This one took a while eh? Sorry about that, but I wanted to start ramping up the tempo of the story. I just had to do it right. I think I did too, so I hope you all will enjoy this extra-long chapter…

Oh did I mention It was a PAIN in the ass to wite? Because it was. I kinda put myself in a bit of a bind with how "slice of life-y" the story was up until now. So I hope that I got the transition to a more adventure/action/romance story right.

At any rate, writing fanfiction is my "practice," but knowing that you guys have really enjoyed it so far makes me care for this story.

So THANK YOU.

Surrounded by nostalgic colours, she heard the long-forgotten words she ought to remember. Uttered with a fatherly drone at the edge of her focus; Her childlike attention span diverting her mind away from a crucial lecture and onto the soothing, dancing flames of the fire tucked away within the chimney of her father's study.

Parts of her mind desperately, knowingly, looked out for the sound advice given out by her father; like a bird caged within the realms of her past consciousness, while her younger self was lulled into sleep by the comforts of her home.

…

Wakefulness barged into her when annoyingly excited feet, hurriedly shuffled past the threshold of her room. Her door offered little protection against the bright-eyed mannerisms of her younger housemates.

A groan escaped due to the incessant coming and going of people beyond her door; then, another one, caused by the sudden disconnect from her subconscious. Like always, the mind kept its secrets with overzealous fervour, leaving Daphne with nothing except a vague idea of the contents of her dream.

A dream or a memory, Daphne couldn't tell. Twas too early in the morning to sit down and think about it. Enough of a challenge was it to will her body out of her bed as of yet. But as consciousness settled in, discomfort made her aware of the ridiculous position she had awoken in.

Facedown and arse up. Good thing she had her private room, otherwise the number of innuendos she would have been subjected to would have been unbearable.

She rolled out of bed unceremoniously, almost falling face-first onto the ground. She stood up, stretched and remained in the middle of the room for a good two minutes. She was groggier than usual; stiff joints and cobwebs in her brain, not unlike that time her eldest cousin had sneaked some of that drug that the muggles were so fascinated with into the Christmas party.

Her cousin… that was enough to sober her up in an instant.

Ancient and noble families never liked to admit that a squib had been born in their ranks. Hers was no exception. And while in life, her father had done all he could for Estoran Greengrass, her cousin, the boy had only managed to remain a Greengrass until two years after it became clear that he wouldn't be receiving a letter from Hogwarts.

He still occasionally sent her letters, her favourite cousin. Some times small trinkets, not unlike a pair of earrings or some other oddity. Some other times it was just a map detailing his current whereabouts; just in case.

She glanced at her desk, where she had kept and organised her correspondence during the year. There had been remarkably few letters from her cousin, although he had not neglected to send her something for her birthday. Just a pair of cheap, but beautiful, green earrings.

She grabbed them so that she could put them on later, just stopping for a minute to wonder why her mind was set on making her recall her family on such an obnoxious way.

Nonetheless, a glance at the clock on her wall spurred her to proceed with her morning routine. A week had passed since the last meeting with the Golden-Trio, but Potter had let them know about some sort of new developments regarding Moody.

So it was in and out of the shower for Daphne, sparing herself only a moment in the mirror before dressing up.

She half-stopped for a second to contemplate the somewhat newfound tightness of her brassier. A quick, cupping of her breasts confirmed that they were more of a handful than they had been at some point. She paid no mind to that as she finished dressing herself up for the day.

There was still something that felt odd about her room. Vivacious greens and silvers in the upholstery lining every conceivable corner of her dormitory; once they had carried a sense of familiarity and even homeliness. They used to be normal. Then, before that day of 'discovery'.

Rationality and intuition told her that danger lurked within the castle halls, forcing her to occasionally glance over her shoulder… once, twice, thrice. Despite that, passing through the common room, she almost felt at ease again; how bustling it was with normality. Horrible, incautious normality.

Nobody knew there was something wrong with one of the teachers. Once again, it posed a question. Would she rather not know?

A friendly greeting drew her attention away from her thoughts. It was Tracey, smiling at her while Theodore acknowledged Daphne with a nod, his arm leisurely hanging around Tracey's waist. Daphne returned the gesture, half-smiling just as she did when other people were around; the deafening sound of normality making it easier not to think. Another greeting came her way, an acquaintance's, and so Daphne greeted back without a smile. A first-year student hurriedly ran past her, startling her; she suppressed a laugh at the innocence driven antics.

Another glance at the clock, and she knew she had to hurry. A few extra steps took her out of the Slytherin Common-Room. And then she stopped. Her arms were filled with the absence of her books, or anything she would typically use to quell the anxious fretting that came with a free Sunday. The seriousness of the situation she was in slamming back at Daphne, erasing what normality had seeped back into her that morning.

She took a deep breath. One for herself alone. The kind of deep breaths one makes when one is about to commit to something meaningful. She began walking in the opposite direction of the main hall, purpose filling her steps. She too had noticed something worth mentioning to her allies in Gryffindor.

It wasn't a revelation of any sort, but it served to quell some doubts about the whole situation. She had had the time to do a lot of thinking. A lot of time to put things together in her head. The thing about being a silent observer, dedicating time and attention to the matter at hand, was that falling into her quiet and aloof persona had been more straightforward than it had in the past weeks. Even Tracey had stopped prodding her about the subject sometime after their meeting at the Three broomsticks. The fact that classes were in full swing again meant that spending some time alone was expected.

For that, she was grateful; some of the conclusions she came up with during that time, most of them regarding Potter, would be enough, she assumed, for even Malfoy to re-consider some of his assumptions about The Boy Who Lived.

Or at least that is how she felt.

And that was an entirely new issue.

There was something about scuttling around the halls of an ancient, magical castle in the early hours of the morning… And there was something about not wanting to be seen at it…

Giddiness was a familiar yet unexplored emotion to Daphne. All the while, pretending that everything was normal to the casual passerby was… fun.

Passages from her favourite books, similar in topic to the situation she was now in, sprung up in her mind and refused to stop. An agent for a greater cause, or and adventurer solving a mystery. When compared to the sense of normality and routine she had felt earlier that morning, she almost felt disgusted at herself. A typical, run of the mill day… Wasn't the magical world supposed to be exciting?

Such thoughts invaded her as she dove deeper into the hallways of the castle, nearly bringing a spring to her step.

Ridiculous as they may be, they accompanied her as she walked towards one of those parts of the castle that no one seemed bothered to use. And then it was just a matter of sneaking into the crevasses in the walls, following one of the paths that only Potter seemed to know about. And within a minute, she was walking outside of the castle, in the grounds.

Daphne sighed as the cold air of the morning washed over her. The hidden passageway she had just walked out of, blending right back into the walls of the castle.

She took a look around, letting a small smirk slip into her face. She was damn sure that walking out of the main exit to get out of the castle would be just as fast, but for some reason, she prefered the cobweb riddled passageways that Potter had discovered.

Ooo

As it turned out, not having to worry that much about the next tournament task, allowed Harry to pay more attention to the comings and goings of people around the castle, precisely the more exciting sort of people.

It was funny to realise that the Weasly twins were still using most of the hidden passageways in the castle, as they tended to leave trails of some of the components they used in their pranks. Running into them while picking a location for the next meeting had been just a coincidence.

It also turned out that most professors spent less time within the castle walls than he would have assumed.

