Chapter 1101: 19
Chapter 19
The Swan Lake
Golden rays of light pierced the dusty air of a rarely visited room, illuminating the multitude of desks stacked upon each other in the far corner. Only one remained, standing in its lonesome in the middle, and right by it, casually tapping his fingers upon its surface, sat a young wizard.
Harry was in the process of carefully examining the bronze ring that he got out of the chest in the process of the First Task. The ring was featureless, plain and didn't betray its function with its looks alone. Frowning slightly, the teen placed it on the table before him and picked up his wand, tapping the rims of his spectacles in order to renew the spell-seeing enchantment he placed on them long ago. A couple of additional diagnostic charms later he was pretty sure that the object was a part of something else, as there were a couple of points on the inner edge where he noticed anchoring enchantments. The rest of the residue was complete gibberish and he wouldn't be surprised if most of it was just put there to confuse anyone attempting to do just what he was in the process of, but he had a feeling that it was a part of a navigational device. A compass of some sort.
From this, I can deduct that the next task will involve us poor competitors getting another part of this compass, which will make the Third task a treasure hunt. Joy of joys.
Still, it beats a manticore. Unless we have to fight a cockatrice to get the next part…
Shaking off the unnecessary train of thought, Harry glanced towards the big table in the middle of the emptied classroom. On the wooden surface lied the source of many, many frustrations for him as of late.
Namely, Frank. Full name – Frank Moonshine.
Harry could not get a full night's sleep during the week before the Task, as nervous as he was, so to occupy himself he decided to get the flesh-golem to move and interact with the world in a somewhat coherent manner. Unfortunately, the creation of the artificial intelligence that drove the construct was proving to be much more aggravatingly difficult than creating it and giving it the ability to move at all.
Harry tried everything, but the damn thing still was bugged as all get out and could not even walk along a straight line, hence the name.
Finally, a day ago, he looked at it, waved his hand and told Hermione that he trusted her to finish what he started. The girl shrugged and agreed, though not without some comments in jest about who contributed most to their common project.
Harry, though, moved on to the other design of his that he been absently designing since summer.
His Cloak of Awesomeness (working name).
The design he found in his pocket, scrawled with his hand on a piece of tissue, was rather baffling. On it was the plans for a cloak that allowed the user to levitate. Or, in more accurate terms, fly around while being suspended more or less upright at the maximum height of one meter.
While not particularly impressive on the first glance, it was rather innovative. The wizards had long since abandoned the idea of flying without a broom or any other cumbersome gadget due to the limitation in the telekinesis and levitation charms which on the current stage of magical progress (yes, there is such a thing) were deemed unresolvable. However, no one, to Harry's knowledge, had gotten the idea to enchant a piece of clothing to act in the manner he had in mind.
The design he found was just a start. It contained the idea of making the cloak repel all air in its vicinity in a particular direction. If Harry remembered correctly, he got the idea from the girl he had been drinking with when Sirius roped him and Remus into a bar crawl, who for some reason saw fit to educate him on the principles behind modern hovercraft. For the record, the previous topic they'd been discussing was eels.
The cloak itself was to be inscribed with several sets of runes, the purpose of which was to make sure it wouldn't flip, flop, pull a Marilyn Monroe or do anything equally embarrassing while at the same time sticking to the wearer in several key places to lift him as well as itself. The arrays that Harry read from the tissue design would never work, so he decided to hit the library to investigate sticking and paralyzing charms, anything to do with weight distribution and the specifics behind the Portkeys (the way they seemed to glue to the body of the user and keep him from moving could potentially be useful). The Cloak looked promising.
His life outside of his research, however, looked slightly less so.
The articles following the Task didn't let up on the slander of his name. Umbridge and Skeeter, it looked like, decided to give him no quarter. If it were anyone else being the victim, Harry would have been grudgingly impressed with their tenacity and determination to completely annihilate the opponent. As it was he being affected, though, he started to fear that Umbridge wouldn't stop with just his reputation.
A few days after the Task, while reading another article, containing subtle barbs in his address, he wondered just why Umbridge seemed to hate him so. The only thing he did to her was just… well… obtain all the Bloodsucker Oak acorns from a property Lucius Malfoy had owned and afterwards gifted to Umbridge. The profit she would have made if he didn't intervene would be substantial, granted, but it didn't make sense to retaliate with a hatemongering campaign of such scale.
Harry told his account manager, Tearshape, to make inquiries as to what implications their little scheme could have caused to provoke such measures. The crafty goblin had the answer within two days.
It appeared that once Malfoy the elder gifted Umbridge the oak habitat, the Senior Undersecretary immediately saw the situation as an opportunity to brownnose and passed the gift to Fudge without actually checking the property, sure in Malfoy's integrity. The Minister didn't seem to have much to do that day and asked his loyal toad to come with him to examine the land. Needless to say, the following scandal significantly worsened Umbridge's reputation (it was considered extraordinarily bad taste to re-gift things in those circles, especially so soon), and even worse, it resulted in Umbridge falling out of favour. She still retained nearly all of her connections plus was still useful, so she didn't lose her position, but she had much less influence on the Minister and he no longer was predisposed to listen to her first and the others next. In addition, she was given much more menial work, such as the organisation of the Tournament. From what Tearshape learned, it was an incredibly hard blow to her. Add to this her known tendency to hurt her enemies in any way she could, and the smear campaign no longer seemed illogical and blown out of proportion.
The second Task was swiftly approaching, but first, there was a matter of a certain Ball to deal with.
When Harry was first told of the event, he was fairly disgruntled by yet anotherthing he'd have to waste time preparing for. Still, he didn't want to embarrass himself (or Susan, who naturally agreed to be his date), and endeavoured to learn some basic dancing skills in classes McGonagall organised.
