It was a good thing that Harry was already numb with dread, else the biting February wind would have chilled him to his core. The bottle of Gillyweed Neville had gotten him was cold in his near-frozen fingers while a shudder rolled up his body in response to a frigid breeze.
He stood at the end of the short line of champions on the raised platform at the edge of the Black Lake. Fleur stood next to him, her long hair wrapped in a tight bun at the back of her head. She shivered as the wind picked up and rubbed absently at her ankle with the opposite foot.
She had greeted him with a halfhearted wave when he arrived, and her focus had been on the rippling waters below ever since. Cedric held his wand in one hand, its lightly colored, wooden length trembling while Krum stood impassively on the other end, his vacant gaze locked straight ahead.
Ludo Bagman strode over from the nearby judge's table, wrapped tightly in layers of heavy cloaks. The warm fabrics taunted Harry as another gust turned his exposed skin to gooseflesh.
What was to stop him from freezing to death the moment he touched the icy water?
Bagman produced a thick, dark brown wand from inside the many folds surrounding him and pointed it to his throat. He muttered an incantation and stepped between Fleur and Cedric, out to the end of the short platform. He held his arms wide to address the spectators who sat in transfigured stands opposite where the champions stood waiting.
"It is my very great pleasure to announce the beginning of the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament!" His amplified voice filled the frosty air, prompting a surprisingly muted cheer from the other side of the lake. Whether from the distance or a frigid lack of enthusiasm, Harry couldn't tell. "Each of our four Champions was given a riddle in the form of the golden dragon's egg."
Movement from Fleur caught Harry's eye, and he saw her wave her wand over herself. Faint wisps of steam began to rise from her exposed shoulders, legs, and neck. He cursed inwardly. Of all the spells Hermione had him learn, he wished they'd thought to learn the warming charm. He felt like an idiot.
"In this riddle," Bagman continued, "they were told that they must retrieve something they will 'sorely miss.'" He paused, allowing the silence to stretch from the dramatic to the ridiculous. "However! They weren't told exactly what it would be! I am here to tell you all that it is not what they will be retrieving but whom!"
The chill wind was nothing against the icy stab of fear that followed the proclamation. The air around the platform grew tense, thick with anxious anticipation. Fleur twitched forward, her hands balled into fists, steam floating from her skin into the air.
Bagman held up a hand and gestured to Krum. "Mr. Krum, you will be rescuing Miss Emilia, your friend, and classmate. Mr. Diggory, your target will be Miss Chang, your girlfriend."
Cedric's exposed skin went ashen, then he squared his shoulders and nodded.
"Miss Delacour, you will be rescuing Gabrielle, your sister."
Her shaky exhale released a churning cloud of vapor.
"Mister Potter, you will be saving Miss Granger, your friend."
His ears rang and his hand strained against the glass bottle, the ridged top digging into his palm. He forced his hand to relax. It wouldn't do to start the task with glass shards in his hand.
Just like every year, the people he cared about were in peril because of him.
Again.
His fear faded to a background hum. He had to save her.
"You have one hour!" Bagman's voice cut through the air, his arm following suit a moment later. "Begin!"
Fleur was moving before the arm had stopped, a translucent bubble popping into existence around her head. Harry fumbled with the stopper of the bottle, the adrenaline burning through his veins doing little to dispel the icy numbness from his fingers. Two more splashes followed Fleur's, and he was alone on the platform with Bagman. The bottle finally relented its top, and he dumped the slimy gillyweed directly into his mouth and swallowed.
For an agonizing minute, nothing happened.
He stepped to the edge of the platform and peered down into the murky water. Hermione was somewhere in those depths, waiting for him. He slid into the water, ignoring the cold that greeted him. The water stole his breath as he submerged up to his neck and left him gasping. Finding no relief, he lifted a surprisingly steady hand to his neck and found gills, their flaps opening and closing frantically in the air.
Without another thought, he dove.
XxX
Her warming charm shattered against the frigidity of the lake. The water stabbed at her extremities with icy daggers, drawing her frantic motions slow with cold. She took in a deep breath of the stale air of her bubble-head charm and drew deep of the fire that burned everpresent inside her chest. It recoiled against the wet and the cold, rejecting the alien terrain she dove so recklessly into. Warmth came reluctantly, suffusing her arms and legs, insulating her as she dove deeper into the murky depths.