Especially the fake Alastor Moody.

If there was a perk about having recurring nightmares, and therefore spending a lot of time at night exploring the castle, he noticed, that at some point during the early hours of the morning, the staff lowered their guard; assuming that most curfew breakers had already retired. Even if they weren't caught.

It seemed that the impostor made the same assumptions. And while following the impostor alone at night, wasn't the smartest of ideas, the few times that Harry had done it, had revealed some interesting things.

Taking advantage of those things, however, would require a lot of cunning.

Sleepless nights had another advantage, or more accurately, a silverling. With nothing else to do, spending the night at the library seemed as good an option as the next one, which was what Harry had done during his past outings.

The pages of a book, quietly rasping against the underside of his invisibility cloak was the only indication of his presence in one of the benches. After some experimentation, he had noticed that no light would illuminate his surroundings if it was cast from within his cloak. So he felt perfectly comfortable to spend the night reading.

At first, he had just been looking for a way to breath underwater, but as time went on, and as the books piled higher, he had begun to realise that plenty of the books in the library had some fantastic stuff written within them.

So there he sat, safely hidden by his cloak and jotting down some of the more exciting spells that he had stumbled upon during that night. A glance towards a nearby window told him that dawn had come and gone and that it was probably time to go practice the bubblehead charm he'd recently found out about. With a flick of his wand, he turned his things into pocketable sizes and then walked out of the library, cloak no longer covering him.

Unsurprisingly, some students were already roaming about, clearly intent on extruding all of the free time offered by a Sunday. Some of them still sent him contemptuous glances and some others yet commented about him in hushed whispers.

While challenging to ignore, he was more focused on reaching the black lake. The next stage of the tournament was drawing in fast, and he suspected that being able to breathe underwater was just the pre-requisite to the challenge; a way for the judges to determine if it would even be possible for him to win the second task.

As such, just like he had for two weeks, he walked away from the castle, heading towards the lake. In his journey to the lake, he stuck to the cobbled roads and stayed as far away from the grass as possible, since the sensation of uneasiness he felt nearby nature was still present and at the forefront of Harry's mind.

The long trek offered a brief period spent doing nothing but walking. And as such, some of his thoughts invaded him once again.

Things had gotten a little bit strange in recent days, ever since the investigation of the fake Moody had somewhat stalled out. While it was true that the impostor had taken a liking to wander around at night, they still hadn't found out anything too useful, much less had they gotten an idea about what to do once they found out what the fake moody was up to.

Because of that, Ron and Hermione had slowly drifted back into their regular routine, bussing themselves with school and chess-related matters. They still held meetings if Moody ever did something worthy of notice, but it was easy to realise that their mind was half-there.

Daphne, on the other hand, seemed to be the only one still engaged in the matter, and that was something that he wasn't quite sure what to think about. As much as he appreciated having another person within the group, he was uncomfortable with the prospect of dragging her into trouble, which's scope wasn't clear.

Not that it was apparent, but if whatever the fake moody was doing, was related to him or what made him famous in the first place, chances were that Daphne was unknowingly risking her life. Then again, it wasn't fair to keep dragging Hermione and Ron into it either.

There was also the matter of Sirus's sudden disappearance. When the impostor had been found out, Harry had gone to the Shrieking Shack; He and Sirus had agreed to meet after the ball. Instead of his godfather, he had found a letter. Within it, a hastily written scrawl in Sirius's handwriting read "I'll be back soon, pup."

Harry had thought it best to not try and contact his godfather for the time being.

The quiet sloshing of water making landfall broke him out of his musings.

It was a cold morning, and the skies were covered in grey clouds. With a sigh, Harry took off his coat and sweater, the more troublesome items to dry with a spell. His worn shoes and socks were left resting underneath a tree.

A shiver ran up his spine as soon as his feet touched the water, partly because of the cold, but mainly because being in the water felt plain wrong. Taking a second to adjust to the temperature, Harry readied his wand and cast the bubblehead charm on himself.

It was hard to tell if he'd gotten it right. Air being translucent, there was no way to see if the Charm had any faults. The only way to visibly see the effect of the Charm was to be underwater. That was something to keep in mind, as he was pretty sure he would not have time to doublecheck his wandwork right as the task was beginning.

So on the day of the second task, he had to get it right first try.

Shooting a glare of disdain towards the cold water, Harry breathed in deeply and submerged himself entirely. A second passed, and he resurfaced. The spell had worked, but Harry wasn't happy with it. A flick of his wand and he re-did the incantation, then, he submerged himself again.

Rinse-repeat.

Ooo

Potter wasn't necessarily the predictable sort of guy. Daphne had found out that much in the past few weeks. Some days he could be seen in the same seat, at the same bench of the library for hours. Some others he was a dark silhouette in the air, above the quidditch pitch; flying aimlessly for hours on end and some other days still, he could not be found at all.

If one were to look for him, not even breakfast was a guaranteed way to stumble upon him. But, for once, Daphne knew where to find him as he had told her during the previous meeting, that he would be practising a spell for the second task nearby the lake. All she had to do was ask. He was unpredictable in some ways, but not in a luny way.

It would make sense for him to focus his efforts on the task, given that it was only a couple of days away.

And that, in a way, bothered her.

In her way towards the black lake, she pondered about all the rumours that circulated about the raven-haired boy. Some were, surprisingly, not all that misguided, but plenty others were fabrications to the core, and those painted him as a rule-breaking rouge or as a loose cannon of sorts.

But her previous interactions with him told her that he was just someone that got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time or someone who was driven into some ridiculous situation by the consequences of someone else's actions. If what the golden trio told her was the truth.

And she was inclined to believe what she was told. Daphne wasn't dumb, and she was good at eavesdropping. What few details the Gryffindors let slip during their private conversations was enough for her to paint a clearer picture of Potter.

But an average person, under those circumstances, would be com-

Thud!

She felt the air leave her lungs as she collided with the ground, so fast that she wasn't able to brace for it. So suddenly brought out from her musings, she felt disorientated and breathless. It took her a second to get her bearings.

She was alone. Accompanied by just a small boulder that stood conspicuously nearby her feet.

Embarrassment crept up on her, so much, that the stony expression that she was so good at was tinged pink. She'd been so focused on Potter that she hadn't even bothered to look where she was going.

She stood up in a huff and looked around fiercely, daring any casual passerby to laugh, her hand grasping her wand firmly. There was no one else to witness her shame.

It was hard to pretend that nothing had happened.

Her mind didn't wander any more for the rest of the trek to the Black Lake, focusing solely on finding Potter. The sounds of splashing and the occasional curse were dead giveaways of his location at any rate.

She discovered his things first. Some were neatly tucked away on top some tree roots, and some others were casually strewn about the place. At first glance, Potter was nowhere to be seen, yet Daphne noticed the occasional bout of bubbles that emerged from the surface of the black lake, followed by an underwater flurry of movement.

But the water was still, too still.

The ripples on the surface seemed slow and reluctant to spread. There were no fish swimming away from the submerged Boy Who Lived, or curious critters swimming about. She thought about it for a second, wondering if the unnatural quietness of the lake was the result of Potter's attempts at underwater breathing.

But then she noticed.

Despite it being early in the morning, no birds were singing, and no bone-chilling echoes and moans were coming from the depths of the forbidden forest.