The evening itself was a rather tasteful affair and he enjoyed himself, despite what came in the aftermath of the ball.
"So, would you mind explaining me what exactly was the matter with that?"
Neville was sitting in the sole chair in the indoor greenhouse that he and Harry created last year. His questioning gaze was solidly locked on the back of the other young man, who had just finished re-planting a rather sick Tentacula.
"Hm? Ah, nothing, just my mistake, I seem to have used the wrong fertilizer last time…"
"Not the plant. Susan."
Harry shrugged as he dragged the dragon skin glove from his left hand, absently slapping away the revitalised Tentacula.
"Nothing. We just realized we're much too different to work out."
"How so, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Well…" Harry grabbed his wand from the nearby table and transfigured a chair for himself. After sitting, he drummed his fingers thoughtfully before answering.
"She's much too Hufflepuff. Too much adherence to the rules, and I'm not talking about anything major – just the little things. She hates it when I skive off History, or eat in the kitchens, or do anything at all that steps outside the common practise and/or rules."
"Ah. And what was her reaction to your major missteps? Like getting Sirius out?"
"Blast it, Nev," Harry immediately cast a silencing charm at the door along with a basic proximity ward, "You don't just talk about such things without first ensuring you won't be overheard!"
The formerly timid teen had the good graces to blush.
"Sorry… I forgot."
"Just don't make the same mistake again," Harry requested tiredly. "And that time she mostly let it go because she was rather baffled by the whole "wrongfully imprisoned" bit. It rocked her world, so she didn't get around to giving me the silent treatment."
"Is that what she does?"
"Yeah. I honestly didn't notice just how many little rules I kept breaking until she started pointing it out. Hermione mellowed out so much since the first year she doesn't bother anymore, and it's rather nice. I found that I don't enjoy the constant badgering… whoops. No pun intended. The last straw was her insisting I stay at the ball until it's over as it's expected of me."
"You were looking rather annoyed, now that I think about it…"
"Of course I was annoyed! The music was bad and too loud once the slow dances were over, the people at the champions' table were stuffy and pompous, the other champions were being very awkward, the dress robes were extremely uncomfortable and my foot started to cramp. For bonus points, I had more than a bit of that alcoholic thing, I don't quite remember the name. So, right when that guy from the Ministry – you know, the fat one – began his speech about the international unity and all that rot, Susan told me that I should listen instead of reading the menu."
"And that blew you up?"
"No. I was very irritated, but I didn't start on her case until later on. After the dances, we went out for a snog. And… well, she started berating me."
"About?"
"Everything. She said that she wasn't sure if she wanted to continue dating, since yada-yada-yada. Well, that did the job and I started venting."
Neville winced.
"Did she slap you?"
"Twice. Once when I said that we won't work out because she's so bloody uptight. Looking back, it was a really bad move."
"Yeah. No one would like that. Doesn't make it any less true, though."
Neville. Ever the voice of support.
"But you are still a bloody idiot who can't control his mouth."
Or not.
"I was worked up. I'm not exactly at my brightest when angry," Harry defended himself half-heartedly. "But that pales and shrivels in the face of what I said directly after that."
The teen stood up and cleared his throat.
"Ahem. It went like this: "Seriously, I don't get what's the big idea. For me, the rules are just the handy list of what I reallydon't want to be caught doing!""
The silence lasted for a few second, after which Neville started slowly clapping.
"Harry, you are a giantcretin."
"I know, believe me. But hey, I had more than a couple of drinks."
"And she…?"
"She stared at me for a couple of seconds. I think she couldn't process what I said," Harry recalled with a self-deprecating grimace. "Then she slaps me and tears me a new one. Calls me… what did she say...? Ah, yes, "a self-absorbed ass whose nose is so far in the air your brain doesn't get enough oxygen, which worsens your idiotic attitude even further"."
"That sounds like something you would say," Neville noted thoughtfully. "She adopted your manner of cursing."
"And that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside," Harry answered sardonically. "She added something me being an elitist and compared me to Malfoy."
"Ouch."
"Yes, ouch. After that, I couldn't stay there and not do something I would regret later, so I left. End of story. Say, can you help me with the fluxweed? I need a second pair of hands."
For a couple of minutes, the duo worked in companionable silence.
"You know," Neville muttered after a while, "s-she was right somewhat."
"What? Me being an elitist? Please, she couldn't be further from the truth and you know it."
"No, the self-absorbed thing. Harry, you ig-ignore anyone outside of me, Ron, Hermione, Luna and the G-Gryffindors who talk to you. The rest of the school – heck, the rest of the c-country – could die off and you wouldn't really notice."
The black-haired teen threw a bewildered glance at his companion.
"Hey, what did I do to provoke this?"
"Remember, last year, you s-said that being a friend means telling the hard truths when it's n-needed? Well, here you go. Tru ... truth," Neville was actively avoiding eye contact, which, along with the renewed stutter, hinted at the guy's fear of being rejected over the things he said. This went a long way to alleviate whatever anger Harry felt at the declaration.
The duo didn't say anything for a while, continuing to work in silence – one quiet with contemplation, the other simply out of bravery to continue the discussion. Finally, Harry nodded.
"You're right, Neville. Thanks."
The blond sighed in relief and offered him a shy smile.
When he left the classroom, it was already dark. The corridors were lit with the uneven light of the torches, and the ambience complimented Harry's contemplative state of mind perfectly. Actually, it matched it so well that he decided to take a rather circumvent path to the Gryffindor tower. As he climbed a staircase in a secret passage he hadn't visited too often, he noticed another figure, skipping not too far ahead. A familiar figure.
"Luna?"