She swam further down with broad strokes of her arms, alternating with kicks of her legs. A voice in her head that spoke with the voice of her mother berated her for not thinking to transfigure her arms and legs into something more effective for swimming. It was drowned out by her singular purpose.
Gabrielle .
Her fire responded to her call, burning white-hot in a burst of fear and anger. She strained, using the newfound energy to dive deeper into the gloom. Ahead, she came upon a field of bright green weeds, their long stalks swaying in an underwater breeze. She paused her descent, finally catching sight of the sloped wall of the lake.
The plants sprouted from the mix of rock and sand in patches, growing more abundant as they followed the wall down towards the hidden lakebed. She followed the vegetation deeper, staying to one edge of the growth in an attempt to keep her bearings in the unfamiliar terrain. The slope gradually leveled off, depositing her on the lakebed alongside the forest of willowy weeds that stretched towards the sky somewhere beyond her sight.
' Lumos .' Her wand flared to life, producing a steady glow to light the dim waters around her.
The weeds beside her rippled a response, their stalks swaying in a sudden unseen current. Strands of hair floated in her periphery and she cursed, the word falling flat in the bubble surrounding her head. She kicked off the sandy bottom, her wand held aloft as she pushed deeper into the unknown waters.
Pins and needles stabbed through to the nerves of her fingers and she grit her teeth, drinking in more of her flame. It resisted, smoldering embers against what had been the roaring fire of before.
Stubborn thing.
With a sharp breath, feeling returned to her fingers and toes, and she redoubled her efforts. A frantic, powerful kick sent her lunging forward, her hair finally falling free of its bun, streaming behind her.
The end of the weedy patch materialized through the murky water and she touched her foot to the bottom, kicking off again. The sand shifted beneath her, her committed momentum throwing her to the side instead of forward. The slimy plants parted as she fell through the verdant wall.
Panicked, she thrust out an arm in an effort to right herself. Her grasp on her flame faltered at the shock, and it began to gutter.
Panic turned to horror as tiny sharp claws reached back.
XxX
Harry waved a bubbly goodbye to Myrtle and with a strong kick of his webbed feet, shot off toward the Merpeople's village. Water pulled at his eyelids as he propelled himself forward with a steady beat of his legs. He peered down into the darkness below, his altered vision allowing him bare glimpses of the lakebed. He spotted the cluster of rocks to his left that Myrtle had indicated as his marker for turning to his right so as not to overshoot the hard-to-find village. A flash of light to his left caught his attention. Down at the bottom of the lake, in the weeds Myrtle had warned him away from, spellfire burst through the plants, illuminating a nightmare below him.
Small pale monsters swarmed from the forest of plants, arms outstretched towards a thrashing form. A red burst of light shot from the end of her wand, impacting against one of the creatures. It went limp, floating still in the water. Another of the things pushed it out of its way and reached towards Fleur, its horrible little hands grasping for her hair as she spun and kicked. Her foot smashed into the head of the nearest monster, sending it floating away dazed. Blood streamed behind her foot as she drew it back and Harry saw her falter.
He kicked hard, propelling himself toward her, his wand extended in front of him. She slashed her wand through the water in front of her, the resistance making her movement sluggish. A light-green spell arced from her wand, severing limbs and torsos off the beasts as it passed. A swath of cut weeds floated away, rising to the surface.
Creatures poured from the weeds like blood from a wound, pointed teeth bared as they lunged for Fleur. Harry thrust his wand forward, gurgling the incantations into the water. Despite being unintelligible to his ears, stunning spells spilled onto the creatures from above, partially halting their advance on his friend.
Three of them pushed forward, continuing their attack on Fleur. Her retaliatory spell flew wide as one of them grabbed onto her hair and yanked her head to the side with a strength belying its size.
With a swipe of his wand, he sent a stunner at the stragglers. The red burst of light missed and impacted the lakebed, kicking up a burst of sand as it hit.
Moments later, a flash of light preceded a wave that spun Harry through the water, end over end. He kicked, instincts instilled by the gillyweed guiding him as he righted himself.
