An hour long you
’
ll have to look,
And to recover what we took…”
Harry swam faster and soon saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. It had
paintings of merpeople on it; they were carrying spears and chasing what looked like the giant
squid. Harry swam on past the rock, following the mersong.
“
… your time
’
s half gone, so tarry not
Lest what you seek stays here to rot…”
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, Harry 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
as he swam past; one or two of them emerged from their caves to watch him better, their
powerful, silver fish 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 a very strange 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.
Ron was tied between Hermione and Cho Chang. There was also a girl who looked no older than
eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made Harry feel sure that she was Fleur Delacour’s sister. 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.
Harry 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. For a fleeting second he thought of the knife Sirius had bought him for
Christmas - locked in his trunk in the castle a quarter of a mile away, no use to him whatsoever.
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.
“We do not help,” he said in a harsh, croaky voice.
“Come ON!” Harry said 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 swirled around, staring about. Something sharp… anything…
There were rocks 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 Ron, and after several minutes’
hard work, they broke apart. Ron floated, unconscious, a few inches above the lake bottom,
drifting a little in the ebb of the water.
Harry looked around. There was no sign of any of the other champions. What were they playing
at? Why didn’t they hurry up? He turned back to Hermione, raised the jagged rock, and began to
hack at her bindings too –
At once, several pairs of strong gray hands seized him. Half a dozen mermen were pulling him
away from Hermione, shaking their green-haired heads, and laughing.
“You take your own hostage,” one of them said to him. “Leave the others…”
“No way!” said Harry furiously - but only two large bubbles came out.
“Your task is to retrieve your own friend… leave the others…”
“She’s my friend too!” Harry yelled, gesturing toward Hermione, an enormous silver bubble
emerging soundlessly from his lips. “And I don’t want them to die either!”
Cho’s head was on Hermiones shoulder; the small silver-haired girl was ghostly green and pale.
Harry struggled to fight off the mermen, but they laughed harder than ever, holding him back.
Harry looked wildly around. Where were the other champions? Would he have time to take Ron
to the surface and come back down for Hermione and the others? Would he be able to find them
again? He looked down at his watch to see how much time was left - it had stopped working.
But then the merpeople around him pointed excitedly over his head. Harry looked up and saw
Cedric swimming toward them. There was an enormous bubble around his head, which made his
features look oddly wide and stretched.
“Got lost!” he mouthed, looking panic-stricken. “Fleur and Krum’re coming now!”
Feeling enormously relieved, Harry watched Cedric pull a knife out of his pocket and cut Cho
free. He pulled her upward and out of sight.
Harry looked around, waiting. Where were Fleur and Krum? Time was getting short, and
according to the song, the hostages would be lost after an hour…
The merpeople started screeching animatedly. Those holding Harry loosened their grip, staring
behind them. Harry turned and saw something monstrous cutting through the water toward them:
a human body in swimming trunks with the head of a shark… It was Krum. He appeared to have
transfigured himself- but badly.
The shark-man swam straight to Hermione and began snapping and biting at her ropes; the
trouble was that Krum’s new teeth were positioned very awkwardly for biting anything smaller
than a dolphin, and Harry was quite sure that if Krum wasn’t careful, he was going to rip
Hermione in half. Darting forward Harry hit Krum hard on the shoulder and held up the jagged
stone. Krum seized it and began to cut Hermione free. Within seconds, he had done it; he
grabbed Hermione around the waist, and without a backward glance, began to rise rapidly with
her toward the surface.
Now what? Harry thought desperately. If he could be sure that Fleur was coming… But still no
sign. There was nothing to be done except…
He snatched up the stone, which Krum had dropped, but the mermen now closed in around Ron
and the little girl, shaking their heads at him. Harry pulled out his wand.
“Get out of the way!”
Only bubbles flew out of his mouth, but he had the 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 scared. There might be a lot more of them than there were of him,
but Harry could tell, by the looks on their faces, that they knew no more magic than the giant
squid did.