The girl turned around, and looked at him dreamily.
"Harry."
"What are you doing here? It's rather late, after all," he walked closer, giving her a cursory glance to verify that nothing was out of place. Immediately, he noticed something weird. "Where are your shoes? Cute socks, by the way."
"Thank you, I do think so myself," she nodded, staring at her feet thoughtfully, as if only now realizing the wardrobe deficiency. "I found that nearly all of my shoes went missing again."
"Again?" Harry's eyebrows met in a scowl as he eyed her feet carefully, taking his wand out of his pocket. "I think I will have to talk with the Ravenclaw prefects; my reputation as a disreputable hooligan and a Dark-Lord-in-training may actually serve me here," he drummed his fingers on his wand after transfiguring a pair of shoes out of a couple of parchment scraps he found in his pocket. "Or maybe it will make things worse. Drat. Anyway, here you go. Last I checked, my transfigurations last at least a couple of hours with things this small. And your magical emissions will hopefully sustain them even further…"
"Thank you," Luna bounced up and down, checking the shoes. "This pair is much nicer than what I had, anyway."
"You're very welcome, I suppose," Harry trailed off, tilting his head. Out of all his friends, Luna was often the most insightful, and he highly valued her for the uncanny ability to make him feel better after a short talk. Making a split second decision, he sat on the stairs.
"Luna? I think I need your advice."
"What kind of advice?" she asked with airy interest, doing weird motions with her legs and examining her soles.
"Well, it was something Susan said when we broke up. I didn't pay much attention to it, but Neville pointed out that she was right in that. Luna… am I self-absorbed?"
The girl finally relented in her testing and in a fluid motion crouched near him, staring in his eyes seriously.
"No, I wouldn't think so, not completely," she said slowly. "A really self-absorbed person wouldn't help out a girl that people harass. You just… don't pay attention to anyone you don't value or don't attract your interest for some reason."
Harry was listening attentively, his mind slightly disbelieving at her seriousness. She hadn't even mentioned a single outlandish creature…
"Or you could just be the host of a Blast-a-dumble queen. But that would imply that I am also a Blast-a-dumble host, but I check regularly, and I haven't found any signs pointing to that…"
Never mind.
"Thanks, Luna," Harry smiled tiredly. "But still, Susan actually compared me to Malfoy... said that I look down on others."
The girl tilted her head to the side.
"You don't look down on people, Harry. Not really."
"Maybe you're right."
"You just can't recognise the kinds of Spranglings in others' heads."
"Eh," Harry made a quick time-out gesture. "Wait. Spranglings? You never told me of them before."
Luna looked surprised. Well, more surprised than usual: that girl always wore a look that said she was perpetually interested and intrigued by everything around her. It was one of the reasons Harry liked her so much: her attitude was refreshing.
"Really? How strange. Spranglings are creatures that live inside of our heads. They are very small, and spend their times tugging at our brains. Daddy theorised that it is they who are really thinking for us."
Harry rubbed his forehead in fond exasperation.
"Oh dear. That was rather disturbing. Never mind, what were you saying before we went off topic?"
"That you can't recognise Spranglings in people's heads, Harry."
The teen blinked.
"This… actually makes sense." Once you translate it from Luna-speak, of course. "Thank you, Luna. I will think on this further."
"You're welcome, Harry," came the serene smile.
So I need to understand people's motivations better. Learn to see things from their perspective. Tall order, but manageable.
The Sunday morning for which the Second Task was scheduled was bone-chillingly cold. The spectator stands were barely seen behind all the fur and other assorted clothing, especially in the Durmstrang section.
The champions themselves opted for lighter clothing that would not obstruct them along with heavy-duty warming charms. Still, even with them, Harry was slightly chilled and the French contender, Jean Mordeau, kept jumping on the spot, trying to warm up enough to stop his teeth from chattering.
"Well, it seems that everyone essential is already here, so we might as well start," Bagman told the four champions cheerfully. "So, the Second Task. As you can see, we have put an obstacle course around the lake," he gestured at the corridor between the shore of the lake and the high wooden fence that surrounded it. "Your task is to get an enchanted ring from the chest on the opposite side of the lake and return here. There are four rings. The obstacles range from moderately dangerous magical creatures to cursed traps. You will be graded based on your performance, and if you do not return with your ring before 60 minutes pass you will be docked points. You are allowed to work with others, but any direct attack will earn you a severe penalty. Questions?"
Aletha Gramm, the Durmstrang champion, jerked her head sharply in what could have been either a nod or an attempt to keep her wild hair out of her eyes.
"Yes, one. Is it necessary to defeat all the obstacles, or are we allowed to avoid them?"
"If you can circumvent something – be my guest, but you are generally marked by your performance, so the better you show yourself to be, the more points you get," the official shrugged. "Anything else?"
Everyone shook their heads.
"Then prepare to start! I'm going to explain the rules to the spectators and then I will give you the signal. Good luck!"
And with an enthusiastic wave, he left. Harry scanned the other champions covertly. Mordeau was visibly pensive, as if recalling all the charms he has learned for this occasion. Aletha was stretching in such a way that Harry quickly averted his gaze, silently thankful for the control his Occlumency, even on current, beginner stage, gave him over his emotions. Reinth was as impassive as he always was, but in his eyes, Harry could see the deviousness he rarely saw in other Slytherins.
He will play dirty, I just know it.
Bagman's thunderous voice echoed over the waters of the lake, disturbing its mirror-still surface. As he related the rules, the four champions walked to the starting line, which glowed like red embers.
"...And now, the Task will commence! Champions, get ready!"
Harry hunched down slightly and flipped the switch on his wrist holster that would release the wand on his demand.
"GO!"