Memories flashed before her eyes. There had been no second-year students complaining about screaming mandrakes, and there had been no news of pixies rampaging across a classroom. Nobody had injured themselves during Hagrid's class.

Perplexed, she took a look around her.

All she found were empty cobwebs in the tree branches. No laborious ants were walking underneath her feet nor anything else for that matter.

The castle grounds suddenly felt eerily empty; the distant chatter of some of the students was not enough to deafen the unnatural silence that permeated her surroundings.

She sat down beside Potter's apparel, crosslegged and contemplative. She was not a Druid by any stretch of the imagination, but she could feel that something was out of place. She continued watching the lake, and despite Potter's underwater shenanigans, the surface remained mostly still.

Perplexed and slightly uneasy, she remained sitting there, waiting for Potter to re-surface. As she waited, the sky brightened and the chill of the morning was driven away by sunlight. Daphne wasn't intent on keeping track of the time that day, but as her butt became numb from sitting too long on top of tree roots, impatience crept up on her. With a sigh, she grabbed a small rock that was sitting nearby, one only larger than a pebble, and tossed it in the lake nearby the underwater Potter, hoping that the splash would attract the teenager's attention.

Once again, there were too few ripples on the surface.

A moment passed, and Potter emerged, not taking any desperate gasp of air and looking curiously around.

"The bubblehead charm?" Daphne asked out loud, setting her previous train of thought aside and focusing on the boy who lived, who had been looking worse for wear for some time.

Potter turned around, surprised at the sudden question.

"Oh!" He said with a chirp as he dispelled the Charm away from his face "Yea, how did you know?"

"You told me" Daphne deadpanned.

"Oh that's right," Potter said while wading out from the lake.

She noticed that while Potter had not ventured into the lake in an "indecent" state, his wet shirt and trousers clung tightly onto him, leaving little to the imagination. She turned her head away to spare him his blushes, nevermind that her eyes managed to linger on him a second longer than was strictly necessary. As Daphne looked away, the tale-tell the sound of a wand whisking through the air far faster than it needed to reached her ears. She smiled, knowing that Potter wasn't looking.

"Shit!" She heard Potter hiss under his breath

"Did you get over-enthusiastic when drying yourself Potter?" She prodded knowingly.

"Yea" He grunted while sitting beside her, his robe draped over him for warmth "Peeled away a good chunk of skin too" he added.

"Nervous about the tournament?"

"Nah, just eager to get out of the water."

Daphne nodded absentmindedly

"So," Potter began, "Yesterday you mentioned you had something to tell me about moody?"

Daphne nodded again, looking over her shoulder out of reflex.

"Why not wait for Ron or Hermione?" He asked, curiosity peeking through his glasses.

Daphne stayed silent and looked over her shoulder again, scanning her surroundings with more attention than before. Potter followed the direction of her gaze with his eyes, waiting for her to answer.

"Have you noticed" She began, once she stopped surveying the area. "That Moody is stalking you? In particular?"

Potter raised a curious eyebrow "Can't say I have" he admitted.

Daphne nodded "He's always there. If Malfoy decides to pick on you? He intervenes. If you get in trouble with snape? He comes to your rescue" She paused "I've seen him a few times outside the library when you are there, waiting. Sometimes he sticks around until you leave, some other times he goes in, grabs a book and sits… but his eye is always set on you; he never does it when there are too many people around."

"Do you think he's onto us?" He interrupted her, worriedly.

She denied with her head "He was doing it when you asked me for the book about dragons; you know? Before we found out about him being an impostor?"

Potter frowned and shifted his posture so that he could look at her better.

"How did you notice?"

She picked up on his tone. He didn't doubt her out of mistrust.

"I tried to remember everything I had seen him do, Potter. And I paid attention to him like we were supposed to?" She turned her head to look at him directly. "Because he's not the actual Alastor Moody!? Because we have no idea what his or her intentions are!?" Her tone was severe.

A sigh escaped her, and Potter muttered a pacifying "Sorry."

A second passed, and she dismissed his apology, having regained her composure with practised ease.

"At first…" She continued "I thought this whole thing had something to do with someone else. There are several people within this school with ties to functionaries or famous wizards. Several important families have heirs studying here too, like my own" She explained, feeling a shiver at the prospect of her or her sister being a target for the impostor.

"But!" She said before Potter could say anything "He is focused on you, Potter."

"Harry" he clarified suddenly.

"What?"

He smiled at her. "I think we are past the point of us using last names arent we Daphne?"

She stared at him owlishly, momentarily stunned. "At any rate, H-harry, his objective seems to be you".

Harry's smile faded away after she clarified the last bit. He looked up at the sky and sighed, tiredly.

It didn't take much to notice the increasingly weary appearance of The Boy Who Lived. Since Daphne had started her "association" with him, the bags under his eyes had become a permanent feature of his face; and his general appearance had steadily gone from shabby to dishevelled.

But it was when Harry had looked up at the sky just then, that the magnitude of his weariness became painfully evident to her.

He looked older, much older. It wasn't in his looks either, not really. None of her classmates ever looked like him, not even at their worst.

She wasn't sure how to describe it either.

Sometimes, when he thought nobody was looking, Professor Snape looked like that. During their previous years; whenever someone got petrified or had an unpleasant run-in with the Ministry appointed Dementors, Dumbledoor looked like that. Daphne's mother had looked like that for weeks after she was widowed.

For Harry to look like that at age fourteen was troubling, and it brought credence to the stories that the golden trio had partially shared with her.

"I should have guessed," Harry said to no one in particular, his voice vacant of emotion.

"Why? Do you think its because of… well, why they write books about you?" She ventured, measuring her words as best as she could.

Silence greeted her, and she thought she might have upset him. Yet he did not look her way; nor was he doing anything else other than staring at some faraway point. He breathed in deeply then shrugged.

"Most likely," he said with a fake smile directed at her. "I mean" he continued "When has it not been about it?"

She stared at him, wondering what to say next.

"So" she began, tentatively "Every time you've ended up at the mercy of Madame Pomfrey…"

"Almost" he answered, a tiny smirk protruding from his lips

"And those times you suddenly managed to amass an astounding amount of points for Gryffindor…"

He shrugged and directed a silent smile at her.

She looked at him and his smile. To her, his silence was an answer by itself; one that also told her that there was no need to clarify everything else.

A silence grew between them. Not one of discomfort but one born out of contemplation; both focusing on the thoughts that their previous conversation had evoked.

"I should get back to practising," Harry said suddenly as if he had sensed her need for some time to think.

She looked at him with her eyes only and allowed the smirk she reserved for her friends to surface.

"See you later then?" She asked as she stood up, wiping dried leaves off her attire while she did so.

"Sure!" He smiled at her and waved her good-bye as she walked away.

Ooo

Harry had tried hard to get back to practice. He really had. But his mind was full of more urgent things to worry about than a spell that he had almost mastered. And it was the prospect of another confrontation with Voldemort which kept him from the water.

He'd assumed that his second year wouldn't be the last time he'd come across the Dark Lord, but had half expected Voldemort to stop trying while Harry was still studying at Hogwarts. Without being under the direct supervision of Albus Dumbledore, Harry would be at his most vulnerable. So what if he had graduated from Hogwarts? Voldemort had been no match for some of the most competent Aurors at the time. Or so, Harry had been told.

