This work is a parody of J.K Rowling's Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and it is not endorsed by either J.K. Rowling or her publishers. As a parody, this work is protected under the Fair Use Doctrine.
The characterizations in this work deviate significantly from the original, and this does not imply these characterizations exist in the original work. The author received no financial compensation or endorsements for the production of this work.
All characters in this story are fictional. This story depicts sexual acts between consenting minor males. This story is meant for entertainment purposes only and in no way reflects reality. Please be aware of local laws or ordinances that may prohibit the reading of such material.
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Time plays tricks on people. Harry thought three weeks gave him more than enough time to sort out the details of his plan for the challenge. However, the days sped by. Even when asked by Ass Cleft, Diktor, and even Foul if he devised a scheme, Harry did not divulge his plan. As Diktor reminded him several times, they remained competitors and Harry felt he worked too hard to find his solution. However, he left many of the actual operational elements until the last minute.
Thus Harry found himself late the night before the challenge swimming around in very cold water near the dock where the challenge would commence. He hid two of the sound balloons in a place where he felt certain no one would notice and prayed he would be able to find them the next day. The frantic excursion also forced him to consider other aspects he failed to take into account.
Extremely early on the day of the challenge Neville woke him, and nearly scared the life out of him. His friend pressed a small jar into his hand. With his mouth pressed against Harry's ear, he whispered.
"Read about this in one of the books Goo-eye gave me. Put it in you swimming trunks' pocket and eat it in the water. It's called fishface lace, and it'll help you breathe underwater," Neville told him. "I think I took enough to give you an hour or so... maybe two at best. It was only a guess, so complete the task as fast as you can."
"Core, Neville, you're a lifesaver... again," Harry breathed in relief since it removed one very serious obstacle.
"Good luck," his friend said and gave Harry a kiss on his left temple.
Harry got an instant erection and his heart started to flutter. Neville slipped away from his bed before he could be properly thanked. The very dim light creeping into the room spoke of the early hour. He heard Neville's bed squeak as the teenager returned to it. Harry wanted nothing more than to crawl over, climb in as well, and show Neville proper gratitude. However, his eyes closed and sleep pounced on him.
Madness surrounded Harry when he officially rose. His roommates to a man got dressed and raced down to the great hall. Harry took his time. He slipped on his still-damp swimming trunks, loaded the precious jar filled with a gray, fern-like plant. He also slipped on a pair of his fappitch training sweat pants to keep his legs warm. Then he added his fappitch jumper over the tee-shirt he planned to wear in the water. After slipping into a pair of trainers and sliding his wand into the waistband of his trunks, he headed down to the great hall. Before he made it inside, Harry got hauled to the room where the champions proved they solved the riddle of the dragon butt-plug.
"There are still preparations to be made which you cannot know about," Barty Crouch told them when they assembled at a table. "The house elves charmed this table so all you have to do is tell it what you want to eat."
Harry, Ass Cleft, Diktor, and Foul glanced at one another. Each verbally identified what they wanted for breakfast, and seconds later it appeared before them. Harry opted for a big bowl of porridge with sweetening since he often ate it before a fappitch match and it sustained him. Diktor, likewise, chose a bowl of muesli. Ass Cleft and Foul got a standard breakfast of eggs, sausage, toast, and fried potatoes. However, they changed their order when they observed Harry and Diktor's selection.
"A fappitch player would know," Ass Cleft mumbled.
Barty Crouch remained in the room with them. Outside they could hear students talking loudly and even yelling to each other. It seemed to clash with the St. Valentine's Day decorations adorning the castle. While not widely celebrated in the wizarding world, the school kept up the tradition for the sake of the muggle students. Once more Harry found it rather cheesy the tournament committee used the day when a line of the riddle spoke of one's heart's desire. The champions ate in silence, glancing at one another on occasion, and listened to the hubbub in the hallway.
"Harry, what do you do for this challenge?" Diktor asked and seemed perturbed by the lack of conversation.
"Well, that's where cooperation ends, Diktor. Like you keep telling me: we're ultimately still opponents in this contest," Harry answered.
"Oh, nice one, Potter," Ass Cleft said through a smirk.
"The boy learns," Diktor rumbled.
Within a half an hour everything quieted down. The tower struck nine bells, and Crouch stood.
"To the docks," he instructed the champions.
