.
"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task. I won't waste any more of your time and pass it on to Quinn West for him to continue the task."
The stands were built above the lake, supported by vertical beams holding them above the surface; as such, there was a good amount of space between the seating area and the lake. From that gap below, the students saw Quinn coming out, and it set them lit in murmurs and discussion.
Hermione and Ron were sitting with Lily Potter to support their friend's mother because they knew that Ivy was under the lake and Harry was about to go inside.
As Hermione watched Quinn enter their sight, she elbowed Ron in the sides, hitting him in the ribs. ". . . Is he walking on water?"
Ron was so engrossed to see Quinn walk on water that he could only nod his head. But Lily Potter did confirm Hermione's question. "Yes, dear. Quinn is walking on water. . ."
Quinn walked a little distance on the water to the point where he didn't have to feel uncomfortable craning his neck to look at everyone in the stands.
"Be honest," he started looking at everyone with a smile, "you're thinking how I'm doing this, aren't you?"
There were many "yeses" from the crowd, and Quinn could see a lot of necks craning and students standing up to get a better look at him.
"Being honest myself, I'm pretty cool right now," he hopped on the water a couple times, showing that there was no trick here and he was indeed solidly standing on water.
It wasn't that difficult to walk on water — an intermediatory water spell and anyone could replicate what Quinn was doing right now. The wow factor was because no one did it and because "walking-on-water" was an action tied closely to Jesus Christ, and religion was popular everywhere — be it magical or non-magical. Look at Friar; he was a cleric monk when he was alive, and even after his death, he was a devout practitioner of his religion.
Quinn smiled at the nods he received from the crowd and was about to continue when he felt a tremor beneath his feet. His smile cramped for a second. He raised his right foot and tapped it on the water, sending tremors back into the lake — hidden from everyone looking at him.
"Ahem, I'm sure since November, all of you must have heard at least one or a couple theories about the second task — all kind of speculations and conjectures in our beloved Hogwarts rumor mill, tingling curiosities up and down the castles."
Another water tremor came back to him, and the Kraken, who was looking to play (fight), replied back sulkily at Quinn's refusal water tremors.
'Alright, not that's over with. . . .' He spread his arms wide and continued.
"Now, as we stand here, on the Great lake, all of you must have some inkling about the task — at least that it's water-related," he glanced at the champions standing at a separate platform, "the champions know what they have to do and what is at stake here. The first task was all about them, but this time around, it's not just themselves they have to worry about — this time around, there are more things on the line."
All four champions displayed a different level of nervousness as they stood staring at the lake — all four knew what Quinn was talking about.
"Before I move on, I would start the task and get our champions working," said Quinn taking out a small white sphere with red veins all around. He dropped the sphere into the water. "I'm sure they're eager to get inside there and start their task. Before they actually go in, I can only share a couple of things — they have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them."
"But before they go, I would like you to introduce all of you and them to what we're going to for the hour they're inside."
He closed his right eye and raised his fake wand to the sky. Once again, like the first task, the light bent in the sky and a vast illusion of an underwater scene.
"This is the live feed of what's happening inside the Great lake. There won't be much to do for the hour the champions are underwater, so we will be watching them from here."
Quinn still had his right eye closed, and that was because his right eye was currently connected to the sphere he had dropped underwater — an artificial eye that he had planned and researched since his second year (Chapter 61) and had been actively building since this year (Chapter 140).
In 「 Project: Drone-Vision 」,
Quinn's right eye's vision was cut, and his optic nerves that connected his eyes to the brain were magically getting optical signals from the artificial eye. The artificial eye was covered with a protective coating of an air bubble that kept it separated from the water.
He could literally see what the artificial eye was catching — it was a little disorienting to see two completely different scenes. But he had gotten used to it.
"Now, champions, on the count of three, the countdown starts, then. One . . . two . . . three! Start!"
The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause; without looking to see what the other champions were doing, Harry pulled off his shoes and socks, pulled a vial of moss green potion out of his pocket, stuffed it into his mouth, and waded out into the lake. He had drunk a gillyweed potion that he and Hermione had brewed together. Harry clapped his hands around his throat and felt two large slits just below his ears, flapping in the cold air. . . . Quinn had gills. Without pausing to think, he did the only thing that made sense — he dove deep inside the lake — to get his twin out.