Harry sighed and allowed the sun to warm his skin through the tree canopy; a small comfort. After Daphne had left, an unwavering feeling of uneasiness had settled in his stomach.

He really should have seen it coming. The set-up was too perfect if he was honest.

A dangerous tournament in which he had been unwillingly entered, nevermind the precautions set up by the authorities. At the same time, plenty of unknown wizards roamed the castle grounds mostly unsupervised… It was just too perfect.

Best case scenario? Paranoia. But when his friends were involved, he couldn't assume that coincidences were taking place one after another

What to do next? He pondered.

Then again, there was only one rational solution. If they couldn't convincingly oust the impostor, without needlessly endangering themselves, then the only course of action left was to prepare for the oncoming storm.

Ooo

Daphne should have guessed that becoming "friends" with Harry would have been troublesome, to say the least. It only took one day for her to become worried about the raven-haired boy. After their talk the previous day, Harry became hyperactive and was seen running around the entirety of the castle through most of the day.

She had to wonder what Harry was up to. She hadn't expected that reaction when she told him about the impostor's focus on him.

The few times he had run past her on her way to her next class, he would be carrying a variety of things along with him; sometimes books and sometimes magical equipment pertaining to the different courses imparted at Hogwarts.

What told her that the whole ordeal had little to do regarding the tournament happened during her last class for the day.

Ancient Runes was by far one of her favourite subjects. So much so, that she intentionally arranged her schedule to have it as her last class of the day. She had to pull some strings with her Head of House to arrange that, but she managed. It was something to look forwards to after the more dreary classes, and not having to rush anywhere when the lecture was over was ideal to have any leftover questions answered, in detail.

She expected the course to be a nice distraction from the admittedly intriguing shenanigans that Harry had been doing all day.

She was proven wrong when a sweaty looking Harry almost burst through the door mid-lecture. He didn't pay attention to any of the startled stares directed his way by her classmates and instead headed directly towards professor Babbling.

"May I speak with you for a moment, professor?" He asked the startled teacher. "It is important" he added as he handed the professor an official-looking letter.

Daphne glanced at Hermione. The witch had begun sitting nearby ever since they had become acquainted.

Hermione met her inquisitive gaze with one of her own.

"I see..." They heard professor Babbling mutter.

"Come with me, Potter," the teacher said as she headed towards the office annexed to the classroom.

As soon as they disappeared behind the door of the office, Hermione scooted towards daphne.

"Do you know anything about this?" Hermione whispered into Daphne's ear. As perplexed as she was, Daphne was not intent on breaking character in front of a classroom full of gossiping students. She gave Hermione a pointed look while she hastily scribbled a "No" on one of the corners of the piece of parchment she was using to take notes.

Hermione gave her a subtle nod and scooted back towards her desk. Daphne set her gaze on the office door, waiting for Harry to come back out it, hoping for her class to continue as intended.

To the surprise of everyone in the room, Harry came out of the office carrying a full set of the most excellent engraving equipment that the school made available to the teachers. Professor Babbling came out next and headed towards the bookshelves that littered the classroom, picked out several books, shrunk them and levitated them into Harry's pocket.

Harry promptly thanked the teacher and practically ran out of the room.

Murmurs erupted amidst the students only to be quieted down with a stern "Tournament business" from professor Babbling.

When the lecture ended, Hermione sprinted out of the classroom, presumably to find out what Harry was up to. Daphne didn't act upon her curiosity, figuring that she would find out eventually. As Daphne usually did, she stayed behind and clarified her doubts with the teacher, refraining herself from bringing up Harry's mid-lecture interruption. When she was done, she leisurely strode out from the classroom, allowing herself to relax since her classmates had already left.

Inevitably, however, her mind drifted back to Harry's antics during that day, pondering again if her conversation with him could have affected him that much.

She bit her lip in concentration. If she had noticed, she would have stopped. It was a trait she had acquired from her mother and one of the harder ones to repress.

A hand suddenly rested on her shoulder, making her jump out of her skin. Faster than she realised she was able to, she drew her wand and jammed it into her aggressor's neck. Her mind didn't immediately process who she was threatening with bodily harm.

The offending hand retreated from her shoulder and went up into a pacifying gesture. Only then did she realise that it was Harry who she had almost blasted across the hallway.

"Damn you, Potter" she growled soon afterwards.

"Didn't mean to startle you" He answered once her wand was stowed away.

"What do you want, anyway? You've been acting strange all day Harry" She asked, trying to suppress the irritation caused by the scare he had given her.

He didn't answer and instead started rummaging through his pockets. Shortly afterwards, he procured a handkerchief and offered it to Daphne.

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

"Your lip," he said, "It's bleeding" he clarified.

Startled, she felt the pain on her lower lip for the first time and caught a blood droplet with her finger before it could stain her blouse. Daphne took the handkerchief from Harry and put it on her wound.

"It's your fault anyway, but thanks," she answered, a little miffed at his attentiveness. "Although you haven't answered my question."

His demeanour changed; apologetic was replaced by severity.

"Is Hermione still around here?"

She denied with her head "She's been gone for some time."

"Right, I'll talk to her later," He said. Harry then looked at Daphne, his eyes becoming piercing as he did so; so much that his eyes almost seemed to glow.

Taken aback by his shift in demeanour, Daphne remained quiet.

A sigh escaped him, and she saw the nervousness behind the stern facade.

"Can you keep a secret?"

Ooo

Harry knew he was taking a considerable risk by showing her; but what choice did he have? She was a friend and had become an asset in the current situation. He reasoned that the more she knew, the safer she was.

Still, the whole ordeal that had taken place in that particular place of the castle was known by a few choice people.

Yet he had a plan. Half baked as it was, he knew that the only way he was going to come out on top of whatever was going on was if he adequately prepared. For that, he needed Daphne's help. And for that, he needed her trust.

Extending an olive branch seemed like the only way to go.

That is not to say that his current situation didn't have its silver linings. They were not breaking curfew yet, but where they were going needed a touch of discretion.

He did relish the brief flash of amazement the had passed through Daphne's face when he had revealed his invisibility cloak to her. So what if there were other ways to get to their destination? No one who liked women would blame him for hiding them both under a cloak that was a little bit too small for two people, right?

And showing her one of the aces that he kept under his proverbial sleeve was another way to build trust.

"The girl's bathroom? Seriously Harry?" He heard Daphne mumble. He gave her a toothy smile.

He led her, still under the cloak, towards the sink that he knew too well, and before she could say anything, he let his magic seep into his voice. He felt Daphne shiver at the serpentine language. But as soon as the floor began moving and as the rock ground against itself, he heard a tiny gasp escape her, and smiled.

Surveying his surroundings and making sure that nobody had been drawn to the bathroom by the noise, Harry removed the cloak from them with a flourish.

Daphne carefully approached the border of the hole that opened in the middle of the bathroom, mouth agape.

"We should go before somebody notices us," he said to her.

She turned around to look at him, perplexed. "Go?"

Not thinking twice, Harry jumped into the hole as he had done so several times already during the day.

As he slid down the grimy tunnel, she heard Daphne call after him in alarm.

Once he landed, he took a look at the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets. He had already done some "spring cleaning" which had consisted mostly on hiding skeletons and clearing rubble.

He approached the end of the slide and loudly proclaimed "Perfectly safe, I assure you" into the tunnel.