The five of them exited the room. The castle seemed deserted. Even the ghosts did not appear anywhere. The group walked through the grand foyer to the front doors. Although Harry and Ass Cleft knew where to go, Crouch continued to lead them. The wended their way down the side of the rocky prominence on which Snogwarts hunkered. Down below they could see the docks where the Spurmstung ship berthed. Halfway down the dock, before reaching the great, black Spurmstung vessel, a set of stands stood. It swayed from the bodies that packed the bleachers. Before it rested a small dais whereon the tournament committee waited. At the very edge of the dock Harry saw four circles with numbers painted in them.
It became clear the circles indicated the champions positions. Harry got placed in the first, Diktor the second, Foul stood in the third, and Ass Cleft occupied the fourth. The order coincided with their rank coming out of the first challenge. Barty Crouch stood before them, then pointed his wand at his throat and mumbled.
"All right, he we are at the second challenge," the man's highly amplified voice boomed over them. "As you probably surmised, this is search and find task. As you can see by the magical barrier, that is the area where something dear to you is hidden. Your job is to find it and return to the surface as fast as you can."
Harry glanced at the water. Stretching out as least three-quarters of kilometer into the loch he could see the shimmering bright blue barriers that defined the game area. Given the depth of the body of water, it presented a sizable playing field. He became nervous as he wondered if Neville gave him enough of the plant for a sustained search.
"Please be advised that your heart's desire will be lost to you forever should you fail to locate it," Crouch added in a dire tone. "Five minutes before the start. Please prepare."
All of the contestants stripped off their warm attire, and Harry included his glasses. Harry glanced to the side. Ass Cleft wore a skin-tight pair of purple racing-style trunks that perfectly outlined all of his fine assets. Harry felt his pecker throb in reaction. Diktor wore a set of trunks similar to Harry's, but of a much finer quality. Unlike Harry he did not wear a shirt, and his broad chest with nascent hair proudly stood out. Harry's organ swelled even more as he recalled the reward he received in the prefect's bathroom. Lastly Foul wore a pink, one-piece ensemble that barely contained either her breasts or buttocks. It looked as though she planned on stress-testing the seams of her swim suit. He pulled out his wand after adjusting his dick.
"Constans temperatus aequabilis," Harry confidently spoke the spell he concocted for the contest. It took him several attempts to find the right combination that did not result in either burning or freezing him, and one that would last until he dispelled it.
The other champions did the same. They stood in their respective circles looking at one another and at the crowd in the stands. Harry heard his name mixed in the chants of the other names. Picking Ron from the crowd proved easy since his hair acted as a beacon. It took him a little longer to find Hermione because she spent a majority of her time snogging with Sabine. Harry did not have time to find Neville.
"Champions," Barty Crouch's voice rang out. "In one minute we begin. When we call your name you may enter the water. You will be called at the intervals between your first challenge times. Please note you must complete the task as fast as you can, and we recommend no more than two hours. Good luck."
Harry steeled himself. He frowned because he never looked for any maps of the waters surrounding Snogwarts. It meant he would proceed in an environment of which he knew nothing.
"Harry Potter!" Crouch bellowed his name.
Harry jumped and plummeted three meters before hitting the water. As he fell, he jammed his hand into his trunks pocket. Once in the water, and he did not feel a temperature change, he pulled out the jar. The fishface lace started to float out when he unscrewed the lid, but he grabbed it and slurped it down. Between the grotesque loch water and the frilly but slimy feel of the lace, he thought he might vomit. Seconds later it got replaced by an incredible pain in his face and neck. Harry clutched at his cheeks while it felt as though someone tried to pull off his flesh. He could only describe the sensation in his neck as getting sliced to ribbons. He sank at the same time. Several minutes later the pain eased. While he got his bearings he heard Diktor's name called through the water. Harry could not stop himself when he opened his mouth and gulped in water. However, it did not pass into his stomach, but his neck instantly felt better. He could also breathe.
Without understanding how the fishface lace operated, Harry began to swim toward the far end of the dock where he hid the sound balloons. He searched for the rock formation he memorized the night before. After a short time DelaCunt entered the water and swam away. After a minute of searching, and Harry admitted he felt weirdly comfortable in the water, he saw the pile of rocks and dove toward it. The sound balloons remained in place. He untied them from a rock protrusion, and then looped the rope around his chest and under each armpit. The sound balloons traveled at his back. Above him he heard Ass Cleft enter the water.