Below him, the creatures floated in the water, either stunned or dead. He looked around to find the cluster of rocks to regain his bearings, then gestured wildly to get Fleur's attention. Once she was looking, he pointed in the direction of the village and they set off together.
Fleur's kicks were steady but lethargic, her face a mask of stubborn determination. Faint ribbons of blood trailed behind her as she swam, diffusing in the wake of her kick.
They swam across the bottom of the Black Lake, Fleur kicking three times to each one of Harry's. She stopped him with a quick tap on his leg and waved her wand in a familiar motion across her body. Her eyes went wide behind her bubble and she tried the motion again. With a grimace, she propelled herself forward, her wand clutched tight in her hand.
Harry kicked after her, spying the jagged gash on her foot from one of those creatures' horns. The sharp tang of blood flavored his mouth as he swam forward to catch up with her. He set his jaw. If she could swim in the freezing water with a wound in her foot, he wasn't about to complain about the taste of blood in the water.
The underwater village materialized piecemeal in front of them, each misshapen domicile drifting into view as they swam along the bottom. A few of the houses had Merpeople floating in front with some children hidden behind adults, their big yellow eyes following them as they passed. As they neared the center, four obelisks appeared from the gloom, each with a person tied to the front by thick knotted ropes.
Hermione floated next to a young girl who could only be Fleur's sister, matching silvery hair floating listlessly in the water. A shift of violent movement at his side drew his attention as Fleur shot forward, her features screwed into a rictus of fury. The fatigue that had plagued her movements before was gone, her bright blue eyes alight with angry purpose. With a sharp motion slowed by the water, she moved to cut her sister free.
The light green spell flew wide as a jet of red burst against the ground between them, kicking up a cloud of sand. Another two followed moments after, completely obscuring the hostages, and Fleur, from his view. He pointed his wand blindly up, sending a burst of his own stunning spells in retaliation. Various hues flashed beside him, reflected through the sand surrounding them. If the colors were to be believed, Fleur was being far less kind in her return volley than he had been.
More bright red streaks thumped against the ground, though their origin was growing far closer. He still couldn't see who was behind the ambush but he saw the flash of the cast move down into the cloud for similar cover. Fleur spotted it as well, a lurid pink spell slicing a path through the cloud of sand.
Harry kicked towards the obelisks. He could help better if he were free of the floating visual impediment. His shoulder impacted hard against the stone that held Cho tight against it.
He let out a grunt that burbled from his mouth. No time for pain.
He used his hands to climb the stone, pulling free of the cloud that grew ever larger with each stray spell. Once free, he blinked to clear sandy debris from his eyes. Flashes of light pulsed within the roiling mass. The side nearest the pillars cast a wide variety of spells, while the other sent primarily stunners in Fleur's direction.
Harry spared a glance over to where Hermione was tied, the top of her hair visible through the cloud. She would have known what to do. He rolled through the limited list of spells in his repertoire, as well as the few she had insisted he learn. Only one came to mind that would give Fleur a distinct edge. He thanked Hermione for her dogged suggestions.
' Depulso .' The words escaped in a mass of bubbles, but the effect was the same. There was a tremor in the water that originated at his wand-tip, and it pushed a hole through the sand, leaving a visible trail.
A bolt of red streaked through the opening, its wake pulling the short corridor closed. He trained his wand further up, to where he thought he had seen the wand flash that had originated the spell. Another utterance, another corridor.
Another. A streak of violet from Fleur.
Another, and another.
Finally, his casting bore fruit. His final spell exposed Krum, his head transfigured into that of a shark. He twisted in the water at the sudden vulnerability, beady black eyes spotting Harry.
Fleur capitalized, two pale red stunners impacting against Krum's midsection.
Moments later, the sand settled uniformly against the lakebed. Fleur was already moving to where her sister still floated, tied to the stone pillar. She kicked up to where Gabrielle was tied, halfway up the tall stone structure. Her movements were jerky, frantic, and as he pushed closer, he could see why.
Bubbles broke away from her charm, floating up and away toward the surface. The failing charm was nearly spent, only a small pocket of air lingering across her nose and mouth beneath a shimmering surface. She didn't spare him a glance as he drew close.
