I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Twenty-Six

"This seems like a bad idea," Amalie stated. Harry lowered his flask and stared at the French student across the Gryffindor breakfast table.

"Stick around. I'm full of. . ."

"You are not full of bad ideas," Amalie interrupted. "You are full of bad luck."

"Huh," Harry grunted as he took a long pull from his flask again. The woman's words struck a chord deep inside him. "Huh. You're right. I don't have bad ideas. I just keep being put in bad situations by someone else's machinations and having to come up with the only ideas I can think of. Does that mean I'm always right?"

"I think that question means you're. . .certainly drunk," Amalie countered. She glanced around the Great Hall. "They still aren't back yet, huh?"

"No," Harry replied. "I'm really starting to wonder what the Head Master needed to talk to Ron and Hermione about."

"They'll meet you there," Luna said firmly.

"Right." Harry couldn't shake the odd sense of dread clawing at the edge of his conciseness, but he managed to put on a smile for them as Cedric dropped into a seat next to Luna.

"Harry."

"Cedric," Harry returned.

"So, not to be creepy, but I've been watching you and you've been hitting that flask hard," the other man commented.

"So, I have," Harry agreed as he offered the container to the first champion.

"Thank you." Cedric took a long pull and frowned as he studied the flask for a moment before handing it back. "You also haven't eaten anything."

"If I ate, I would throw up," Harry explained, his mind on the horrible feel of the Gillyweed sliding down his throat. He almost began dry heaving at the memory.

"You're that stressed?" Cedric asked.

"Huh?"

"You know, this seems a little. . .overindulgent. We have the Head Master's word that this will be safe.

"I know," Harry agreed, "and this task probably will be safe. Our international reputation is riding on it."

"Well. . .that's certainly a reason to make sure everything runs smoothly," Cedric admitted, "but if you think that, why are you hitting your medicine like that?"

"Medicine?" Harry asked. He looked down at his flask in confusion. "Oh! No, this isn't my medicine." He tucked it into his robes. "Might have overdone it a little."

"I thought that tasted pretty. . .amazing," Cedric commented. "So, if you're not worried about something going wrong, why are you pissed?"

"Oh, this is the solution to the task," Harry stated.

"I didn't realized intoxication made bubble head charms easier to cast," Cedric said.

"Bubble head?" Harry asked. "Oh, bubble head. Yeah, the charm. Sorry. That took me a minute."

"So, you found something different?"

"You all decided on a baseline," Harry grumbled in a falsetto. "Don't you think there's a better way?"

"So. . .Hermione?" Cedric ventured. Harry grunted. "Then, Viktor figured something out?"

"Yup."

"Think he was trying to impress Hermione?" Cedric pressed.

"So romantic!" Amalie squealed. "It's a rare man who uses his brains to woo a lady. Well, I mean other than try to deceive a lady. It's a rare man who uses his brains to impress a lady."

"I kind of think that's the only thing that could woo Hermione," Cedric commented. "That or defeating her in single combat. One of the two. . .or both."

(:ii:)

Harry and Cedric made their way out toward the Great Lake and made note of the other champions standing by a table seating the head masters and, of all people, Percy Weasley. "Morning," Cedric offered.

"Whoever decided to make us going swimming in February is an. . .asshole, yes?" Fleur demanded.

"Perfect," Cedric replied. He frowned as her words actually connected with his brain. "Wait. Why are we swimming in February? I was so focused on the task, I didn't think of that. Who came up with this idea?"

"Holy shit," Viktor grunted. "You're right. You have summer in this country, right? At some point it does get hot here, right?"

"Right Harry?" Cedric asked, turning to the youngest champion. Unfortunately, the dark-haired man was staring at the Hogwarts head master with a rather disconcerting focus. Cedric almost took a step back before realizing it. "Harry?"

"Ron and Hermione said that you asked to speak with them," Harry stated, apparently having heard none of the champions. "Where are they?"

"How dare you speak to. . ."

"Shut up Percy," Harry interrupted without even looking at the redhead.

"I am here representing the. . ."

"I don't care Percy," Harry stated, finally turning to look at the man. The wayward Weasley froze as he met Harry's eyes. "I don't care about you. I don't care about who you represent. I care about my friends, one of which is your youngest brother. Now shut up or I will shut you up. Do you understand?" Percy sat down, diverting his eyes. "I asked you a question Percy. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Thank you," Harry said before turning back to the Head Master. "Where are Ron and Hermione, Head Master?"