The three boys blew ahead like cannonballs. Mordeau almost immediately took the lead, closely followed by Reinth and then Harry, who was visibly shorter than the older champions and therefore had to put some effort into running to stay close to them.
Once they entered the corridor between the lake and the fence, the visibility started to worsen almost immediately to a degree that they couldn't see more than about 40 meters in any direction. It was likely done in order to increase the chance they would be surprised by the obstacles ahead.
After a minute of running, they encountered the first obstacle – namely, a high wall made of stone. It had some obvious hand-holds that could be noticed by a cursory view, but other than that there was no hints as to what is was supposed to be testing. Harry slowed down and stopped, quickly unsheathing his wand and tapping the rim of his glasses to activate the rune-based spell-seeing enchantment that he applied a couple of weeks ago, which allowed to see much more than the charm he used before.
The wall was sparsely covered in runes that nullified any kind of sticking charms and made it highly resistant to direct damage. Other than that, it was a fairly usual wall with a Cushioning charm on the ground in front of it. Harry mentally awarded a point to the Ministry for implementing an obvious precaution.
Reinth had already started climbing by the time Harry finished his inspection and was already a couple of meters high. Mordeau wandered closer to the iced-over water and was seemingly trying to transfigure the rocks into a rope.
Harry moved closer to the wall and swished his wand in a jagged pattern, focused on the picture that he wished to see realised. Namely, a rope ladder that he transfigured from the stone around him, his magic pulling matter out of the ground. That was a neat trick he had read about in a book on applied transfiguration McGonagall recommended him before the whole mess with the Tournament began.
By the time he finished his transfiguration, Reinth has almost got to the top and Mordeau had started climbing. Harry looked his creation over with a critical eye, quickly transfigured a couple of hooks which he affixed to the end of the ladder and banished them upwards with a lazy gesture. He was lucky – the hooks took on the first try. Harry quickly climbed up, ending up on the top a minute faster than the sweating and swearing French champion. Before jumping down on the other side (he verified that the Cushioning charms were applied there as well), he accidentally glanced at the lake (which wasn't covered by the blasted fog that negated visibility over the course) and froze.
Aletha Gramm was skating on the surface of the lake, flash-freezing the water in front of her.
She was nearly half-way there, as well.
That crafty girl. Then again, she's taking a risk: judges can, and likely will, deduct points from her for the lack of showmanship, like they did with Reinth in the First Task.
Harry shrugged, marshalled his courage and jumped down. Half-way down he felt his speed level, then start rapidly decreasing, until he touched the ground with utmost dignity and immediately broke into a run.
Reinth's back was barely visible in the distance, and Harry knew the Slytherin was faster than him. Still, he really isn't much of a sportsman and is likely tired from climbing the wall like he did. He won't be able to maintain that pace for long.
Harry slowed down slightly as he saw the other Hogwarts champion grind to a stop and start casting. The teen frowned and cautiously edged ahead. What he saw didn't exactly inspire confidence.
Three fire-crabs were slowly encroaching upon Reinth, and the latter was evidently trying to slow them down even further by turning the ground underneath them to extremely sticky and viscous dirt and sending jets of water on them.
Fire-crabs were rather vicious creatures, native to the island of Fiji, which naturally brimmed with magic. After wizards learned of the island and the rich magical flora and fauna they possessed, they raised Muggle-repelling wards over the numerous magical reserves in the archipelago. The beaches on most islands literally crawled with the meter-high red carapace-clad critters that shot flames out of their rear ends when angry, when joyous, when mating, when dying… you get the picture. A nasty temper worsened their reputation even further. They were, naturally, hunted for potion ingredients and their jewel-encrusted shells to the point where they nearly became extinct in the late 19th century, but ICW fortunately saved them from such a fate.
Disregarding currently useless trivia floating in his head, Harry quickly got to business.
Reinth couldn't actually do anything about the crabs – they were much faster than their cumbersome exterior would suggest, occasionally jumping ahead a couple of meters by shooting fire from their exteriors, so he had his hands full with just trying to hold them back. It was up to Harry to take them out.
Their carapaces protected them from nearly all spells except for piercing spells, and after a moment of thought Harry disregarded that method. It would most likely just enrage the crabs, not to mention the fact that outright killing magical creatures was rather bad for his karma when he could just stun them… Then again, carapace…
The corner of Harry's mouth twitched upwards and he took careful aim at the ground just in front and to the right of the closest crab.
"Bombarda Maxima!"
It was as if the chitin-clad monstrosity had stumbled upon a mine. A powerful pressure wave lifted it, making it balance for a moment on its hind-legs. Alone, a single pair of thin limbs was unable to support the weight of the massive animal, and the crab collapsed backwards, exposing its vulnerable belly to a follow-up stunner.
"Good idea, Potter! At the count of three, same combination on the others, I take the left one!" Reinth called out, creating a strong gust of wind to push back the remaining two crabs.
"Got it!"
Nearly simultaneously, the crabs were lifted off their feet by magical explosions and quickly stunned. Harry's second crab, unfortunately, wasn't lifted all the way, but Harry's stunner still managed to nail it in the belly.
"Well, shall we continue?" Harry asked, sheathing his wand and cracking the joints in his right arm.
"Indeed," Reinth affirmed and started jogging forward, followed closely by Harry. Soon, they heard the huffing and puffing behind them that signified the fact that the French champion finally caught up to them. Harry glanced aside at Reinth, who appeared completely nonplussed by the fact that they were joined by their direct competition (Harry felt that he and the Slytherin came to an unspoken understanding that they wouldn't sabotage each other. Other champions, however, were fair game).
"Did you see Gramm? She took the short route," Harry supplied, trying to start a conversation.