Harry never considered that sunlight would not penetrate very far below the surface of the water. He floated along in a slightly green and murky world. Fish swam away from him. It took him a minute to orient himself. He thought perhaps the location of his heart's desire would be found somewhere in the middle or toward the far end of the contest area. He started swimming in an east by northeast direction. The further down he went, the dimmer the light became. A new aspect puzzled him: he could see just fine under the water, and he did not even wear his glasses. Thus, he got a better view than he expected.
The lock bottom, some ten meters below the surface, more or less leveled off although it continued to descend at a mild angle. Tall stands of seaweed, a form of freshwater lake kelp, grew like small forests from the muck below. Harry tried to swim around the seaweeds, but found it created a sort of wall following along the coastline. It meant he would need to swim through it some point. Since time became essential, and Harry knew he could spare none, he realigned himself along his original trajectory and headed into the kelp bed. It felt closed off and a little frightening.
Inside the kelp strands a wide assort of fish tried to get out of his way. Some of the catfish clawed at him. A pike with teeth like spearheads gnashed, and Harry avoided it. A small school of trout did not seem bothered by his presence and continued to slink amid the seaweeds. As one point the kelp opened up, and Harry saw several pollocks drawing random lines in the sand in random patterns. He did not think much of it, but discovered he could see further if he followed along the bottom of the loch. A pike chased him for a bit, but veered off when a herd of freshwater seahorse stampeded between them. Mostly he traveled undisturbed through the murky demesne.
Harry's otherwise uneventful trip through the water changed when he thought he grabbed a hold of a sunken log only to find a water snake suddenly coiling around him. With a body half the thickness of his thigh and length long enough to wrap around all of his legs and lower torso, no one needed to tell Harry he faced trouble. The head of the snake turned toward him and tried to bite his face. Harry punched at it with all his might, but the density of the water slowed his attack. Reaching for his wand proved incredibly difficult because of the snake's coils. He and the creature wound up rolling over the bottom of the loch.
The fight started to become desperate for Harry as the coils tried to slither higher up his body. Visibility decreased as he and snake kicked up a tremendous amount of silt. Finally, Harry realized he truly needed his wand. Thus, he wiggled his right arm into the coils of the serpent while punching with his left. The snake became increasingly more aggressive. It also squeezed tighter. Harry barely got his fingertips on the wand and pawed at it. Millimeter by millimeter it slipped into his hand. The head of snake continued to try and eat his face. Harry swung at it, sometimes hitting, but otherwise angering it more and more as it kept the creature from gnawing on his head. Moreover, his legs started to go numb from the increasing pressure of the coils.
When at last the wand slipped into his hand, Harry yelled the incendio spell. A gout of flame burned a hole through his trunks pocket and scorched the side of his leg. It also cooked the snake in several places. The excruciating burn seemed a decent trade off for not getting crushed and eaten by a snake. The animal disappeared into the nearly black-out conditions. Harry swam in a direction and hoped for the best in order find cleaner water. His hips and leg throbbed with terrible pain. He grasped his wand with an iron grip and swung it back and forth around him. The young, injured wizard only paused when he found an opening in the seaweed and clearer water.
Although he could not feel it in his lungs, Harry knew he panted like an overheated dog. He glanced down at his right side. From hip to knee on his right leg he saw a row of huge blisters and several spots of blackened flesh. Only being in water saved him from receiving more damage. Once certain he did not burn his leg completely off, Harry swam in a circle and tried to figure out his direction and possible location. He could deduce neither. In a strange manner the pain in his leg lent him a sense of calm and clarity. It also taught him a lesson about keeping his wand in hand.
"Homenum revelio Merscots," Harry muttered, but he noticed bubbles did not emerge from his mouth.
The wand dragged Harry's arm to his left, so he swam in that direction. The sound balloons remained safely connected and strapped around his chest. He began to list the creatures Hagrid taught that lived in the local waters. He knew kelpies might lurk, but he did not think they would reside anywhere near Merscots. The actual merpeople lived further up the loch, north of the castle. Hydras got driven from Scotland centuries before, as well as the dobhar-chú. Shellycoats, Harry recalled, still roamed some part of the loch, but he hope the Merscots kept them at bay. Finally, Harry acknowledged he went in search of one of the most fearsome water creatures to be found anywhere in Scotland.