"Your concern isn't necessary Mister Potter," Albus stated.

"This is Hogwarts. I am Harry Potter. I can assure that my worry is necessary. . .sir," Harry replied in a surprisingly calm, but rather creepy, monotone even as his breathing became noticeably faster. Cedric moved to his side, his shoulder brushing Harry's. When dealing with powerful adversaries, a united front was important. Viktor and Fleur moved in on his other side, all of them staring at the judges. A smile spread across the oldest Head Master's face.

"Mister Weasley is what you must retrieve from the lake," Albus stated. "Miss Granger is what Mister Krum must retrieve." They were silent for a long moment.

"Oh, I was wondering where Cho was," Cedric grumbled. "Well, we were right. They did go after something emotionally important, right Harry?" Cedric turned and felt a spike of worry. The last Potter was pale as a sheet and trembling, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his head despite the cold. "Harry?" The younger man's knees buckled and he collapsed. "Harry!"

"They can't. . ..they can't be at the bottom of the lake," Harry managed, despite his rapid breathing. "They can't be down there."

"It's okay Harry," Cedric stated. "They're down there and they're safe. We just have to go get them."

"They can't be safe!" Harry shrieked. "There's no air under there!" Poppy appeared in an instant on Harry's other side.

"Mister Potter, listen to me," the healer ordered, "you are having a panic attack. You are hyperventilating. Your friends are safe. You know that. Now look at me and breathe with me."

"I can't," Harry gasped. "I can't breathe. They can't breathe. They're underwater!"

"Okay. Where's your medicine?" Poppy patted him down quickly and pulled out his flask.

"That's not his medicine," Cedric admitted. Poppy whipped around on him.

"What?"

"Uh. . .well," Cedric managed with a nervous chuckle. "That's not. . .well it's not. . .uh." So this was why he went out of his way to stay healthy. He had forgotten all about it. Poppy unscrewed the cap of Harry's flask and took a swig.

"Oh. We will have words about this, Harry," she woman stated. "You think you're afraid now. You know nothing!"

"Okay," Cedric interrupted, planting a hand on the woman's shoulder and pushing her back. "Maybe less threats and more helping now. Violence later."

"Violence?" Poppy demanded, sounding scandalized. "Violence is for amateurs. I am a professional."

"Every month I realize that we have been living with the growing inevitability of the existence of the Mad Man of Hogwarts for years," Cedric stated.

"Excusez moi," Fleur chirped as she kneeled in front of Harry and grabbed him by the chin to haul his face up to meet her gaze. Cedric suddenly felt his mouth run dry as the already incredibly beautiful witch suddenly became the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "Better?"

"What?" Harry managed hoarsely. Cedric glanced at the other man. His expression held an almost religious awe as tears ran, unhindered, down his cheeks. He took a ragged breath and planted a hand on Fleurs shoulder. "You're too close." The French witch seemed to be amused by that as she climbed back to her feet.

"What was that?" Poppy asked.

"Harry may be a violent, paranoid warrior itching to unleash his wrath upon the world. . ."

"Not the world," Harry grumbled.

". . .but he is still just a man and I. . .I am so beautiful that its magic," Fleur stated.

"I'm supposed to be protected from influence like that," Harry growled.

"Oh, I'm sure you're protected from bad feelings, but Veela only bring good feelings," Fleur stated. "Well, other than jealousy, but that one is only tangentially our fault."

"I need to look into that," Harry said.

"Only you would be worried by positive feelings," Viktor stated, breaking his silence. The man had planted himself between the viewing stands and Harry the moment the younger champion had collapsed.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Albus asked, breaking the shocked silence that he fallen upon the judges.

"No," Harry said. "Let's get this over with. I have friends to save."

"Friend," Viktor corrected. "I understand your worry, but please remember that Hermione is mine to rescue."

"You can rescue her," Harry replied, "if you get there first."

"Maybe I'll rescue Ron while I'm there," Viktor replied. "He is a fan after all."

"This competition has gotten weird," Cedric commented. "Not bad, but certainly weird. Like, is this even a competition anymore?"

"Of course it is," Harry replied, glancing at the judges. "It's us against them."

"Fair enough," Cedric said. "Hey, if I don't make it, can someone rescue Cho for me. . .and then me if I'm in trouble?"

"And whoever is down there for me," Fleur added.