"Mhm," was the reply.
"Should we be worried?"
"Doubtful. Judges dock points for obvious shortcuts. A lot of points."
"Yeah, no kidding," Harry started to see something coming from the fog up ahead. "By the way, I see something."
"Huh?"
They slowed to a walk right before a strange foggy phenomena that Harry would be hard pressed to describe. It looked like an entrance to a cave the walls of which were woven from thin brownish strands of light, slowly moving in the breeze.
"Why have we stopped? I don't see anything," Reinth asked, his voice completely level.
"You don't? Hm," Harry looked over his spectacles, and the space before him really appeared featureless to the naked eye.
"I have a spell-seeing enchantment on my glasses. There's magic in the air here, it looks like… well, a constantly shifting cave would be the closest description."
"So… we need to pass the cave? I doubt it is just that simple."
"Cave? What cave?" Mordeau finally halted right beside them. Harry quickly told him of his findings.
"I think I might have an idea of what this is," the French champion muttered before casting a familiar to Harry's ocular spell, after which he quietened for a minute, his eyes shifting constantly, regarding the obstacle before him while the Hogwarts champions were also trying to figure out the solution.
Not ten seconds later, he nodded resolutely and walked briskly forwards, right into the invisible cave. After sharing a glance, Harry and Reinth followed him.
The "cave" was constantly changing its shape, so they had to take care not to walk into the walls – and for Reinth, who had not mastered any way to see magic, it meant him grabbing onto Harry and matching his movement.
Other than that, this obstacle seemed easy. Too easy.
Harry's danger-sense was tingling, and he didn't know why. As they were advancing, the walls seemed more solid and grew closer, making the boy feel slightly claustrophobic. He grew tense, started glancing in every direction. Finally, he turned his head around and understood just what the organisers had in mind when they were designing this challenge.
"Run!"
He broke off into a sprint, a healthy amount of fear giving him a boost he desperately needed. He barely heard the sound of Reinth's feet as the older teen followed him as closely as possible, all his attention was kept by the danger behind and the steadily tightening tunnel ahead. The magic around him was almost completely in the visible spectrum now, which helped a bit.
When he finally burst out of the tunnel on the other side, his heart was beating so loudly he could swear he heard the echo. His breath came out in short bursts. But the worst thing was that he knew it wasn't just from the physical exertion.
"What freaked you out, Potter? You completely lost it back there…"
Harry threw a dirty look at Reinth, who just now exited the narrow path.
"The walls were trying to eat us. I think my reaction was completely justified."
"Ah, so that was what it was… I didn't have time to look back, and now that I think about it, it might have been for the best. And… where's the Frenchie?"
Harry blinked and looked forward.
Before them stood a large wooden structure that completely obstructed the passage. If Harry was asked to describe it, he would go with "Ugly, boxy, looks like a pile of books, and not a neat one". There was also a large door right in front.
There was no enchantments in sight. Except… Harry smirked slightly.
"After you."
"Who do you take me for, an idiot? You know the mage-sight, so it is more logical for you to go first. Come on, Gryffindors forward!"
"Oh, very well, ruin my fun," the younger teen cautiously approached the door and flicked a couple of charms on the ground before it. The innocent-looking grass suddenly went pitch-black and vanished.
"Nothing harmful," Harry explained at the accusing look, "just a flash-stop charm."
Reinth glanced at the sturdy door and nodded. The flash-stop charm completely halted your forward momentum, which in current circumstances would have stopped a running person and staggered them for a couple of seconds to give the following people a chance to shorten the distance between them.
The duo of temporary allies walked warily into the structure. It was well-lit and rather empty inside. The only thing that attracted attention was a raised dais in the middle, on which four chests stood. One lid was ajar.
"Aletha wasn't here," Harry noted.
"Or Mordeau went missing in that weird tunnel. We'll know soon enough which."
Harry approached the chests and eyed them warily. The first Task instilled in him a deep suspicion regarding innocent-looking containers. Cautiously, he opened the chest closest to him and was rewarded by something blowing up right in his face, throwing him a couple of meters back.
Stunned, he shook off the cobwebs in his head and stared ahead. From the chest, rose a very unlikely figure.
"Hermione?" the teen muttered questioningly. I seem to have hit my head stronger than I thought.
"You have tried hard, I admit," the figure wearing his friend's face said snootily, stepping out of the chest. She was visibly older than fifteen, though, which boggled Harry's mind and made him question just what kind of apparition was before him. His question, however, was immediately solved by the faux-Hermione's next words. "But it was for naught. You were born mediocre, Harry. That Halloween convinced everyone that you were actually someone remarkable, a hero." She sneered. "However, you and I both know that it isn't true. It is no wonder you will die alone. Even Ron and I had to go live our own lives – you would just slow us down. You were, are, and always will be a completely usual man."
"Not if I have anything to say about this," Harry hissed through his teeth, infuriated tremendously, almost quaking in his boots out of pent-up emotion. "Riddikulus!"
His anger-fuelled spell impacted the boggart with the force of a freight train, wiping its features and turning it into a weird glob of grey wispy matter. Harry blew an explosive breath and staggered closer to the chest, ignoring the low whistle from his side.
"Damn…"
"Not. One. Word."
"As long as you keep silent about what my boggart shows to be, I will do the same," Reinth suggested. Harry nodded silently, bending forwards to take the bronze ring that he was supposed to bring to the finish line.
"I'm going to open it. Get back, will you?"
With the explosion that occurred the moment he opened the lid in mind, Harry hurriedly retreated to the door forward and turned back slightly so that to see what would appear. Reinth bit his lip, summoned a shield and twitched his wand upwards.