She held the thick ropes with her free hand, her fingertips blue from the cold. Tendons in her hand stuck out against her skin as she held it in a panic-filled grip. She placed her feet on the stone, standing sideways. Wand in one hand, rope in the other, she sucked in the last of her air, her eyes alight with fury.
The charm vanished.
Bubbles burst from her mouth as she cast the spell, her wand pointed carefully away from Gabrielle.
The muted green spell half-severed one of the thick ropes, leaving the other four intact. Fleur's arm swung up and she put her wand between her teeth, her hands fumbling with the knots that bound her sister. Fury faded into panic within her eyes, and he moved to help, his webbed hands doing little to assist her own cold-slowed fingers.
Thoughts whirled through his head, ineffectual spells listing themselves in his mind as he yanked at the rope. He glanced up as a noise began to issue from Fleur. Her porcelain skin, red from strain, pulled taut at her neck, the veins and muscles fighting her to draw breath.
He focused on the knots, forcing his hands to move faster. She didn't have-
Her hand on his elbow stopped him.
He looked up to meet her wide, pleading eyes. The whites were visible around the blue of her irises, and she shifted her gaze over to Gabrielle then back to Harry. She removed her hand from his elbow and pointed to her lips, tinted blue from the icy water. Her wand was still clutched in her teeth, and she pointed at his wand, held in his own.
He knew what she wanted. What she needed.
Terror gripped him and hurled him forward.
He grabbed her outstretched hand and wrapped his arm around her middle.
She strained against him, her hand still clutching the ropes around Gabrielle. She began to thrash in his arms, her features locked in naked primal fear. He got his legs beneath him and kicked off the pillar, tearing her hand from the ropes. She pushed against him, her strength waning.
He thrust his wand heavenward.
' Ascendio!'
Tension sprang to life in his arm and they began to ascend, pulled upward by his wand.
Fleur flailed in his grip, twisting and struggling in a frantic effort to return to her sister.
An elbow slammed into the side of his head sending spots bursting across his vision. He squinted, trying to focus on his wand outstretched in front of him and the faint shimmering light beyond. His hand curled painfully tight against her midsection and he gritted his teeth against the sudden pain in his back as her nails dug into his bare skin.
Sharp fire tore through his arm. He pushed the pain from his mind.
She pulled her hands from his back. Gave a mighty heave against him.
Twitched.
And stilled.
Icy fear poured in to replace the dizzying spots. It curled heavy and cold in his chest, growing more frigid with each limp brush of her arm against his skin.
Faster.
' Ascendio! ' he shouted, ignoring the painful increase in shear force. His arm and chest screamed.
He ignored them.
Faster.
He opened his mouth to cast the spell again and found himself airborne. The force of his rising spell drove them out of the water, shouts of surprise ringing through the air. Fleur fell from his grasp as he instinctively began to flail, falling back towards the water.
He hit with an impact that drove the water from his altered lungs, leaving him gasping. He spun, treading water, trying to spot where Fleur would fall. A second splash never came.
He looked up to find her floating through the air to a grim-faced Dumbledore, his wand held aloft and pointed at her prone form.
With a kick, Harry ducked back down into the depths of the Black Lake.
' Descendo!'
XxX
Harry flopped onto the shore of the lake, his arms failing to heave him fully from the water. He retched, water spilling from his mouth as the gills on his neck closed and sealed back into smooth skin.
Hands reached him, grabbed him under the arms, and pulled him free of the water's grasp. He sucked in a breath, he needed to know. Liquid pain spilled into his chest
Somewhere in the distance, far away from the constriction of his lungs and his burning need to know if Fleur was okay, he felt the impact of his limp arms back to the stone.
Voices churned around him, muffled as though he were still underwater. With a sudden smooth motion, he found himself in the air, his arms dangling behind him as he floated away from the lake.
The sky overhead vanished behind the fabric of the medical tent and he felt warmth begin to chip at the numbness surrounding his body. He lifted his head, scanning the large tent. Karkaroff was leaning over the now-human form of Krum, his beady eyes locked on Harry as he floated past. Cedric was nowhere to be seen, but…
There. In a bed at the end of the row, sat Fleur.