"Ludo, if you could position our champions?" Albus stated.

"Of course Headmaster," Bagman replied. "If you could follow me."

(:ii:)

Harry scowled as he kicked off his fuzzy slippers and dumped his robe and dragon skin vest on top of them. No one would tamper with them. Or, at least if they did, his vest and some of the things in the pockets of his robe would take care of themselves. "Are you okay?" Viktor asked as he stripped as well.

"No, but I'm better then you will be," Harry replied, eyeing the other man's swim trunks. "You do know that it's February right?"

"I found a new solution," Viktor declared smugly, "one that will allow me to win handily."

"Too bad your new solution doesn't let you wear a dry suit," Harry countered, tugging at the sleeve of his garment.

"Well, it won't matter much since I'll spend the least amount of time in the water," Viktor countered.

"So you think," Harry replied. He reached into his robes and frowned. "Where's my flask?"

"Your medic took it," Viktor said.

"Really?" Harry demanded. "God damn it!" He pulled out the ball of Gillyweed, but hesitated for a moment. "Did she check. . ." Viktor nodded silently. "Oh. I am going to be in such deep shit when she catches up with me."

"So, you figured out something different too?" Viktor asked.

"Against my will," Harry grumbled. Bagman was jabbering away in the background. Harry heard him begin a count down. "Good luck Viktor."

"Good luck Harry." A whistle sounded and Harry jammed the Gillyweed into his mouth and began chewing as he waded into the frigid water. He managed to choke it down as the water came up to his knees. The feeling of suffocation hit him as the water came up to his waist and he dove forward, sucking in a breath of water before he began swimming.

He had spent hours studying the bottom on the lake both on maps and in person. He followed the familiar terrain, passing over the grindylow nest without problem. They had already learned. It had only cost them half their numbers.

Turned out grindylow parts were worth their fair share in gold to Sal.

Harry caught a snatch of familiar mersong and pressed on. Soon he found himself swimming among the crude stone buildings. An occasional hand reached out and waved as he passed. Harry waved back politely as he negotiated the swim ways of the village. Finally, he came upon the statue in the middle of the village and saw the horrifically motionless hostages bound to the tail of the stone creature.

The waiting crowd of merpeople turned as he came into the village square.

The village chieftainess turned and nodded. "Harry." Harry nodded back and made his way to the statue. He tugged out the knife strapped to his leg and slashed the bindings holding Ron down. Harry snatched him up and turned to the village chieftainess. This would be tricky. He had tried to pick up some mermish from Luna, but the language was impossibly alien to speak.

"My friends," he stated, pointing at the others tied to the statue. "Mine. They die, I destroy your village. All of you." The village chieftainess held up her hands and nodded her head. Harry took a deep breath of water as he tried to think of any way he could be misunderstood. "Family. Dead," he said as he pointed at the other hostages. "Dead," he repeated, pointing his finger at the chief and then at the gathered merpeople. The chieftainess nodded. "Slow," Harry added. "Pain." He brushed his hair back and pointed to the scar across his forehead. "Pain." He pointed to the chieftainess again. "Pain."

"They are safe on forfeiture of my life," the chieftainess stated firmly, though she seemed annoyingly amused by the whole situation.

Harry considered smashing a building or beheading the statue to drive home his point, but was interrupted as a dark shape smashed into the statue. He had a flash of a human body and a shark head. His hand holding the knife raised immediately before he saw that the creature was savaging the ropes holding Hermione to the stature. Harry poked it in the side and it whipped around to face him. Harry somehow saw a flicker of recognition in its shark-like eyes and he shoved his knife into its webbed hand.

Viktor slashed the bindings holding Hermione and snatched her up as she began to float. He gave the knife back to Harry and swam off.

Harry turned back to the merpeople. "Dead." The chieftainess nodded and Harry began swimming, dragging Ron along with him. They made it to the bank and Ron popped awake the moment his head broke the surface. Harry waited the last few minutes of the Gillyweed's effect in the shallows and watched as, first, Cedric and then Fleur returned with their hostages. Finally, he felt his gills close and he climbed to his feet.

He walked ashore and found Ron, Hermione, Luna and Amalie standing together and looking rather contrite.

"Viktor told us what happened," Hermione stated.

"We weren't thinking," Ron added. "We didn't think about what it would mean to you if we both disappeared."

"And we couldn't see what was happening," Luna said. "If we had known you were in trouble we would have come running." Amalie nodded miserably.