The chest exploded with a deafening roar, a column of flame bursting out in a vaguely humanoid shape.
"Riddikulus!" Reinth shouted, pointing his wand at the enraged creature. It stopped for a moment and regarded him quietly, the howl of the fires quietening down to hissing and spitting of a standard bonfire.
"It's not a boggart," the Slytherin noted in a detached voice.
"Then what is it?"
"A fire elemental. Bug out. Slowly. Don't make any sudden moves."
Harry's eyes boggled. Elementals were very, very rare creatures that appeared only nearby a crossing of multiple ley lines, where unstable magic bubbled chaotically and wove itself in strange patterns, giving birth to half-sentient embodiments of various elements. Hogwarts was placed at one of the only places of triple ley intersection in Northern Europe, but its wards stabilised the mana streams and prevented elementals from being born.
Needless to say, elementals were rather powerful: unstable magic that created them bestowed upon them the gift of nearly absolute control over their respective elements and just enough intelligence to make them dangerous.
Harry slowly reached out behind him and grasped the handle. Then, he quietly turned it.
The figure of flame didn't react aside from a weird gesture with its left arm.
Harry opened the door.
The moment he did, however, the elemental blazed and roared, twisting around and throwing a fireball in his direction. Only an instinctive guarding gesture with his left hand saved the teen, as his enchanted glove conjured a shield upon which the tight ball of compressed flame detonated, throwing Harry out of the building with the pure explosive force, shield or not.
He hit the ground hard, rolling a couple of times before the inertia exhausted itself. After a brief struggle to get back on his feet, the staggered young wizard absently repaired his glasses and made a note to himself to think about charming them unbreakable to accompany the sticking, magic-seeing and anti-summoning enchantments already cast on them.
Where's that fiery arsehole and the Slytherin?
He slowly advanced (read: stumbled) closer to the building's door despite his better judgement telling him to abandon his competition to his fate and use this opportunity to get ahead. Unfortunately, Harry just couldn't find it in himself to just leave – elementals were really dangerous.
Through the wide opening in the wall where the door used to be he could see Reinth occasionally sending jets of water and icy spears at the elemental, which hissed, sputtered and answered with streams of fire that mysteriously never did anything to either the continuously casting Slytherin and the building.
Of course, the flame-freezing charms. He finally noticed that all fire the enraged elemental conjured was immediately met by almost invisible spells that for all intents and purposes neutralized it. Harry smirked at the obvious solution and pointed his wand at himself.
"Ignis Impervo."
A cool feeling streamed through his extremities, signifying that the fire resistance charm has taken effect. It wasn't as effective as Flame-Freezing, but it would still protect him from the heat, if not from the direct flame.
"Glasseano. Agua Erupto."
The first spell sent a huge ball of ice at the advancing creature, bursting through the red haze of superheated air around it with a loud hiss. The second sent a focused, continuous stream of permanently conjured water.
The sudden attack forced the elemental on the defensive as it surrounded itself in the cloak of fire, trying to shield itself. Smart, it was not – Reinth, no longer forced to constantly defend himself with flame-freezers, joined his schoolmate in dousing the magical monster in water.
After no more than ten seconds of continued barrage, the only thing remaining of it was a couple of charred rocks and a lot of soot floating in a small pond on the bottom of the room.
"Phew. That took… a lot out of me," Harry admitted, leaning on the door. "Shall we move on?"
"Yes. Heh. You got a boggart. I pulled an elemental. I don't even want to know what kind of monstrosity they prepared for the last champion to get here."
"Same here," the teen muttered, glancing at the last chest. The chest's metal bindings glinted innocently.
They walked on the trek around the lake with a brisk pace. Harry was frankly wary of what challenge awaited them next. In order to stop a fire elemental, he conjured water. There was a good reason conjuration wasn't studied until the seventh year: power requirements. Granted, water conjuration was generally the easiest, but Harry had to use the permanent spell to damage the flame spirit, so now he was afraid that he had to be as economical as possible in his spell selection.
The unlikely duo suddenly found their way barred. Out of the obscuring fog, a glaring abyss showed itself. A nearly vertical drop with no end in sight – the fog obscured the floor, if it existed at all. The other side was rather far from them: by Harry's estimate, approximately in twenty meters.
"How do we do this, I wonder?" Reinth kneeled on the edge and peered over it curiously. "Do you see anything?"
"No. It's real, not an illusion or anything. I suspect there is something down there to cushion the fall, but I can't be sure with the fog," Harry desperately wished he had already finished his work on the Cloak of Levitation. Alas, right now it was merely a half-finished project. The teen silently swore to finish it by the Third Task as such an advantage could prove invaluable. Like it could right now, for example…
"We need something simple. No fancy moves. I'm at half capacity and I have a sneaking suspicion they saved the big guns for the grand finale."
"Transfigure something to function as a bridge?"
"Too power intensive."
"Well, I don't have any good ideas other than that and simply Banishing/Summoning each other."
"Extremely bad idea, you know as well as I do that those charms and internal organs don't play well together."
About a minute was spent in silent pondering. Harry glanced at the iced waters of the lake and sighed. I'm really tempted to follow Aletha's example and just skate over the ice or walk over the ice…"
He paused and massaged the bridge of his nose.
"We're idiots. Levitate a large globe of water over to this side of the abyss, I'll freeze it."
Reinth looked at him like he was mad for a couple of seconds, but then his gaze turned pensive.
"Sure. It can work."
The work on an icy bridge was quickly finished. Made from large bubbles of levitated water and ice that Harry flash-froze, it was also covered with dirt from the shore so as to minimise the chance of slipping. They crossed the abyss without any incident.
The next challenge was a bit more engaging.