“You’ve got until three!” Harry shouted; a great stream of bubbles burst from him, but he held
up three fingers to make sure they got the message. “One…” (he put down a finger) “two…” (he
put down a second one) - They scattered. Harry darted forward and began to hack at the ropes
binding the small girl to the statue, and at last she was free. He seized the little girl around the
waist, grabbed the neck of Rons robes, and kicked off from the bottom.
It was very slow work. He could no longer use his webbed hands to propel himself forward; he
worked his flippers furiously, but Ron and Fleur’s sister were like potato-filled sacks dragging
him back down… He fixed his eyes skyward, though he knew he must still be very deep, the
water above him was so dark…
Merpeople were rising with him. He could see them swirling around him with ease, watching
him struggle through the water… Would they pull him back down to the depths when the time
was up? Did they perhaps eat humans? Harry’s legs were seizing up with the effort to keep
swimming; his shoulders were aching horribly with the effort of dragging Ron and the girl…
He was drawing breath with extreme difficulty. He could feel pain on the sides of his neck
again… he was becoming very aware of how wet the water was in his mouth… yet the darkness
was definitely thinning now… he could see daylight above him…
He kicked hard with his flippers and discovered that they were nothing more than feet… water
was flooding through his mouth into his lungs… he was starting to feel dizzy, but he knew light
and air were only ten feet above him… he had to get there… he had to…
Harry kicked his legs so hard and fast it felt as though his muscles were screaming in protest; his
very brain felt waterlogged, he couldn’t breathe, he needed oxygen, he had to keep going, he
could not stop –
And then he felt his head break the surface of the lake; wonderful, cold, clear air was making his
wet face sting; he gulped it down, feeling as though he had never breathed properly before, and,
panting, pulled Ron and the little girl up with him. All around him, wild, green-haired heads
were emerging out of the water with him, but they were smiling at him.
The crowd in the stands was making a great deal of noise; shouting and screaming, they all
seemed to be on their feet; Harry had the impression they thought that Ron and the little girl
might be dead, but they were wrong… both of them had opened their eyes; the girl looked scared
and confused, but Ron merely expelled a great spout of water, blinked in the bright light, turned
to Harry, and said, “Wet, this, isn’t it?” Then he spotted Fleur’s sister. “What did you bring her
for?”
“Fleur didn’t turn up, I couldn’t leave her,” Harry panted.
“Harry, you prat,” said Ron, “you didn’t take that song thing seriously, did you? Dumbledore
wouldn’t have let any of us drown!”
“The song said -”
“It was only to make sure you got back inside the time limit!” said Ron. “I hope you didn’t waste
time down there acting the hero!”
Harry felt both stupid and annoyed. It was all very well for Ron; he’d been asleep, he hadn’t felt
how eerie it was down in the lake, surrounded by spear-carrying merpeople who’d looked more
than capable of murder.
“C’mon,” Harry said shortly, “help me with her, I don’t think she can swim very well.”
They pulled Fleur’s sister through the water, back toward the bank where the judges stood
watching, twenty merpeople accompanying them like a guard of honor, singing their horrible
screechy songs.
Harry could see Madam Pomfrey fussing over Hermione, Krum, Cedric, and Cho, all of whom
were wrapped in thick blankets.
Dumbledore and Ludo Bagman stood beaming at Harry and Ron from the bank as they swam
nearer, but Percy, who looked very white and somehow much younger than usual, came
splashing out to meet them. Meanwhile Madame Maxime was trying to restrain Fleur Delacour,
who was quite hysterical, fighting tooth and nail to return to the water.
“Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she ‘urt?”
“She’s fine!” Harry tried to tell her, but he was so exhausted he could hardly talk, let alone shout.
Percy seized Ron and was dragging him back to the bank (“Gerroff, Percy, I’m all right!”);
Dumbledore and Bagman were pulling Harry upright; Fleur had broken free of Madame Maxime
and was hugging her sister.
“It was ze grindylows… zey attacked me… oh Gabrielle, I thought… I thought…”
“Come here, you,” said Madam Pomfrey. She seized Harry and pulled him over to Hermione and
the others, wrapped him so tightly in a blanket that he felt as though he were in a straitjacket, and
forced a measure of very hot potion down his throat.