He heard a faint "What!?" echo from the surface. He waited in place, slightly worried that Daphne might not follow him. However, a few moments later, he smiled when he heard the panicked screams of Daphne sliding down the tunnel. He readied his wand, and as soon as the first glimpse of blond hair appeared from the darkness, he chanted: "Whingardium Leviosa!"

He cast the spell with all his might and struggled to oppose the momentum carried by Daphne, yet, he managed to prevent a possibly painful landing for her.

The girl opened her eyes to find herself floating and staring at a smiling Harry.

He set her down gently, and before she could start cursing him out, he grandly said to her "Welcome to the Chamber of Secrets!"

That shut her up promptly as her eyes widened at the implication.

He gave her a second while she looked around. He expected that reaction, after all. Once the skeletons had been removed and the dust had been cleaned, the entrance alone was quite impressive. Not that he had been to many ruins or hidden chambers in his lifetime, but one needn't be an expert to a appreciate the place.

"Is this... truly?" She asked as her eyes surveyed her surroundings.

"Mhm," He murmured at her while he discreetly hid a rib leftover from his cleaning spree.

"Ladies, first!" Harry said, pointing her towards the entrance.

Ooo

Daphne began walking towards the direction indicated by Harry. She made sure to glance back over her shoulder every few meters to make sure he was following her. Of course, she'd heard the legends of the place, as had everyone else; she'd also heard the rumours that involved her newest friend and the hidden chamber, both as an outsider and from the source. Yet being there made the whole affair with Harry intimidatingly real. Just seeing the nearing entrance of Salazar Slytherin's secret lair gave uncanny credence to the stories that the golden trio shared with her. That was frightening by itself.

When the door decorated by snakes was at an arms reach, Dpahen saw Harry step beside her.

Once again he spoke in the language of the snakes, sending a shiver down her spine. Most students had chosen to forget that The Boy Who Lived was a natural at one of the telltale magical arts that would brand anybody as a dark wizard in a second.

Before she could think about it, the door before her opened with a start. Yet she did not flinch, as her mind was once again running rampant with curiosity. Were she not in the "know", nothing could have prepared her for what she saw beyond the door.

The serpentine corpse, lying almost in the middle of the room, was hard to miss. However, she was not assaulted by the putrid smell she had expected.

As she passed the threshold of the large chamber, she took more than a couple of exploratory whiffs. When once again, no smells made their way to her nose, she couldn't help but send Harry an inquiring gaze.

The boy merely shrugged "Don't ask me," he said, "I did come here prepared to deal with that. But there was no need from the beginning."

He then looked at Daphne, somewhat startled " You don't seem... well, surprised."

"A basilisk" she answered the unasked question.

When he raised an eyebrow at her, she let out an almost imperceivable smirk. "You and your friends talk too much."

He seemed stunned for a second; "Fair enough," he said after a moment.

The next thing that caught her eyes was the apparent damage to the place. While the majority of the area had eroded naturally over many centuries, a lot of the damage was evidently fresh... a lot fresher.

"So it's true then," She said at Harry who had walked ahead of her.

"What?" Harry answered from afar, his voice echoing across the chamber.

"That you fought 'a beast' in your second year," she said while she caught up to him"

"Mhm," he murmured once Daphne had reached him.

They stopped in front of the corpse; she noticed Harry getting lost in thought at the sight of the beast.

He was rubbing his right arm absentmindedly.

"Not that I'm not impressed," She said to break him out of his trance. Harry looked at her expectantly; "But what does this have anything to do with what you were doing today?"

His eyes widened "Right! Come with me!" he said, heading to the opposite end of the chamber.

She followed, and as she did so, Daphne admired the details of the Chamber of Secrets. What used to be stairways carved into the stone had eroded to accommodate the shape from the beast that used to roam the ancient chamber.

Another look around and even more evidence of the Basilisk's imprisonment became more and more evident.

Harry led her into a set of tunnels carved into the walls of the chamber; where tremendous sights presented themselves for her. Old shed skins, scales and a surprising amount of animal carcasses; livestock, possibly kept to produce enough food for the growing beast. The deeper they went into the lair, the more equipment they came by, not too dissimilar to the one used by dragon handlers.

It would not have been evident to most, but what she knew from her father's profession told her that raising the Basilisk had been nothing but a labour of love.

Awestruck, Daphne missed the point in where they entered a torch-lit room, it purposes designed for humans and not legendary beasts.

There she saw a familiar pile of instruments, the ones she had seen Harry carry around during the day. Books about the courses imparted at Hogwarts were neatly stacked in a corner, and she noticed that several were years more advanced than the ones they were using currently.

She began to understand what the boy who lived was up to.

"Planning to take on the mantle of the heir of Slytherin, Harry?" Daphne asked jokingly.

She earned a small chuckle from Harry.

"Not quite," he answered, "I just thought that this place was ideal for us to prepare."

"Prepare?" she squinted her eyes, suspiciously looking at Potter "Expecting a fight?

Harry looked at her, the smile brought on by her joke disappearing from his face. Looking downcast, he shrugged. "I don't know" he admitted "But the last time someone untrustworthy was roaming the castle as he pleased, Hermione, Ron and I barely made it out alive... That was in our first year."

He breathed in profoundly "Quirrel, and I guess Voldemort by extension, were underestimating us that time; the second year, a memory of Voldemort almost killed Ron's sister and me, nevermind the students that could have been killed by the Basilisk." Harry stood and began pacing around the room. "Last year, dementors really seemed to want to keep my soul for themselves, and the only way I survived that was because I went to up to professor lupin and asked him to teach me to defend myself from them" he explained agitatedly.

Daphne listened quietly as she did her best to absorb the information that was being given to her

"And now, Dragons? Breathing underwater to rescue what I cherish the most? While someone is chugging polyjuice potion like it was water?" Harry shook his head. "The tournament was suspended in the past precisely because too many people died in it, and I looked into it you know? Not all the times it was the competitors who died in it."

Harry stared at her intently, his dishevelled appearance giving his rant an extra touch of severity.

"So if someone is going to die, it's not going to be Hermione or Ron, or you," He told her.

His last statement caught Daphne by surprise. Surprise at being included in his list, but also at the mental state in which Harry was in.

"When was the last time you got a decent nights sleep, Harry?" she asked him.

He stopped pacing around and deflated before her eyes, the steam that had fueled his rant having left his body.

"Last week... maybe," Harry told her as he sat down on the floor, catching his breath.

As she processed the information she was just given, the exit of the room became more and more enticing. The whole situation was sketchy and dangerous, not necessarily on account of Harry. But the more truth she found in his claims and in the rumours spread about him, the more frightening the situation was becoming.

She glanced at the exit, and then at Harry, weighing her options.

Her lips became a thin line in her pensiveness. A true Slytherin would not get involved. A true Slytherin would watch as the situation developed and turn it to their advantage.

And that is what she would do. It would spare her dangerous troubles, and it would save her potential problems with her mother.

It was the sensible thing to do. Based on what Potter told her, Daphne understood that the situation went beyond Hogwarts.

She turned around, Intent on leaving the room. As she did so, she felt Potter's eyes dig at the back of her head.

Her first step towards the exit was easy. It was the sensible thing to do.

Her second step was more reticent. Guilt at leaving a new friend behind.

He thrid step was hesitant. Fear, at not being in the "know" anymore.

Her fourth step brought her to a stop. "An agent of a greater cause, or an adventurer solving a mystery."