Her hair was wet, splayed out to her side, the tips hanging off the edge of the bed. Her father and a woman who could only be her mother stood on her left while Madam Pomfrey foisted a bottle into her hands. Her eyes snapped up to him as he floated by and she opened her mouth to speak. Madam Pomfrey interjected herself between them, one finger pointed at the bottle. She spun to Harry as Fleur lifted the potion to her lips.
"You."
He wasn't quite sure how she managed to convey a simultaneous threat and sense of relief all in a single word but the matron followed Harry to an empty bed, where Dumbledore lowered him to rest atop the sheets.
Sharp flicks of her wand sent three bottles flying towards her. He tried to sit up, to ensure that he had seen correctly.
Agony tore through his chest and arms. What-?
"-down, Mr. Potter!" Madam Pomfrey's hand was on his stomach. He peered down at it. "You must drink these. Now!"
A dark brown bottle was thrust into his face before he could wrangle his fragmented thoughts into a question. The foul liquid inside left a burning trail as it slid down his throat. The heat spread throughout his torso, banishing the lingering chill he hadn't realized was still there.
Another bottle, green this time, was forced upon him. He gagged.
"One more," said Madam Pomfrey, her mouth drawn into a thin line. He forced the drink down, unable to repress the shudder the bitter potion caused. Madam Pomfrey let out a slow breath, then fixed him with a softer gaze. "You shouldn't be in danger any longer but you will be very uncomfortable while your muscles knit back together."
As if her words were the catalyst, a stinging sensation rippled through his chest and shoulders. His skin rolling in waves as the muscles moved of their own accord. He pushed the pain down and focused ahead at Fleur, who stared at him with her piercing blue eyes, her cheeks oddly puffed out.
Madam Pomfrey followed his gaze and pointed to her. "When that potion has turned to gas, you've got two more to go. Remember, no talking while your throat heals."
Fleur nodded, her cheeks deflating. She pulled another one of the bottles from the bed in front of her and downed it with a quick motion.
Her parents moved across the tent to stand at the end of Harry's bed while Dumbledore still stood to his left. Madam Pomfrey fixed him with a look that clearly said, 'Stay put,' and moved to give the small group a modicum of privacy.
"Thank you," Fleur's father said. The deep confident voice Harry remembered from the World Cup was gone, replaced by a near-whisper. "You saved our daughter. There is nothing we can do to repay you for your heroism."
His wife nodded, pressing her trembling lips together into a line.
Harry waved off the thanks with a hand, though he regretted the movement instantly. Madam Pomfrey tutted from where she stood nearby.
"You don't have to repay me," he said. "It wasn't all that heroic, really. I think most people would have done the same."
Mr. Delacour's eyes bulged, his mouth working silently to form an adequate reply. He was saved by a soft chuckle from Dumbledore.
"I believe you are correct, Harry," he said into the stunned silence. "Most people would want to help, though I think few would find themselves doing so."
Harry felt his face heat. He tried to look anywhere but at the faces that smiled down at him.
"And though your actions were truly heroic," Dumbledore continued, his smile shifting into a faint frown, "there are some unintended consequences that we need to discuss."
Harry looked between Dumbledore and the Delacours and found nothing in the way of answers. He peered around them to Fleur, who shrugged her own confusion, the last bottle clutched in her hand.
"Simply put, I believe that your actions were sufficient to create a life-debt between yourself and Miss Delacour."
Fleur stiffened in response.
"We agree," Fleur's mother said, speaking for the first time. Her voice was deeper and less accented than Fleur's, despite her smaller stature.
"We will be accepting the debt in her stead," Mr. Delacour said, earning a glare from his wife.
"I will be the one to take it," she corrected. "A man of your position cannot carry such a significant debt."
Before Harry could reply, or even ask what a life debt was, a rasping voice from across the tent drew their attention.
"I will keep it," Fleur said, her bright crystal clear voice reduced to a shaky rasp. Her words earned another 'tut' from Madam Pomfrey and looks of shock from her parents.
"Fleur, you shouldn't-" her mother began.
"I don't want it," Harry cut in, shifting the surprised stares to himself. "Whatever it is."