Ten minutes of swimming while following his wand took him into a different environment in the loch. The kelp forests thinned and ended. Fish and other aquatic beast became altogether scarce. Subconsciously Harry started to swim very close to the loch bottom and tried to avoid kicking up muck. Piles of rocks began to appear that did not seem natural. The formation seemed to mark territory. Farther ahead in the distance, Harry though he could see a light. He paused and scanned the area. The stillness and absence of all fish made him nervous. Although he calculated he spent around twenty minutes in the water, he remained motionless.
Following two minutes or so of tense waiting, Harry felt a chill run through him as quartet of people, human from the lower waist up and fish-like from the same point down, swam by some six meters away. Billows of reddish hair surrounded their pale, broad faces with beards the same color on two of the beings. The females swam topless, and breasts that would make Hermione swoon bobbed in the water. Around their waists they wore kilts and skirts of a very specific tartan pattern of black, green, yellow, and red. Something like a sporran dangled from the men. Within the hands the Merscots spears and swords of rusted metal looked dark and menacing.
Harry realized he never quite planned on the need to travel through Merscot infested areas. Somehow he believed he would simply come upon whatever object he needed to find. Foresight escaped him at inopportune times. Thus, he began to follow behind the patrol, as he assumed it to be, at what he hoped would be a safe distance. The Merscots did not appear to notice him. For several minutes he straggled behind the group as he contemplated what else he might do. The answer arrived in a poor fashion.
Hands stronger than Diktor's suddenly grabbed Harry's arms and legs. A furry face popped up in front of his. Harry let out a yelp. It scowled and bared it's teeth.
"'Oo bae da trooty fash wan slinkin' bee?" The Merscot yelled at him, and Harry could make out the words.
"You can talk?" He muttered in surprise.
"'Oo bae da trooty fash wha taeking nae troot?"
They could talk, Harry discovered, but either the dialect or the language itself eluded him. A few words sounded familiar, but it mostly sounded like gibberish to him. He tried to blink, and found he could not. A brief stare down ensured, but the Merscot lost patience.
"Hae da trooty fash o'er don ta hool! Nooh!" The Merscot hollered, and it seemed to be the default speaking mode.
Faster than he thought possible, the Merscots holding him began to swim. The scenery whipped by as they dodged rocks and other debris littering the floor of the loch, including a small ship that looked at least a century old. Harry lost all sense of direction as the forced journey continued. The hands kept him in a crushing grip that cut off the flow of blood to his arms. However, he kept his wand tightly locked in his hand. It almost shocked him when the random rock formations gave way to a clearly planned community. The houses looked odd, made from rocks, water soaked logs, and other junk that fell to the bottom, but one could not deny the assemblages as structures. They took him to open area where some rocks covered with a bio-luminescent algae glowed an unusual green color. It made the Merscots swimming around appear even more otherworldly.
"Weh foon a troot fash wha don slep in!" One of his captors loudly announced, and it puzzled Harry why the voices carried so clearly through the water.
Several more Merscots approached them, and Harry could tell they scrutinized him. Each looked armed to the hilt. They all wore the same tartan kilt or skirt, but remained naked from the waste up. Powerful arms and chests, even on the women, created a surreal impression. As he glanced about, Harry thought they seemed ready for war. Of course, everything he read about the Merscots said they prepared for war at all times.
"'E nae troot! `E dere wiz fra boove!" One of them, a female, exclaimed in a shout and simply confused Harry ever more.
All of the faces grew still for a second, and then grew angry. They closed in on him. Harry began to imagine the worst as weapons started to get drawn. Even with his wand at the ready, he did not believe for one second he could win in a fight. Numbers gave the Merscots the advantage.
"'E hae da boobies oon `e bach," a Merscot voice yelled.
"Nae da boobies, `e da `e!" An apparent ranking Merscot shouted as he pushed through the gathering.
"'Er loo-sae! Sae da boobies?"
Harry craned his neck around to watch the Merscots. They stared at him. In a flash he remembered the sound balloons. He understood one word of the Merscots, and it seemed they mistook the balloons for misplaced breasts. Harry thought it funny, but laughter eluded him since he thought he might die any second.