Steam gushed out of his ears.
“Harry, well done!” Hermione cried. “You did it, you found out how all by yourself!”
“Well -” said Harry. He would have told her about Dobby, but he had just noticed Karkaroff
watching him. He was the only judge who had not left the table; the only judge not showing
signs of pleasure and relief that Harry, Ron, and Fleur’s sister had got back safely. “Yeah, that’s
right,” said Harry, raising his voice slightly so that Karkaroff could hear him.
“You haff a water beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny,” said Krum. Harry had the impression
that Krum was drawing her attention back onto himself; perhaps to remind her that he had just
rescued her from the lake, but Hermione brushed away the beetle impatiently and said, “You’re
well outside the time limit, though, Harry… Did it take you ages to find us?”
“No… I found you okay…”
Harry’s feeling of stupidity was growing. Now he was out of the water, it seemed perfectly clear
that Dumbledores safety precautions wouldn’t have permitted the death of a hostage just because
their champion hadn’t turned up. Why hadn’t he just grabbed Ron and gone? He would have
been first back… Cedric and Krum hadn’t wasted time worrying about anyone else; they hadn’t
taken the mersong seriously…
Dumbledore was crouching at the water’s edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the
chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort
of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore
could speak Mermish. Finally he straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, “A
conference before we give the marks, I think.”
The judges went into a huddle. Madam Pomfrey had gone to rescue Ron from Percy’s clutches;
she led him over to Harry and the others, gave him a blanket and some Pepperup Potion, then
went to fetch Fleur and her sister. Fleur had many cuts on her face and arms and her robes were
torn, but she didn’t seem to care, nor would she allow Madam Pomfrey to clean them.
“Look after Gabrielle,” she told her, and then she turned to Harry. “You saved ‘er,” she said
breathlessly. “Even though she was not your ‘ostage.”
“Yeah,” said Harry, who was now heartily wishing he’d left all three girls tied to the statue.
Fleur bent down, kissed Harry twice on each cheek (he felt his face burn and wouldn’t have been
surprised if steam was coming out of his ears again), then said to Ron, “And you too-you ‘elped”
“Yeah,” said Ron, looking extremely hopeful, “yeah, a bit -”
Fleur swooped down on him too and kissed him. Hermione looked simply furious, but just then,
Ludo Bagman’s magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump, and
causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us
exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks
out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows…
“Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was
attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award
her twenty-five points.”
Applause from the stands.
“I deserved zero,” said Fleur throatily, shaking her magnificent head.
“Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage,
though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour.”
Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd; Harry saw Cho give Cedric a glowing look.
“We therefore award him forty-seven points.”
Harrys heart sank. If Cedric had been outside the time limit, he most certainly had been.
“Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and
was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points.”
Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.
“Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect,” Bagman continued. “He returned last, and well
outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was
first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return
all hostages to safety, not merely his own.”
Ron and Hermione both gave Harry half-exasperated, half-commiserating looks.
“Most of the judges,” and here, Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, “feel that this shows
moral fiber and merits full marks. However… Mr. Potter’s score is forty-five points.”
Harry’s stomach leapt - he was now tied for first place with Cedric. Ron and Hermione, caught
by surprise, stared at Harry, then laughed and started applauding hard with the rest of the crowd.
“There you go. Harry!” Ron shouted over the noise. “You weren’t being thick after all - you
were showing moral fiber!”
Fleur was clapping very hard too, but Krum didn’t look happy at all. He attempted to engage
Hermione in conversation again, but she was too busy cheering Harry to listen.
“The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June,” continued
Bagman. “The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand.
Thank you all for your support of the champions.”
It was over. Harry thought dazedly, as Madam Pomfrey began herding the champions and
hostages back to the castle to get into dry clothes… it was over, he had got through… he didn’t
have to worry about anything now until June the twenty-fourth…
Next time he was in Hogsmeade, Harry decided as he walked back up the stone steps into the
castle, he was going to buy Dobby a pair of socks for every day of the year.
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