"So let me get this straight," Reinth drawled, looking at the swampy area in front of them with three clear paths on the traitorous surface leading into the fog. "The left path is…"
"It's fraught with danger, yes, but nonetheless it's short;
One should beware the consequence of bloody battles fought.
The gloomy lights in fog's disruptive folds
May lead you on or play with your disjointed thoughts.
However, once you've passed three challenges you face
The ash of mirth allows you the advantage in the race," Harry read, squatting near the large flat stone near the beginning of the left path.
"So, Red Caps, who appear in places where a lot of blood was spilled," the Slytherin summarised, "Hinkypunks and… Marsh Imps? I think that those were the ones who were able to cast something akin to Confundus."
"Yep."
"I don't know what the "ash of mirth" means, though."
"I do."
"You won't share?"
"Nope."
"Very well. Then the first route's for you, I believe."
"Don't worry, I'll wait for you on the other side," Harry smirked.
Reinth blinked.
"You believe that they saved something dangerous for the last," he stated, then clicked his tongue at Harry's nod. "Well, I share your suspicion. What's there on the second stone?"
"Read it yourself," the shorter teen grumbled, standing up. "I'm tired of squatting."
While the Slytherin champion was considering the other paths, Harry was half-heartedly trying to lift the fog that obscured his vision. In truth, he was waiting for Reinth to turn away for a moment. The reference in the verse – "the ash of mirth" – immediately pointed him at the small plant nearby, obviously placed there only recently. The sapling in question obviously belonged to the alihotsy, otherwise called hyena tree, the leaves of which were used in potion-making for their euphoria-inducing effects.
Once Reinth was no longer looking in his direction, a muttered Accio gave Harry the needed leaf, which he immediately tucked into his pocket.
"Alright," the other teen finally drawled. "See you on the other side."
Harry nodded and carefully walked forwards, his wand held ready. He didn't lift his head much, ignoring the lights in the fog around him. Hinkypunks were rather easily defeated – the little creatures loved tricking lost people by luring them to the most dangerous parts of the bog they inhabited with the mesmerizing lanterns they carried and various noises – they were masterful mimickers. However, if you didn't pay attention to the lights in the first place, they were harmless.
The real danger on the path he chose was the Marsh Imps.
Crafty and vicious, they were rather skilful in their own brand of magic, which mostly involved water manipulation, misdirection and trickery. In their natural habitat, they were dangerous.
The moment Harry heard the characteristic quiet, hissing chuckles, he cast Protego and quickened his pace. He knew the shield wouldn't give him absolute protection, but he hoped that it would at least weaken anything they threw at him.
He was mistaken.
One moment he was staring ahead at the faint path in the wetland, the next he blinked himself awake at the edge of the lake. It was most certainly not anywhere near where he needed to be.
Harry growled and looked around, the tip of his wand glowing the off-white of a pressure-based spell. Where are you, little fuckers?!
He barely noticed the movement behind a rock to his side when his wand moved on autopilot.
"Expulso!"
The small, spindly figure didn't manage anything more than a short squeak before it was sent flying arse over teakettle into the lake.
"Repello Magna!"
A wave of overpressure blasted off from Harry in all directions, throwing away a trio of imps that almost reached his back. The teen whirled around with a snarl and brought his wand to bear in a whipping motion, his anger pushing a bit more power into his next spell than was strictly necessary.
"Glaceo Colligato!"
The three imps that he knocked down, along with the two others that tried to help them up, were immediately flash-frozen in bricks of ice. Harry nodded in satisfaction and wanted to leave when he felt something sharp piercing his right shoulder, along with a weight of something else hanging on to his neck and his back.
"OUCH, FUCK! YOU LITTLE… DEPULSO!"
The last elf-like creature, evidently luckier than others, was promptly presented with a ticket to the Hogwarts Lake Spa Resort.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch. Episkey."
The bloody gash was quickly grown over by new skin.
"Hopefully Pomfrey has something for infections," Harry muttered, testing his shoulder and suppressing a wince at the stinging. "Who knows what that little bugger had on his claws … Now, where to...?"
After ten minutes of swearing and searching, he stumbled upon a gate in a high stone wall. The gate had a Roman number "I" on it. On a closer look, Harry found a strange cup fused to the door right where there usually was a keyhole.
"Ash of mirth, huh? Well, hopefully, this will work…"
The teen carefully put the leaf of the hyena tree into the cup and ignited it with his wand. The wet, thick leaf burned slowly, producing a lot of rather dark smoke, which Harry took care to avoid inhaling, as he believed that facing whatever the organisers saved for the last while rolling on the ground laughing wouldn't be such a good idea.
Once about half of the leaf was burnt, the gate groaned and opened with all suitable drama. Harry quickly stepped out.
And ducked back in, only just avoiding an off-red spell.
"What the hell?!"
"FINALLY!" someone cried. "YOU HAD THE SHORTEST ROUTE, WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?! I NEED SOME HELP HERE!"
Harry risked sneaking a peek and saw Reinth being chased by something that greatly resembled Aragog, but was even bigger and clad in red armour. The heavy chitin obviously slowed the giant spider down quite a bit, so the surprisingly fast Slytherin was able to evade it so far, but the massive monster was able to shrug off anything that was cast on it, and some spells actually ricocheted off it.
"WHAT HAVE YOU TRIED?"
"EVERYTHING! THE BASTARD DOESN'T EVEN HAVE THE DECENCY TO STOP AND GLARE AT ME! REDUCTO!"
The obviously overpowered spell hit the arachnid right in the face, to no effect other than an annoyed blink of the eight eyes.
"TRIED TYING THE LEGS?"
"FIRST THING I DID!"