"Nae! Boobies nae nee da roop ta kee a-hol!" The leader roared.
The balloons got roughly yanked away from Harry, and a new sense of panic started to brew in his brain. The lead Merscot, a fierce looking man if Harry ever saw a fish person, but not quite as homicidal-looking as the woman behind him, dangled the sound balloons in his face.
"Nae boobies. Wha dee?" The Merscot yelled in his face.
Harry shook his head in disbelief because he actually derived meaning from the Merscots words.
"Hie!" The Merscot thundered and jingled the balloon again.
"Um, My Ass Done Grown Wide on the Bounty of Thy Hearth in All the Months of the Year that Tarries and Passes as I Lay Weeping and Remembering All," Harry recited the title of the song he forced himself to memorize. He figured it would be useful in trivia games at some later time.
One by one the Merscots turned and stared at him. Confusion appeared to ripple over hairy and non-hairy faces alike. He saw eyes narrow and a greater sense of threat brewed in the water. Grips tightened on weapons.
"Sae gin!" The leader shouted, but not quite as loud.
Harry thought they wanted him to repeat the title, so he did. The Merscots gaped at him when he finished. He tried to act composed.
"'Ow?"
"How is the song in there?" Harry repeated what he believed to be the entire question.
The Merscot nodded.
Harry glanced at his hands, then at the balloons, and said: "If you let my hands go, I can show you."
The Merscot literally growled.
"Do you really think I can get away from you? Huh? Other than my wand, do I look armed?"
Several of the underwater people tipped their heads together. Harry heard a tense conversation, but the Merscot language, a garbled variant of Scottish English by his estimation, made it impossible for him to follow. However, many of the hand gestures spoke quite clearly to Harry, and he concluded a number of them wanted to cut off his head. His nerves continue to cause a squealing noise in his brain.
"Angie, MacPha, seh `e freh un kep sard on `e," the leader bellowed as his people.
Harry could not believe it when they soldiers, he guessed them to be soldiers, released his arms. Blood started flowing back into his hands in a painful fashion. The Merscot held the sound balloons in front of Harry. He massaged his arms where the Merscots held him for a few seconds.
"Nae wizzy wiz er nae heed. Ken?" The pale yet somehow ruddy half-man screamed in Harry's face.
Harry nodded because he took the statements as a threat against his life. The term wizzy wiz implied an import context coupled with the fact the Merscot stared at his wand and appeared to understand what it could do. Harry slowly reached out to take the balloon from the Merscot. He also pocketed his wand in the pocket not burned to tatters. His right leg continued to howl with pain, yet it kept his mind sharp for some strange reason. However, that seemed inconsequential as Harry upended the sound balloon so the clever sealing clamp faced upward. Harry steeled himself as he prepared to unleash the awfulness contained in the balloon.
"OH! BONNY LASS AND LAD OF MY HEART AND LOIN, THIS FEAST THIS DAY I GRANT TO THEE, AND NEVER WILT THOU OWE ME A COIN, SO EAT THY FILL AND BE FREE!"
The words sounded like a horrendous gale under the water when Harry cracked open the seal. The terrible noise of the bladderpipes rolled like a tsunami across the underwater city as though ten thousands cows suffered cataclysmic gastrointestinal distress at one and the same moment. Harry slapped a hand over an ear to try and block the hideous song. However, he could not help but note how the Merscots to a person turned and faced him. Rather, they faced the sound balloon. Harry held it out, and the leader took it as if accepting the most precious gift in the world. To his further amazement, Merscots started swimming in from all directions, and they gathered around the one holding the balloon.
Harry vomited from the mix of pain and song. His regurgitated porridge float gently in the water. The Merscots did not seem to care. Harry swam back a few feet, bumped into several of the underwater people, yet none stopped him. He darted upward. No eyes tracked his movements. He continued to swim away. In the distance to the far left of what he guessed to be the village square Harry clearly saw a commotion in the water. He swam toward it as Merscots swam in the opposite direction toward the ghastly tune. Harry got the fifth and sixth shocks of the morning after being attacked by a water snake, burning his leg, getting captured by the Merscots, and then seeing how much the song impacted them. Strange transparent rectangular boxes with obvious humanoid forms trapped within floated above the loch floor, and three of the weirdest creatures he could imagine swam at the boxes.