Daphne turned her head slowly to meet his gaze. "Wasnt magic supposed to be exciting?"

The Boy Who Lived looked tiered, exhausted in reality. "Apparently, The Boy Who Survived, really", she muttered for herself alone.

She took a deep breath while looking directly at Harry, the kind of deep breaths one makes when one is about to commit to something meaningful.

She extended her hand and closed the door to the room; that's how close she'd been to leave. A few flicks from her wand and privacy charms were set up to the best of her ability.

She turned around completely to face Harry.

"What do you need me to do?" Daphne asked the boy.

The radiant smile he gave her was one that she would remember for a long time.

Ooo

If anything, the days leading up to the second task of the tournament had gotten stranger.

Daphne and Harry's friends were the only ones who knew that The Boy who Lived had mastered the bubblehead charm. For Nevil Longbottom to approach Harry about Gillyweed, a mere day after Harry had lied to the impostor about not having solved the issue of underwater breathing, raised more than a few eyebrows within their group.

Another thing that was worrying Daphne was that the spectator stands for the second task were set up directly in the middle of the lake. It wasn't everyone, but more than one student was commenting on how uneasy the stillness of the lake made them feel. And although he'd not mentioned it with words, in the days leading up to the second task, Harry too had made evident his dislike for the lake's water.

She twitched in her seat, an unknown type of anxiety had settled within her, making keeping up the appearance of the Ice Queen extremely uncomfortable.

As Daphne waited for the event to start, she tried to focus on the books she had brought along. Damn that Potter, it was his fault that she'd fallen behind with her classes.

She couldn't even write correctly. Dreamless sleep potions were not easy to make, and her fingers had become sore after brewing plenty for the tormented teenager, at her own insistence no less.

Time went on, and she had managed to catch a glimpse of the small exchange between Harry and Nevil.

In the last meeting, they had agreed that having redundancy in underwater breathing methods during such an event was an advantage they could not discard.

"Studying? Now? Really Daph?" She heard Tracey call out to her.

Daphne hesitated to turn and look at her best friend, somehow sure that she was behaving quite more transparently than she'd like to.

She opted to force a smile at Tracey while trying to find Ronald Weasley and Hermione; the two had been mysteriously absent all-day, something that was beginning to get on her nerves.

There was too much going on for her to sit still, so she opted to stand up from her seat and go have a talk with Harry, to find out how he was doing himself.

She left without a word, ignoring the surprised expression on Tracey's face.

Unsurprisingly, Daphne found Harry pacing around behind the starting stage of the competition, a worried expression on his face.

"You have everything you need Harry?" She said, startling him for a second.

When he recognized her, he half-smiled. "I think so" he answered.

To his credit, he was looking somewhat better than he had back in The Chamber.

A few nights of good sleep would do that to a person, nevermind the pain on her fingers.

"Good!" she exclaimed, nervously breaking out of character. She stared at Harry, wide-eyed until she was sure he noticed.

Harry frowned unsure on how to react when he heard a voice boom behind him.

"What's this! A Slytherin cheering for our Griffindor champion? What Gives miss Greengrass?"

"No such a thing professor," she said "I was just taking a long way around from the toilets, sir."

"Of course; what about you, Harry? Are you ready for the second task? I'm confident you already figured out the issue we discussed the previous day?"

Harry's expression was a mix of a smile and uneasiness.

"Yes Professor Moody, Its all sorted out!"

"Good!" The fake moody boomed at Harry. "Make us proud out there, son!" he said, laying his hand on top of Harry's shoulder.

"Will do, Professor" Harry answered, hiding a grimace.

Daphne and Harry shared a conspiratory look between them; it was not safe to be talking when the impostor was around.

Wordlessly, each went their separate ways.

Barty Crouch Junior rolled the magical eye back to the front of his face once he's seen them part ways through the stand walls.

He growled to himself. Those kids were up to something, he was sure of it. It was no coincidence that they tended to disappear when they got together. More worrisome was the matter that they'd become harder to find as of late. Alastor's eye was not as useful in a castle filled with places that did not want to be discovered.

"What's the matter Alastor?" He heard Dumbledore's voice ask him.

"Nothing Albus!" He said jovially "In my line of work, one grows to dislike crowds!" He replied with practised ease.

"Of course! Was that Harry I saw you talking to earlier?" The headmaster inquired.

The disguised Moody turned to look at the meddling Hogwarts headmaster with veiled disgust.

"Yes! I do have a horse in this race, Albus!" He explained, cringing at his own act.

"As I do old friend," the headmaster said as he got ready to begin the event.

Nervousness didn't begin to cover what Harry was feeling. It didn't help that the impostor was clearly on the lookout for him.

There was still no sign of Hermione or Ron, and the event was about to begin.

The prospect of spending an hour, possibly more inside the water did not sit well with him either.

All in all, he did not like his situation at all.

However, there was a small comfort at seeing his competition fret in anxiety too.

Viktor Krum was the best at bravado, no doubt about that. Cedric looked skittish but determined, despite his anxious pacing on the spot.

Fleur, on the other end, stood stock still, eyeing the water with suspicion, sweat was building up on the witches' forehead.

He understood why. The fact that Veela were at their weakest in water wasn't that well known but after some days of serious preparation spearheaded by a group of people looking out for him, had brought to light that detail.

Despite her assumptions about him, he bore her no ill will and could empathize somewhat with the whole "drew the short stick" scenario.

Harry's attention was then drawn towards the booming voice of the headmaster. The old wizard had begun talking a while ago, but what caught Harry's attention was the headmaster's explanation of what precisely had been taken from him.

Frantically, he looked for daphne in the crowd seated by the stalls. When he found her, she looked back at him, wide-eyed. Indeed, neither Ron or Hermione was present.

Before he could focus on the task ahead, however, the roaring boom of the cannon announcing the beginning on the challenge, echoed across the lake.

Without thinking, Harry drew out his wand and cast the bubblehead charm on himself.

He entered the water along with the other champions. He'd never swam in waters that felt as unpleasant as the water of the black lake. The shock of the cold was instant, but more harrowing was the sensation that had been haunting him around nature.

It took him longer than he anticipated to adjust; when he managed to get his bearings, as he expected, Cedric and Krum were already ahead of him, speeding away into the murky darkness of the lake. What he did not expect, however, was to find fleur still near him, seemingly struggling more than he did. He'd expected her to be at a disadvantage due to her heritage, but he hadn't anticipated that the water would have the french champion thrashing around, seemingly in pain.

Moreover, the overall ambience of the lake felt wrong. While the two other champions had sped away in competitiveness, they had neglected to look at their surroundings.

Less fish than expected were swimming in the distance, and the vegetation that surrounds them seemed worse for wear.

Motion going past him drew his attention at the french witch; apparently, she had gotten over whatever had troubled her and was following the wake of the other champions.

Harry decided to do the same once she looked healthy enough.

The riddle from the golden egg had made it clear that the participants would be dealing with merpeople, so going anywhere else than the mervillage in the middle of the lake was a waste of time. Despite that, Harry was well aware of the dangers that lurked within the lake's waters. Swimming above the vegetation was a must if he hoped to avoid the Grindylows that prowled amidst the plants; And, while they had been told that the merevillage was at a safe distance from the giant squid's hunting grounds, Harry made sure to keep an eye out for giant shadows in the distance.