Harry tsked. If it was too tough to take down and too strong to restrain, then maybe…
The teen smirked as he recalled the way Ron dealt with his boggart back in third year.
"Glaceo Grata!"
Immediately, every square inch of ground in the spider's vicinity was covered with ice, which caused it to immediately smash down, sleeting a couple of feet further on its stomach and start wiggling its appendages in a valiant effort to get up. All in all, the scene was rather comical, especially when Harry added a layer of soap to the ice with a household charm he took a liking to in Flitwick's tutoring sessions.
Harry was surveying his work with a most satisfied look when Reinth approached him.
"Well," the Slytherin eyed the arachnid, which started making motions similar to breaststroke. "This was rather inspired, Potter. Where do you get those ideas?"
"That? Just something I cooked up for an occasion of Malfoy-bashing," Harry answered noncommittally. "Shall we move on before it gets up? We're close to the finish."
The two Hogwarts champions edged around the jerking mass of chitin, which stared at them gloomily, and jogged forward in dispersing fog.
Not a minute later, they appeared at the large platform where the race started.
"AND THE HOGWARTS CHAMPIONS APPEAR AT LAST, FINISHING THE SECOND TASK OF THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT IN ONE HOUR, THREE MINUTES!" Bagman roared, his voice covering the noise of the crowds. "NOW, THE JUDGES WILL CONVENE TO DECIDE THE MARKS!"
Harry swore quietly: if they were just a bit quicker, they would have arrived on time. Blast those imps for misdirecting him. Oh wait, he did…
Once she saw the state of his shoulder, Madam Pomfrey hissed something decidedly uncomplimentary about the organisers of the tournament under her nose, bonked Harry on the head and started to work, still grumbling her dissatisfaction.
"What were you thinking, you Gryffindor, knitting your flesh after receiving a wound with something that was definitely filthy without sterilising the area!"
Harry was rather amused with the way she used the name of his House as a curse.
After she cut open the barely-mended gash, cast some spells that caused an unpleasant tingle, lathered his shoulder with an ointment and wrapped it in a bandage, Harry was finally let go to learn his scores. Reinth, having gotten off with a couple of burns from the elemental, was already outside along with Aletha, who stood there with her arms crossed and a stony expression. After a moment of searching, Harry noticed Mordeau talking to a girl near the stands.
"So, for how long do we have to stand here?" he asked nonchalantly, eyeing Aletha's damp shoes. She answered, not moving her gaze away from the judges' lodge:
"They have decided."
Almost before she finished speaking, Bagman's amplified voice echoed around them:
"THE FIRST TO RETURN WITH HER PRIZE WAS ALETHA GRAMM OF DURMSTRANG, ARRIVING JUST FIFTEEN MINUTES AFTER THE START. HOWEVER, AS SHE PREFERRED TO CIRCUMVENT MOST OF THE CHALLENGES, SHE WILL LIKELY FACE SEVERE PENALTIES. NOW, JURY?"
Dumbledore pointed his wand skyward, and out of it shot a long blue ribbon which turned into the number "6". Maxime wasn't as gracious and marked the girl's daring with a five. Karkaroff, predictably, awarded her an eight.
"Who is he kidding?" Aletha muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. Harry snorted.
"You tell us – he's your headmaster."
"Meh. He never lowers himself to actually talking to any one of us who isn't either extremely promising or has connections. I never had either before making it to the third place in the Europe Junior Duelling championship," she smirked slightly, but the smirk never reached her eyes. "Karkaroff tried to make some inroads afterwards, but I never answered with anything more than a polite dismissal."
"Was it just pride talking or do you just hate such people?" Harry inquired while Bagman was dealing with his parched throat.
"Both."
"THE SECOND TO FINISH WAS THE BEAUXBATONS CHAMPION, JEAN MORDEAU! HE FINISHED ALL TASKS FLAWLESSLY, ALBEIT WITHOUT DEMONSTRATING ANY EXTRAORDINARY TALENT. JUDGES?"
Maxime and Dumbledore awarded Mordeau an eight each, while Karkaroff coughed up a meagre six.
"How did you arrive first?" Reinth asked as Mordeau returned to stand with the other competitors. A grin was his answer.
"I'm very good at jogging."
"FINALLY, MARK REINTH AND HARRY POTTER DECIDED TO TEAM UP FOR MOST OF THE CHALLENGES AND DESPITE THIS FACT FINISHED LAST AND WENT OVER THE ALLOTED TIME LIMIT. STILL, THEY DEMONSTRATED THEIR CLEAR SKILL IN THINKING UNDER PRESSURE AS WELL AS THEIR KNOWLEDGE. HOW WOULD JURY GRADE MR. REINTH?"
Two "7" and a six.
"That's a bit harsh," Harry commented at his fellow champion's wince.
"Nah. I mostly just was there as a bait and dumb muscle, to be honest. It's rather humiliating."
In retrospective, yes.
"Don't worry, you'll have your chance to shine at the third task."
"HARRY POTTER?"
A nine shot out of Dumbledore's wand.
"That's… a bit too much. An eight, I could understand. Nine?"
Maxime granted him a seven.
"Eh, as well as could be hoped for."
The goateed headmaster of Durmstrang awarded him… a four.
"Wait a bloody second! That's just… damn."
Twenty points. That plus twenty four from the First task netted him second place overall. Not bad.
"Now, gentlemen, lady; what do you think of eating together?" Harry suggested cheerfully. "Hogwarts' kitchens are rarely visited, so we wouldn't be interrupted, and the elves will serve just about anything you ask – I checked."
Reinth shrugged indifferently.
"Sure, works for me."
Aletha and Jean also nodded their agreement.
"Anything, hmm? I wonder what they know of French cuisine that they haven't demonstrated so far…"
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