Harry aimed for the contraptions. He saw what looked to be a half-human, half-angler fish struggling with one of the boxes. An ill-configured octopus or squid reached a second, and what appeared to be a completely solid jellyfish approached a third. A fourth went unattended. When Harry got closer, he saw each of the swimming beast wore recognizable swimming gear belonging to the other champions. Harry joined them, and they turned in apparent fright when he approached.
"It's me, Harry," he said to them.
Inside the jellyfish, or rather simply a big blob of hollowed out sea jelly, he saw Foul. The purple bikini-style trunks on the squid-thing obviously belonged to Ass Cleft, and that left Diktor as the grotesque angler fish person. They waved once, and returned to struggling with the boxes. Harry looked at them, and then a new rush of panic seized him. The boxes filled slowly with water, and Harry estimated only a half of the air space remained at the top. Ron swam in the one Diktor tried to open. Ass Cleft attended to box containing Roger Davies. A girl who looked remarkably like Foul tried to keep her head above water in the box the Boobbeatons attempt to release. Lastly, Neville Longbottom stood waist deep in water and looked highly concerned. Harry forgot all about the others and swam to Neville.
"Harry!" Neville yelled when he got close. "Get me out of this thing!"
Harry pulled out his wand, aimed it at the door, and incanted: "Alohamora!"
Nothing happened.
"It won't work. This trap is impervious to magic... somehow!" Neville yelled although his voice did not carry far.
Harry swam away from the container and stared at it. He saw a chain connected to the bottom of the trap and to a weight on the loch floor kept the box from floating away. Seconds ticked by as Harry struggled to come up with a plan. He saw the other three champions fair no better, and neither Ass Cleft or Diktor appeared able to speak and, thus, cast spell. Foul seemed all but useless in her jelly bubble. Harry swam back to the box while Neville urged him to hurry. The youngest of the champions swam around the trap and inspected it. He spied the very tiny holes that allowed water to seep in at a slow rate that would ultimately flood the box and kill the captive. It gave Harry an idea.
"Air spell!" Harry shouted at Neville "Increase the air pressure!"
"No wand!" Neville replied and held up his empty hands.
Harry damned Dumbledore for thinking so clearly in advance. He swam away and studied the situation again. Cedric, Diktor, and Foul made no more progress than he. Harry watched as they banged and beat against the contraption to no effect. In the background the appalling song continued to play. Harry estimated a third of it already assaulted their ears. He wondered how his three competitors managed ignore the sound. Since distance did not provide an answer, Harry returned to the box to see if any subtle means of releasing it from the weight existed. He found only a sturdy chain connected to the magic-resistant trap. He examined the bottom of the box and found the goblin maker marks that explained why it repelled magic. Frustrated, he started yanking on the chain to see if he could lift the weight. It exceeded his strength, but it gave him an idea.
Once he secured his wand again, Harry aimed it at the weight, and said: "Reducto!"
The weight shrank to half it's size, but still remained impossibly heavy when Harry tried to lift it. Someone again thought ahead. In a fit of anger, he pointed his wand at the chain in anger and repeated the spell.
The chain snapped as it shrank in size. Neville's trap began to float upward a tiny amount. Harry got under it and started to push. Like the sound balloons. The amount of water in the box made it buoyantly neutral. It took a bit of effort, but Harry managed to move it up by two meters. When he looked down, he saw his three competitors gaping at him. Harry's sense of right and wrong took over. As much as he wanted to carry Neville to the surface, he realized it would leave three others to die in a watery trap. He gave Neville's box one more might heave to send it upward a short distance, and then swam down to the other boxes.
Each chain took two shots of the spell to break. He released Ron first for being his best friend. Like Harry, Diktor got underneath and shoved the box with powerful kicks of his legs. Harry then freed the one containing Roger Davies. Ass Cleft immediately wrapped tentacles around it and began swimming toward the surface. Finally, Harry freed the one for Foul. How she managed to get her jelly bubble under the box stumped Harry, but it began to inflate and started to float upward. Harry then quickly returned to Neville's trap that floated almost back to the loch floor. With effort he got it moving again and aimed for the surface.