Harry ignored them all and threw his arms around them.

"Never again," he said firmly as he squeezed them tight. "I can't. . .not know. Even if you're dead, I have to know. I can't stand not knowing. I don't. . .I can't. . ."

"I'll get to work on it," Hermione stated. He gave them all another good squeeze before stepping back. That was when he realized that there was another set of arms around him and another head of blond hair nestled to his chest. He frowned and glanced up at Luna and Amalie. One blonde. Two blondes. Three blondes?

"Huh. Did someone lose a small blond child?"

"Gabrielle!"'

"Pardon?" Harry asked. The little girl looked up and he found himself staring into a pair of rather familiar bright blue eyes.

"My name is Gabrielle!" the young girl declared with an impressively small French accent, "and my sister says that you need hugs. She also says that surely you would not be so monstrous as to curse a small, adorable child."

"Sister, huh?" Harry grunted. "Fleur!"

"Hugs!" the French champion declared. Harry scowled down at the little girl. How monstrous was he? After a moment of contemplation, he decided that he wasn't very monstrous at all. Much to his annoyance. "And if you curse my absolutely adorable little sister, you are a monster on par with that which you hate."

"What I hate would do so much worse than curse a young girl," Harry stated, "besides, why wouldn't I curse you since you started it?"

"Do it!" the younger Delacour cheered.

"Gabrielle?" Fleur gasped in shock.

"Mister Potter," Albus interrupted.

"Yes, Head Master?" Harry asked, trying to disengage the girl and scowling as he found the task impossible without excessive force.

"I would like to apologize for what we've put you through. . .again," Albus stated. "I didn't think about what taking away both of your oldest friends might do to you." Harry nodded tersely, a thousand things he wanted to scream at the old man on the tip of his tongue. His hands curled into fists as he considered a much older form of communication than talking. "Mister Krum and the village chieftainess also told me that you were the first to the statue."

"I was," Harry allowed.

"The chieftainess further told me that you were only delayed because you took time to assure yourself of the safety of the other hostages," Albus continued.

"True," Harry admitted.

"Did you really threaten to burn down the merpeoples' village?" Albus asked. Harry pondered that. In mermish, burn and destroy were almost indistinguishable in pronunciation. It was an easy enough mistake to make.

"Maybe." Viktor and Fleur both let out rather undignified snorts and Cedric buried his head in his hands as his shoulders heaved with silent laughter.

"Oh," Albus replied, the corners of his lips twitching. "I see that Minerva's been teaching you more than fighting. That'll be all." The older man turned and walked back to the judge's table.

"Can you let go? I would like to get out of this thing," Harry asked. He was really starting to lose feeling in his toes and was beginning to fantasize about his slippers. Gabrielle finally released him and he moved to his robes while unzipping his dry suit.

"Harry!" Hermione snapped.

"What?" Harry demanded, spinning around, wand ready. The bushy haired woman was staring at him in exasperation. "What?"

"Your arm," she growled. Harry refused to look down at the tight spiral of woad blue druidic characters running from half way up his right forearm to his shoulder. He casually picked up his vest and robes and pulled them on over the swim trunks he had been wearing under his dry suit.

"Yeah, no," Cedric stated. "Scottish Fury saw that." Harry glanced over his shoulder and saw Minerva glaring at him.

"Well. . .shit." He stepped into his slippers. "This has not been a good day for me."

"Did you somehow forget that you paid a man to spend two hours cutting that into your flesh?" Hermione asked.

"I was distracted," Harry growled. "Besides, that was months ago."

"You really forgot?" Hermione demanded in shock.

"I was distracted by you disappearing!" Harry snapped.

"So, it's my fault?"

"I wasn't going to say that, but if you want to take credit, then. . .yes!" Harry snapped.

"Children," Ron interrupted, "united front in front of the enemy, please." The two ignored him and glared at each other. "At least wait until you can find somewhere private to hatch this out." The redhead turned to the other champions and their hostages. "Anyway, we decided that we would like to invite you to a party."

"Really?" Gabrielle asked happily.

"Not you," Fleur and Ron said at the same time, causing the little girl to pout and kick at the ground.

"Cho is welcome of course, since Cedric vouched for you" Luna added, glancing at the dark haired Ravenclaw. "I guess Roger Davies is too."

"Oh, don't worry about him," Fleur stated. "He was pretty, but rather boring."

"Boring?" Ron asked.