As he swam, an untold story began to appear before Harry's eyes. Ruins of unknown design began to litter the lake bottom. In the distance, he saw Fleur explore a crumbled tower belonging to the ruins, and he thought he saw Cedric further into the ruin field, exploring another structure.

It occurred to Harry that he didn't know the exact location of the mervillage. While the competition began nearby the centre of the lake, there was still a considerable amount of water to explore.

Yet, a faint sound in the distance reached Harry's ears; it was not too dissimilar from the song that had been recorded within the golden egg. It was coming in the direction of a large field of ruins underneath his feet.

Suspended in the water, he wondered why the other champions hadn't gone in that direction.

Yet, he was left with no other option but to follow his ears.

Ooo

As far as spectator events went, the second challenge was horrible. Most of the attendees had begun chatting amidst themselves a minute or so after the champions had become submerged.

Daphne had refrained from partaking in the ramblings of her housemates, pretending to be focused in her books instead. In reality, her eyes, casually, often wandered and landed on the impostor, who was sitting besides Dumbledore in the stands reserved to the teachers.

In her mind, whoever was disguised as Alastor Moody, seemed awfully pleased with himself.

A shudder through the stands drew her attention away from him. For a second, the crowd became silent, wondering perhaps if the spectator stands were about to crumble under their own weight.

Instead, they began to move as if they were ships moving with the wind. An announcement from Dumbledore came, explaining that they were just being repositioned towards the final location of the task.

Chatter resumed amidst the students; When Daphne's eyes were about to fall on the impostor again, a soft tap on her shoulder prodded her to look the other way.

It was Tracey, who was looking at her with inquisitive brown eyes.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on with you?" Tracey asked, her tone devoid of gossiping intrigue.

Daphne sighed and wondered what to tell her best friend; It was true that she had been somewhat avoiding Tracey. She wasn't unhappy with Tracy at all. But Daphne doubted that she would be a pleasant conversation with all her worries swirling around in her head.

As the makeshift barges continued their way across the lake, she turned towards her friend, half smiled and shrugged; saddened at the frown that appeared on Tracey's face.

If she were honest, Daphne would admit to being able to keep the impostor's existence a secret. But the whole thing with Harry might have been impossible to safeguard within her chest.

The days before the competition had been exciting ones, and were she allowed to, Daphne would have dragged Tracey to the Chamber of secrets in a whim. She would have told her everything that she had found out about The Boy Who Lived and would probably have dedicated an entire evening at correcting every rumour that Tracey had heard about Harry.

No. It was best that she kept her mouth shut for the time being

Ooo

Harry was painfully aware of his heart beating in his chest. The situation he was in was terrifying. Harry wasn't even aware of what was happening, for the most part, it was his first moment of respite since the spells started whizzing across the water.

He glanced at Fleur, who like him, was hiding behind a boulder at the bottom of the lake, wand drawn and breathing heavily into the bubblehead charm.

She met his gaze and nodded.

Harry raised three fingers and began counting down.

When he reached zero, both Fleur and himself swam away from their respective covers and began casting spells at the swarm of Gryndillows that threatened to take Cedric Diggory to an early grave.

Between them, they managed to strike several of the frenzied beasts, drawing their attention.

The frenzied creatures darted towards them, relinquishing their hold on the unresponsive Hufflepuf champion.

Spell after spell sped towards the charging animals, the water making it hard to aim and adapt to their movements.

Fleur was doing better than Harry in that regard, showing that years of experience counted as much as knowledge.

Panic began to take hold of him as the animals drew closer. One of them managed to grab the arm which Harry was using to protect the bubble of air stuck to his face.

The suction cups of the animal dug deep and hard onto Harry's skin, managing to draw blood before Harry was able to finally blast the creature with a spell.

THEN, there was an explosion behind him, and a cloud of blood and limbs engulfed him. When it cleared, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Fleur had managed to incapacitate the Gryndilows that had tried to charge him while he was dealing with the one stuck to his arm.

He gave the french witch a nod of gratitude, one that she reciprocated. However, she immediately darted away from Harry. He followed her out of reflex, only to notice that the remaining Gryndilows had not run away, but instead had returned to their original quarry. Cedric.

Try as they might, neither he or Fleur could hope to catch the much nimbler beasts in their element.

Both of them sent spells in Cedric's direction, hoping to strike the Gryindillows dragging the Hufflepuff into the depths of the abyss.

Without warning, what Harry could have sworn was a sea shark, ambushed the beast's clinging to Cedric.

A glance at Fleur showed that she wasn't really that surprised; Only after the champion was no longer in the hands of the Gryndillows, did Harry notice that the "Shark" had a human torso and legs.

"Krum!" Harry thought in relief.

The Drumstang champion, however, sped away as soon as he had done his good deed.

As both he and Fleur neared the suspended body of Cedric, Harry finally was able to think about what had just happened.

He shuddered involuntarily. Grindillows were supposed to be dangerous but not vicious. The ones they had just faced had eyes that didn't match the description of the bestiaries back in Hogwarts. If Harry had to describe them, those eyes would have been the equivalent of bloodshot in a human.

If he didn't know any better, he would say that they had looked sickly.

When he and fleur managed to reach Cedric, they were relieved to find out that his own bubblehead charm had held and hadn't been popped by the attackers.

Fleur did not waste any time and with a flick of her wrist, sent the champion back to the surface.

In the distance, they both saw Krum circle around them, his transfigured shark head making it impossible for the champion to stop swimming.

Once Cedric reached the surface, Krum sped away on his own.

As the Bulgarian champion disappeared into the distant water, Fleur and Harry shared a look of apprehension. Neither was eager to continue swimming alone in the Gryndillow infested waters. Harry was still bleeding from the arm, and Fleur was starting to show signs of exhaustion, her fiery nature unable to resist the inherent cold of the water.

The merpeople song was heard again in the distance, and both Harry and fleur looked in the same direction. Nodding to each other, they began heading in the direction that the chant.

As they swam, the song grew louder, and Harry was finally able to spot some of the mermen warriors, circling a conspicuously symmetrical algae field. Sharing a look, one of determination, Harry and the french witch increased their pace towards the water-dwelling people, both of them eager to be done with the challenge as soon as possible.

The song drew them closer to the aquatic plant field, and as they entered it, they both drew wands; ready in case of another Gryndillow ambush.

But no such ambush came, and as they delved deeper into the algae forest, more and more mermen began swimming around them;. At the same time, hidden in between the plants, the sheer numbers of the merfolk made it evident that they were reaching their intended destination.

Suddenly the underwater plant forest gave way to another field of ruins, one that had been redecorated with arts and crafts that would only be conceivable by those beings that lived underwater.

However, for a village, the home of the merpeople was, for the most part, emptier that Harry would have expected. While the number of warriors surrounding him and Fleur was significant, only a few of unarmed merpeople roamed the depths of their habitats.

Alarmingly, the few that Harry was able to catch a glimpse of, also sported the diseased look of the Gryndillows. The equivalent of bloodshot eyes marring their faces, their veins darkened and standing out amidst the pale and fishlike skin of the merpeople.

Both champions stopped when in the distance, they were able to spot the suspended silhouettes of humans. Both Harry and fleur knew immediately that they had reached their quarry. Fleur, despite being evidently tired, began swimming with the speed of a demon towards the captives, giving Harry the impression that she knew exactly who had been taken from her.