As it rose, the box became a contrast it that it seemed heavier yet easier to move. Harry did not understand the physics behind it all and hoped he could get Neville to safety. The top of the container broke the surface, and Harry saw only a bare quarter of the box floated on the waves. Being out of the water caused a dull, throbbing pain to erupt in his neck, so he darted back under the surface. Since he knew the direction, Harry pressed his shoulders against the bottom of the trap and kicked with his legs. He managed to move slowly forward while keeping it from sinking. Inside he could hear Neville yelling encouragement to him, but the teenager's voice nearly got drowned out by the odious song of the Merscots that blasted through the water.
It felt like a small eternity that Harry spent ferrying the trap with Neville in it back to the starting dock. He grew progressively weaker along the way, but refused to give up. Muscles ached from the strain, and he found it increasingly difficult to breathe. Fortunately, he could see the posts supporting the dock and the dark keel of Spurmstung ship in the near distance. Harry used what little strength remained to him to reach the dock. As soon as he crossed the magical barrier just in front of the jetty, the container on his back shuddered. Seconds later he felt a set of arms snag him from where he rested in the water gradually sinking to the bottom. Something got forced into his mouth.
Pain the likes of which he experienced at the start of the challenge lanced through his face and neck. Harry batted at the hands holding him because he slowly felt like he began to drown. He got hauled to the surface where he gasped and sputtered. After a couple of minutes, the pain subsided and he could breathe easier and coughed several times. Somehow he started to float and left the water altogether.
"In last place, Harry Potter who successfully retrieved Neville Longbottom!" A voice crackled through the air, and it seemed much better than listening to the Merscot song.
Harry opened his eyes once the pain ceased, and he saw the blurry visage of Neville. The shy teenager placed his glasses on his face. The strange, wondrous smile he saw on the long features made him grin.
"You saved me," Neville whispered loud enough to be heard over the cacophony. "You saved all of them."
"I'll always save you, Neville," Harry replied amid the cheering that continued to roll from the stands.
"Does this mean I'm you're heart's desire?"
"It must... yeah, you are."
Neville leaned his face down and planted his lips on Harry's. Harry raised his tired arms and wrapped them around the boy's neck. Around them people continue to wildly shout and yell at the completion of the challenge. Harry simply felt relieved no one died, and he could not care less he came in last place. However, the long kiss Neville bestowed on him made Harry feel like he won.
As with the end of the first challenge, Harry wobbled in and out of consciousness as his body tried to recover from the ordeal. He knew people congratulated him, and he distinctly recalled Foul crying and thanking him. Diktor and Ass Cleft also offered him their thanks. After that, someone, and he suspected Neville, led him back to the castle where Madam Pomfrey took a turn with him, although it made him briefly pass out. He got carried to the dorm room. Harry did not even change out of his wet trunks as he crawled into bed and fell in to a fast slumber. His final thoughts centered on his survival and Neville's spectacular kiss.
It seemed like ages that Harry slept, and rising from his torpor felt as much of a struggle as lifting heavy the trap from the depths of the loch. He slowly roused. Someone brushed hair from his face. Due to a habit borne of lifetime, Harry reached out to find his glasses. They got placed in hands and he put them on. When he turned his, he instantly saw the smiling face of Neville. He also realized the young man held onto him, and Harry could think of no better place to sleep at the moment.
"What time...?" Harry groggily inquired.
"Supper's in about an hour," Neville quietly told him. "You've slept almost six hours."
"I'm so tired," he said, yawned, and snuggled deeper into Neville's arms.
"Of course you are, Harry! Between the transformation, breaking all those chains underwater, and then getting me to safety, I'm surprised you're still not asleep."
"Have you been here the whole time?"
Neville nodded and grinned.
"Bet you need to piss like a derby horse, `cause I know I do," Harry remarked and started to stretch.
Something felt wrong and he flipped back the covers placed over him. Harry glanced down. He still wore his ruined swimming trunks, but then he saw only red marks on his leg where charred flesh resided not long ago. He lifted his face and stared at the young man who made his heart pound.
"Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let me bring you up here `til she saw to your leg. She thought you'd were going to scream your head off when she got started, but you only passed out. Guess it worked out for the best," Neville explained. "Everyone's dying to hear what you did down there. Diktor, Ass Cleft, Foul can only tell them what you did when you got to the prison boxes."
"Neville," Harry rejoined in a new sense of panic. "I'm so sorry they did this to you!"