Victor Krum cracked his neck as he pulled out his wand and pointed it towards his head. The action made Quinn furrow his brow a little; he knew what was about to come — partial transfiguration around the head area was a tricky thing, and Quinn wasn't sure if the pro-seeker was adept enough to safely pull it off. Victor's head twisted into a shark head with jagged teeth and beady eyes.
And just like the originals, Cedric and Fleur used bubblehead charms to filter the air out of the water to provide them oxygen underwater before they dove inside to rescue her girlfriend and little sister. It was a charm that Quinn didn't use underwater, but when he had to deal with potions that released toxic fumes during brewing.
'Ah, these guys have it so easy,' thought Quinn and exhaled a big sigh as plenty of memories of being pushed around in the water, being lost in darkness, being cut, among other things like being smacked around by giant tentacles, flashed inside his mind.
Quinn shook his head and pulled himself out of the flashbacks, 'Yeah, so easy. . . .'
"Now that the champions are inside let's see how they're doing." The illusion overhead changed as the eye moved. They could only see ten feet ahead so that as the eye sped through the water, new scenes seemed to loom suddenly out of the oncoming darkness: forests of rippling, tangled black weed, vast plains of mud littered with dull, glimmering stones.
First, they saw Cedric swimming freely, but the very next second, his ankles were grabbed a grindylow, a tiny, horned water demon, poking out of the weed, its long fingers clutched tightly around Cedric's leg, its pointed fangs bared — Cedric stuck his hand quickly inside his robes and fumbled for his wand. By the time he had grasped it, two more grindylows had risen out of the weed, had seized handfuls of Cedric's clothes, and were attempting to drag him down.
Sparkles shot from his wand, and the grindylows were pelted with what seemed to be jets of hot water, for where it struck them, angry red patches appeared on their green skin. Cedric pulled his ankle out of the grindylow's grip and swam as fast as he could, occasionally sending more jets of hot water over his shoulder at random; every now and then, he felt one of the grindylows snatch at his foot again, and he kicked out, hard; finally, he felt his foot connect with a horned skull, and looking back, saw the dazed grindylow floating away, cross-eyed, while its fellows shook their fists at Cedric and sank back into the weed.
"Grindlyows were a little blip, but it seems that Cedric is doing well — let's move on to another champion." His commentary wasn't needed as people were a little too engrossed in the visuals.
The eye moved, and soon they saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. It had paintings of merpeople on it; they carried spears and chased what looked like the giant squid. A cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom on all sides. Here and there at the dark windows, everyone saw faces . . . faces that bore no resemblance at all to the painting of the mermaid in the prefects' bathroom. . . .
The merpeople had grayish skin and long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks. They leered at Harry Potter as he swam past; one or two of them emerged from their caves to watch him better, their powerful, silverfish tails beating the water, spears clutched in their hands.
Harry sped on, staring around, and soon the dwellings became more numerous; there were gardens of weed around some of them, and he even saw a pet grindylow tied to a stake outside one door. Merpeople were emerging on all sides now, watching him eagerly, pointing at his webbed hands and gills, talking behind their hands to one another. Harry sped around a corner, and an extraordinary sight met his eyes.
A whole crowd of merpeople was floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. A choir of merpeople was singing in the middle, calling the champions toward them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue, a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. Four people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson.
Ivy was tied between Daphne and Cho. There was also a girl who looked no older than eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made everyone feel sure that she was Fleur Delacour's sister, Gabrielle Delacour. All four of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. Their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths.
"Ah, Victor Krum is here," said Quinn as he, a half-shark half-man, entered the illusion above.
Victor Krum sped toward the hostages, half expecting the merpeople to lower their spears and charge at him, but they did nothing. The ropes of weed tying the hostages to the statue were thick, slimy, and very strong. He looked around. Many of the merpeople surrounding them were carrying spears. He swam swiftly toward a seven-foot-tall merman with a long green beard and a choker of shark fangs and tried to mime a request to borrow the spear.