"A life-debt is not an insignificant thing, Harry," Dumbledore said. "It can be quite valuable." He gestured to Mr. and Mrs. Delacour. "Consider where they would be without your actions. Where Miss Delacour would be. You have saved them all from such a dismal fate. A life-debt is not the onerous thing it may sound."
"I don't want it," he repeated. "How do I get rid of it?"
"You simply tell the debtor they are released," Dumbledore said. The smile he leveled at Harry sent small waves of pride rushing through him.
Harry turned to look at Fleur, who stared at him with huge, incredulous eyes. "I release you from your life-debt," he said, feeling foolish.
There was no rush of wind or the feeling of some snapping bond to accompany his words. Nothing happened for a long moment until a movement from Fleur's mother drew his attention. She wiped at red eyes and offered him a tremulous smile.
"Whether it is magical or not," she said. "We will always be in your debt." She took in a breath and let it out slowly, affixing him with a more steady smile. "I would like to get to know you better, Mr. Potter."
"As would I," her father said.
"Come," Dumbledore said, holding an arm out for the Delacours. "Let us allow them to rest. The hostages will wake soon, and we will all be able to return to the warmth of our rooms after a nice evening meal."
XxX
Harry climbed the moving staircase, each step requiring a herculean effort. It swung away from the landing up to Gryffindor Tower and he stopped moving, letting his shoulders sag. The motion disagreed with his sore muscles, though the re-knitting had long since finished. As it had already countless times before, the pain conjured with it images and feelings. Spots in his vision, Fleur's weight dragging against his arm. The knot on the back of his head.
The horrible stillness.
With a thud, the stairs landed at their destination. Harry jerked from his thoughts, surprised to find the landing he needed waiting for him. He hadn't noticed the first stop.
While he climbed the rest of the stairs, his legs protesting the quick ascension the entire way. Though the webbed feet had made swimming easier, his legs still felt as though they were made of rubber.
Silence met his shuffling steps as he continued up to the portrait of the Fat Lady, who swung open at his muttered, "Vulneratis."
He stumbled through the portrait hole to find Hermione waiting for him in the common room, a fire crackling in the hearth. She sat in one of the large chairs in front of the fireplace, her bushy hair as dry and wild as ever. A far cry from the brown halo that had surrounded her deathly serene expression at the bottom of the lake. Seeing her alive, moving, and reading...but if he had failed…
He sighed and tried to shake the intrusive images from his thoughts.
Thoughts of pallid skin. Of panic: violent and pure.
Blue eyes flashing with naked fury.
His hand tightened around her midsection against the struggle. His chest burned.
"Harry!"
Hermione's shout made him twitch in surprise. His eyes refocused from the murky gloom to find her on her feet, frowning at him. He took a shaky step forward towards the chairs and the warmth of the fire.
"Ron's down at the feast," she said, returning to her seat. Her gaze followed him down into his own across from where she sat. "He wanted to wait too, but he was getting cranky and I thought you might be tired."
Harry nodded his understanding, taking care to lean back slowly to avoid exacerbating his chest and shoulders.
"They say you single-handedly got us all back to the surface," she said into the silence. He again nodded his reply. She watched as he lifted a hand to massage his shoulder. "You didn't have to save all of us though. Didn't they tell you we would be fine?"
His hand froze in its ministrations and he let it drop to his lap. "The song from the egg said we had an hour. Then we'd lose what they took." He swallowed against the rise of emotion in his chest. "Nobody said anything about you being okay."
She leaned forward, a frown creasing her brow. "Then it's extremely noble of you to have rescued everyone by yourself," she said. "But Dumbledore wouldn't let anyone die in this tournament if there was anything at all he could do about it. He told everyone it was safer this year."
Without his permission, his eyes snapped up to her. They found her wide-brown eyes and held them. She flinched back.
She didn't know.
"He would." His words blanketed the room, bringing a chill despite the fire. Gentle but firm disagreement settled in her features. "He did."
Her budding speech died in her throat as his almost inaudible whisper. She frowned deeper. "Harry, I saw everyone leaving the tent. They revived us out front. I stood next to you when they announced the scores."