Harry too increased his pace.

When the captives were finally within his vision, he had to stop and had to think about why two of his best friends were held underwater. A part of him refused to believe that Hermione was so precious enough to Krum that she would have been chosen as his objective.

Yet, when he saw Fleur trying to cut free a smaller version of herself, with a sharp rock instead of her wand, he began speeding towards the french champion hastily. Evidently, fleur was too weak to continue casting spells. He knew that the most expedite way to free either Hermione or Ron would be magic. If his fellow competitor hadn't done so, it probably meant that her situation was far dier than he anticipated.

Suddenly, the water vibrated with the roar of an unknown beast.

Prompted by the sound, and unwilling to face more adversity, Harry sped towards the tied down Hermione, quickly releasing her from her subaquatic prison and immediately sending her to the surface with another motion of his wand.

Mermen warriors then began looking pointedly at him, especially the ones guarding Ronald, a message that Harry understood as a prompt to leave. With no sight of Krum, however, Harry debated whether trying to free Ron too was too bold an idea.

Despite the bloodshot stares of the mermen warriors, Harry decided to stay within the village. As he had told Daphne, he was done taking chances, especially when his friends were involved. If he had to lose a tournament challenge, then so be it.

A deep, bone-chilling growl echoed through the water, and the mermen all looked in the direction it had come from, alarm, written across their unfamiliar visage.

Harry turned to look at Fleur, who was almost done cutting the ropes which held the unfamiliar girl underwater.

Another growl swept past Harry, this time louder and more menacing. A roar that made Harry's body-hair stand in attention. The mermen wasted no time in swimming away in a panicked flurry, leaving Harry, Fleur and three captives alone.

Not spending any time, Harry cut the restraints binding Ron, and then swam towards Fleur. She managed to free her designated prisoner, yet lacked the strength to magically send her to the surface, instead, she was doing her best trying to drag her objective to the surface, propelled by the sheer power of her muscles.

Harry, afraid of what was to come, aided the french witch by sending her rescued prisoner to the surface the same way he had done with Ron and Hermione. Albeit, much slower than he had wanted.

A bout of pain, akin to a full-bodied cramp assaulted him, letting him know that he too was getting tired from the continuous spell casting.

He disregarded that feeling, instead, dedicating the last remaining bits of energy within his body, to free the remaining captive, a girl he recognized as Cho Cheng; Cedric's objective. Thankfully, the girl began heading upwards on her own, without needing Harry to spend even more energy sending her that way.

He looked around, trying to make sure that everyone had been released. Harry's eyes landed on the grateful yet concerned eyes of Fleur, who remained nearby even after her objective had been propelled to the surface.

Struggling, he gave her a thumbs-up, prompting her to leave.

The French witch smiled at him from within her bubblehead charm and began swimming upwards.

Harry did the same. Yet, as they began leaving the mervillage behind, another growl echoed through the water; much closer than before. Instinctively, Harry put all his strength into swimming upwards.

Both Harry and Fleur reached the limbo between the bottom of the lake and the surface. Worryingly, however, Harry was beginning to catch up to the french witch.

He intended to help her out in her final ascent and be done with the whole ordeal. But something unknown screamed at Harry from within him to move aside. He resisted the impulse at first, but fear began creeping up on him, allowing a tiny bit of doubt to invade his mind.

He caved in. Arms flailing desperately, he moved to the side.

Almost faster than he could react, a dark shadow swam past him, hidden in the murky darkness of the water. What he saw next was the visage of Fleur being dragged back down into the murky waters, held by a long tentacle, like a helpless rag-doll.

He tried to breathe in, intent on following his fellow champion back down, only to realize, that the bubblehead charm that miraculously survived the entire challenge had finally popped.

Stunned, he drifted aimlessly in the underwater currents for a minute. He looked up and saw that the surface of the lake was closer than ever. A primordial instinct of self-preservation invaded him, urging Harry to swim upwards.

But another roar echoed through the water, and Harry stood still amidst the water. He groaned to himself as he realized that he didn't have it within himself to leave the french champion to her fate. Holding his breath, he patted the back pockets of his swimming trunks, finding the mysterious plant that Nevil had handed him before the challenge started.

With only a bit of hesitation, Harry chucked the Gillyweed in his mouth and swallowed.

A second passed, then pain assaulted him. "Bad idea," Harry thought as pain gripped him in his neck.

Then, nothing. Out of reflex, Harry breathed in, the fresh air in his lungs driving out the remnants of the surprise pain from his body.

Then he realized that he was still underwater and that there was no air to be breathed in.

Yet, he breathed again.

The feeling of resistance against the newly formed webbing between his fingers told him everything he needed to know about Gillyweed.

Not a second thought was given, and he dove at surprising speed in the direction that the french witch had disappeared in.

The newfound acuteness in his senses told him where to go. The deepest part of the lake beckoned. Instinct told him how to swim the fastest he'd ever swum in his life. He dove deeper, pressure changes no longer bothering his body. Ruins, grander than the ones in which he had fought amidst during the fight with Grybdillows went past him; then, the growl of the giant squid reached him once again. Instinct made him swim faster.

The French witch appeared in his vision, suspended in the water, unresponsive; Yet, Harry managed to discern the bubblehead charm still attached to the witch's face. But, before relief could wash over him, the beak of the squid appeared from within the darkened waters, intent on swallowing his fellow competitor in one swift motion.

Harry cast a spell with his wand, which was enough to draw the attention of the giant beast towards him.

Tentacles then swarmed The Boy Who Lived, catching him in one swift motion.

For the first time, Harry was able to see the beast and its sickly visage; black veins popping out of its body like they had in the merpeople.

The beast was meant to be dangerous, not vicious.

But it was willing to slam Harry against the ruins in the bottom of the lake. Almost as if it was playing with him, structure after the structure was smashed by the tentacles restraining Harry.

Truly a plaything, Harry was sent into one of the underwater ruins. Yet, his new body was surprisingly resilient. Harry hissed at the pain of being slammed into the ground, but more so at the new cut on his arm, caused by landing on an old rusted sword, lost to time amidst the ruins of the black lake.

The tentacles of the squid lashed out at him again,

thrashing the ruins around him; Yet, Harry managed to pick up the rusted sword before the squid's appendages swept him.

Harry stabbed at the tentacles holding him with the fury of a man who knows is about to die. But the ultimate crush from the giant squid didn't come. Instead, the rusted sword, which became embedded in the flesh of the monster, causing it to thrash around, allowing Harry to free himself from the beast's clutch. With the newfound acuity of his senses, Harry sped towards the sinking form of Fleur, managing to grab her before the pressure of the lake killed her unconscious body.

After that, Harry didn't bother to glance at anywhere else but at the water's surface, unsure about the amount of time that the french witch had spent without a steady air supply.

A menacing growl echoed from the deep, and Harry was sure that the squid was after him, a belief that was confirmed when a huge tentacle emerged from the depths, intent on ending Harry and the witch amongst his arms. But Harry's speed was fueled by fear and the desperation of the situation. Sooner than he could process, fresh air assaulted his new body; and then the cold metal from the finish line knocked him unconscious as he landed upon the barges filled with his classmates.

The next update will most likely come with a revision of the first chapter, so do not mind the double update notification

So people have been suggesting to me the idea of a . Is that something you guys would support? Lemme know!