The merman laughed and shook his head.
Victor roared fiercely (but only bubbles issued from his mouth), and he tried to pull the spear away from the merman, but the merman yanked it back, still shaking his head and laughing.
Harry was watching the entire thing from the side while keeping an eye on Ivy. He swirled around, staring about. Something sharp . . . anything . . . Rocks were littering the lake bottom. He dived and snatched up a particularly jagged one and returned to the statue. He began to hack at the ropes binding Ivy, and after several minutes' hard work, they broke apart. Ivy floated, unconscious, a few inches above the lake bottom, drifting a little in the ebb of the water.
Harry looked around and saw that the shark-man swam straight to Daphne and began snapping and biting at her ropes; the trouble was that Krum's new teeth were positioned very awkwardly for grinding anything smaller than a dolphin, and Harry was quite sure that if Krum wasn't careful, he was going to rip Daphne in half.
He looked at Ivy before turning to Daphne — he knew that while his sister and Daphne fought a lot, but once they had been very close — close enough that if Ivy was awake right now, she would help Daphne right now.
Darting forward, Harry struck Krum on the shoulder and held up the jagged stone. Krum seized it and began to cut Daphne free. Within seconds, he had done it; he grabbed Daphne around the waist, and without a backward glance, began to rise rapidly with her toward the surface.
'Now what?' Harry thought. Fleur's Delacour sister looked a little too young to be here, and she was looking a little green. But after thinking for a while, he decided to leave — Fleur had done better than everyone else in the first task, better than him, and she had used pure magic and not other skills like flying like he had.
'She would be here soon,' he thought and took off.
And as Harry swam away, he saw Cedric swim past him towards the merperson stone statue.
Cedric reached the statue, and now the merpeople were standing close to Cho and Gabrielle. Cedric pulled his wand out. "Get out of my way!"
Only bubbles flew out of his bubblehead cover, but he had a distinct impression that the mermen had understood him because they suddenly stopped laughing. Their yellowish eyes were fixed upon Harry's wand, and they looked cautious. They moved away, giving Cedric space, who immediately shot a slicing hex at the thick bindings, freeing Cho.
"Alright, three hostages have been freed, with only one remaining. Let's see how the fourth missing champion is doing. . . . now, we just have to find where she is."
Quinn felt sonar tremors into the lake, and eventually, he got the feedback. He had found her. The artificial eye immediately trod water, and the scene everyone saw what was Fleur Delacour up to.
"Ah. . . so this is where she was."
Fleur Delacour was wrapped up in black weeds. They were tightly wound around her arms, legs, and torso. The black weeds weren't attached to the soil but were broken, and their other ends were held by multiple toothy grindylows, who were pulling the weedy-ropes while Fleur struggled, but the little demons' gang work was a little too strong for Fleur.
"It seems that Fleur has lost her wand," commented Quinn, and the illusion zoomed into the wand sitting down at the lakebed.
Suddenly, Fleur directly looked at the "camera," and she mouthed out words frantically. While others weren't able to understand the words, Quinn could as he read her lips. She was begging for Quinn — specifically, to rescue her sister and that there wasn't much time left.
Quinn, of course, knew that Gabrielle wasn't in any danger; she would be pulled out at the end of the hour. But then he saw something that concerned him a lot. Fleur's figure and face were slightly shifting.
'She is shifting into her Avian form.' Fleur was panicking.
From his talks with Fleur and his reading, Quinn knew that in their Avian form, Veelas weren't able to control magic properly. . . if she fully transformed, then there were solid chances that her bubblehead charms would pop and then. . . .
"Ah, damn it."
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Quinn West - MC - Human(Wizard/Magical) Projector/Drone.
Champions - 4 people - Doing their thing.
Hostages - 4 people - Doing nothing.
FictionOnlyReader - Author - Inspired by Gaara's sandeye.
FictionOnlyReader - Author Update - Day 2 of 4 of end-terms is over. 4 out of 8 subjects are done. Half-way through. There won't be chapter tomorrow as I need to prep. Actually, this was supposed to drop tomorrow, but I completed the latest chapter early, so here you go.
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The link is in the synopsis!
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