He nodded slowly, the indistinct memory of shouted numbers and cheers flitting through his thoughts. He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. The burning protest in his arms and chest dragged him back to the present.
"She d-" His voice failed him, the word fighting against its utterance. Teeth clenched, he focused on the rug beneath his feet.
Seeing the veins at her neck. Her pleading blue eyes.
"She-as I was holding her."
Hermione made no move, sitting stock-still next to him. A log in the fire cracked, spilling embers across the stone.
"She drowned," he forced out. He had to blink away furious tears.
One fell traitorously to the floor.
He tried to breathe slowly, to master himself as he'd done countless times before.
Slow in. Slow out. Push it away.
His exhale trembled.
Slow in. Slow out.
Why wouldn't it work?
"We got there at the same time." The words spilled from him, vomited up like water from his lungs. "She dueled Krum, then she tried to get her sister loose. Her charm was gone. She had no air. We tried to untie the ropes but I couldn't make my hands work right. Couldn't make them work fast enough."
He found himself wringing those hands. The very same that had failed her short hours before. He tried to let out a slow breath through his nose but it hitched in his throat.
"She looked at my wand and asked me to help her and I couldn't. She needed air, anything." He wiped absently at moisture trailing down his cheeks. "So I grabbed her instead. I tried to get her back to the surface.
"She fought me. She wanted to save her sister. The whole time we were rising she was fighting. Until…until…in my arms-" he lurched, fighting a desperate war against himself. "She di…s-she…"
He couldn't. The words choked him. Locked his throat around the horrible truth.
There was motion at the edge of his blurry vision as Hermione moved to the couch to sit nearer to him. He wanted to recoil. She couldn't touch him. Otherwise…
"It's okay," she whispered instead: a comfort almost as damning. "You saved her. She was standing right next to me after you both left the tent. She's okay."
He nodded, his jaw clenched tight against any further deluge of worthless outbursts.
Slow in. Slow out.
The fire crackled into the silence.
His hands released from their painful grip on each other.
"I need to go to bed," he whispered.
"Harry," Hermione said, pleading. "You should-"
"Goodnight, Hermione," he said, his voice controlled. He ignored her protests as he climbed the stairs and out of sight, resigning himself to the horrid forms his nightmares would take.
XxX
The door to her room clicked shut behind her and Fleur found herself at a profound loss. Her cloak slipped from her fingers, dropping into a pile on the floor. Though she hadn't eaten anything at the feast, it had provided her a framework in which to act, to exist. To not think.
Now she was alone. Gabrielle had been sent along with Madame Maxime, her parents stopping briefly to talk with the Headmistress. Fleur's feet had carried her away from them and down to the carriages of their own accord. Her once inviting room felt cold and empty.
She had managed a single shuffling step forward when her door opened behind her. Her parents stepped through and bundled her into their arms. The door closed behind them, and her mother let out an agonized wail. She began to sob into Fleur's shoulder, held aloft by her husband's arms wrapped tightly around them.
"I'm sorry," Fleur whispered. Her throat stung at the quiet words and she tightened her grip on her parents.
The pain in her heart overshadowed everything else.
She had failed.
She had fought with everything she had to save her sister, and she had failed her. As the icy water blazed through her chest, she could only hope Harry would save her sister in her stead.
And he had.
He had saved them both, tearing his body apart to do so.
A sharp intake of breath from her father drew her from her pain-filled thoughts. His strength flagged, and as one they sank to the floor. He broke then, a heaving sob bursting from him, prompting her mother to follow suit.
The deadly tournament faded from her thoughts as she clutched her parent's robes and began to cry.
XxX
"Y ou are most fortunate that you are needed. "
The shrill, alien voice pierced the room, making its two other inhabitants shudder involuntarily. One, standing next to a cold fireplace ran a hand through his sandy-blond hair, his filthy, half-breed wand pointed at the trembling man. The tip of the appropriated holly wand glowed with a cold blue light, exposing the cowardly man.
The snake coiled around the rat's legs, its tongue tasting prey.
" You will attend to me ," the voice said, a knobby finger raised to the air. " While others, more deserving of my favor, work to return me to my glory."
AN: It's been a day. Enjoy a second posting