"When you're as beautiful as me, you can snap you fingers and have a dozen pretty boys come running," Fleur explained. "Interesting men are much harder to find."

"Maybe they prefer modesty," Harry commented, finally turning away from his glaring contest with Hermione.

"You sassy bitch," Fleur replied. "How interesting." Amalie stepped forward, hugging Harry's arm as she glared at the other blond, much to his confusion and everyone else's amusement. Fleur glanced at Cedric. "Sassy bitch?"

"Perfect," Cedric said before turning to Harry. "So, you do know that you can't run from McGonagall and Madame Pomphrey forever."

"I can run for now," Harry stated.

"What did you do to Pomphrey?" Hermione demanded.

"This has not been a good day for me," Harry said simply.

"How bad is it?" Ron asked.

"It's bad," Cedric admitted. "Fleeing the country might not be a bad idea right now."

"Oh, good!" Luna announced. "We can declare ourselves asylum seekers when we get there."

"Don't be ridiculous Luna," Hermione stated.

"No, no," Harry argued. "She has a point. We should always investigate all our options. Where can we check extradition laws?" They were silent for a long moment.

"What?" Cedric asked.

"How bad did you fuck up Harry?" Amalie asked, ignoring the Hufflepuff champion.

"This has not been a good day for me," Harry repeated for the third time. "And now, I am going to disappear."

"Good luck with that," Cedric stated. Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he turned, only to find no one there. He turned back and Harry was already gone leaving a puzzled Amalie in his wake. "Well. . .shit." He glanced at the others. "Can he leave before the scores?"

"The question should be, is he allowed to leave before the scores," Luna answered happily. "Obviously he can leave. He just did!"

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's notes. On time every time! And now I'm surprised the universe didn't make me burst into flame for such a blatant lie. So, when I start thinking of a story, it usually starts with a series of gags. Then I have to fit a story into the gags. Harry having a panic attack when he realizes his friends are gone is one of those gags. Well, gag might be a strong word. Originally this was funnier, but as I wrote it, that scene kind of morphed into something a little more serious.

If you've ever had a panic attack, you know its not a joke. I never have, but while I was in medic school, I saw quite a few people who did. If it takes a blatantly normal 12-lead for me to suspect a panic attack instead of a heart attack, that's not good.

I used to have that macho, chest thumper thing going. Like a, "Panic attack? Man the fuck up!" thing. Then I watched a combat vet cry and hyperventilate himself unconscious while I tried to talk him down. So, yeah. Real problem.

You know, I've been out of the Marines for a long time and I'm still kind of shocked when some of that macho shit pops up.

I was talking to a friend of mine at my old job. He was an 03 (Marine infantry job) and he had just gotten out of the Marines a few months before I met him. At that point I had been out for years. I noticed him looking off and asked if he was okay. He told me that another of his friends had killed himself. Out of nowhere my mouth opens to tell him about how a couple of guys in my unit, including a pretty good friend, had done the same.

Thankfully, reality came crashing down on me and my brain was like: "what the fuck are you doing?" before I could say a word. This guy had just lost a friend and I was about to do the Marine thing and turn this into a misery dick measuring contest. What the fuck? And no, this was not me trying to relate to him in order to offer comfort. Marines don't need to mention that a friend killed himself in order to relate to each other. We just kind of assume that at some point in your service you lost a friend to himself and his demons. Or her.

Thankfully my brain outsped my mouth and I just asked: "You good?"

Even he seemed shocked by that, like he was expecting a "well let me tell you how hard I had it" thing.

That's what we expect to happen. We're confused by someone reaching out to us.

There's a reason that more Marines die to themselves then the enemy.

Sorry. Not to be a downer. The word is down enough right now without me adding to it.

Actually, the world is down now and people are down too. If you're down, there are plenty of places you can turn to. Talk to someone. If you're too busy trying to be tough, there are phone lines where they'll never even ask your name.

Talk that shit out. Enough good people die while bad people get to keep on strutting.

Fuck that.

Hell, there's a PM button here. Send me a message. I'll talk. You might not think it, but I'm good at talking. I can be shocking empathetic for an asshole on the internet. It might take me a while, but I always get back to everyone who sends me a PM.

Love you. Fuck you. Take care of yourselves and keep an eye on your family and friends. I know the "you good?" meme is a. . .well. . .a meme, but fuck it. No shame in asking. You could be the difference.

-Uncle Jack