"I'm not. When they came and got me and told me I was the one you needed to free... Harry, I cried `cause I knew what it meant. All these weeks I waited for some sign from you..."
Harry's chuckle interrupted him, and he said: "Same here. I was so afraid what we built up between us didn't mean what I wanted it to. I didn't want to ruin our friendship... lose just sitting alone in a room with you, Neville. It scared me, so I didn't say anything."
"Aren't we a couple of right prats!" Neville chastised them both. "I swear I thought it was so obvious I fell in love with you. Dean and Ron and Séamus gave me hell about it, but I begged them not to say anything to you. I didn't want to mess up what we had, either."
Only one part of what the young man said stuck in Harry's head and he asked: "You're really in love with me?"
"Almost since that first time you caught me wanking. I've been fond of you since forever, but when you started to notice me this year... and I watched you go through everything, and you still made time for me even though you became a tournament champion. Then the dance, and how you came to me to help you think through this challenge..."
"All right, Neville! All right: I believe you," Harry interjected himself in what might be a long stream-of-conscious answer. "I, ah, sort of really fell for you when we went to the Yuletide Dance. You were... such a gentleman the whole night."
"Thought I was going to wet on myself when I asked you to go in the greenhouse. I so much wanted that night to be perfect," Neville said, but in less of a rush.
"It was perfect. I still dream about it from time to time."
They smirked at one another. Harry pouted his lips, and Neville gently kissed them. Several million thoughts ran through Harry's mind, most of them quite lascivious, but his body felt laggard. Neville's cheeks turned a bit red.
"Harry, where do we go from here?" The shy teenager asked.
"I don't know," Harry confessed. "Never really been in a relationship before."
"But all those..."
"Just a lot of sex, Neville. It was grand and all, but I never felt for any of the boys the way I feel for your right now. Maybe I'm starting to grow up a little."
"Well, from what I've seen, you've grown up a lot and you know what to do with it!"
Harry burst out laughing at the ripe innuendo inside of Neville's statement. After a few moments, Neville's face turned red and he glanced down. Harry did not see humor in the expression.
"Neville, what?" He prodded.
"You've been with all those guys, and I've seen how good you are at sex, but me... I've never been with anyone," and Neville sounded reluctant to say it. "I've just tossed off a lot watching you four."
"Are you afraid you're not going to measure up to what I've done before?" Harry theorized in an instant.
Neville's head bobbed once, and he would not look at Harry.
"Don't be git, Neville."
"I'm serious! You do all these great and wonderful and scary things, and what have I ever done? I'm boring!" Neville countered in a dry voice.
"What have you ever done? Neville you treated me like no one ever treated me!"
"How's that?"
"Like I'm normal," Harry replied without hesitation. "Like I'm just some regular kid who wasn't marked by The Dork Lord... like I'm not the celebrity name to fear. You make me feel like Harry... just Harry... and it's the best feeling in the world!"
Neville appeared very confused.
"The best thing I love about what's between us is it never feels like you've got some hidden expectation for me. I've tried to do the same for you. I don't want you to act any different than you would any other day. Don't make the exception for me, Neville, because I don't want that. I just want whatever it is you can give me, and don't expect me to give you more than I can give you."
"You really don't expect anything form me?" Neville blurted.
"No, and that's great! Know why?"
Neville shook his head.
"'Cause then whatever you do give me is honest and real. You're not giving me anything because you think I want it. You give because you want to," he explained. "It took me a long time to realize how important that it. It's how I know the difference between the Dursleys and the Weasleys, and why I love the Weasleys so much more. Why I'm in love with you."
The uniquely colored brown eyes still appeared puzzled.
"Neville, don't worry about the sex. That's not what really makes a relationship from what I can see. Look at Dean? Every week it seems like he's dating someone new, and I don't think he knows what he's looking for to be honest."
"Do you? I think I'm know what I want..."
"Neville, we're just fourteen. I barely know what I want for breakfast tomorrow..."
"Then how do you know what you want from me?" Neville asked in a worried tone.
"You didn't hear what I said, Neville. All I want from you is whatever you want to give me. I can't ask for anything more than that, can I? And it's all you're going get from me," Harry neatly summarized what he already said.
Neville regarded him for a moment and slowly started to nodded his head. After a few more moments of contemplation, he smiled. Harry hoped it meant what he thought it meant.