The Hidden Hero

After Harry’s triumph at the first task, he found the other students slightly warmer to him. Sure, there were some, like Draco Malfoy, who continued to flash “Twist Stinks” buttons whenever they passed him. But, many stopped being overtly hostile. And a few even started to be friendly again. The teachers, too, were less challenging. Harry was immensely grateful.

Feeling more confident, Harry decided not to reveal his identity to Dumbledore. He would continue with his masquerade and hope that the worst was behind him. He could always change his mind if the situation worsened, he reasoned.

A few weeks after the first task, Professor McGonagall asked Harry to remain after class, where she explained that the champions were expected to choose partners to lead the dancing at the Yule Ball. Harry was horrified. He didn’t know how to dance. And, worse, who would go with him to the ball?

At lunch, Harry glanced over at Cho Chang. Could he gather up the nerve to ask her? But, at that moment, she looked up and noticed him watching her. Harry smiled tentatively at her, but she didn’t smile back. She turned away to speak with one of the Beauxbatons students sitting next to her.

Harry felt a horrible pitching feeling in his stomach. He turned back to his food and pushed his plate away.

“Are you finished, already?” asked Ginny, who was sitting across the table from him. “You barely ate.”

“I’m not very hungry,” Harry said.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Harry looked at Ginny and nodded. “At least Ginny doesn’t hate me,” he thought. “Maybe I should ask her to go to the dance with me.”

Before he could chicken out, Harry popped the question. “Ginny. Would you go the Yule Ball with me?”

Her eyes widened and she looked surprised. She hesitated a moment, during which time Harry died a thousand deaths, before saying, “Sure, Mark. I’d like to go with you. Thanks for asking.”

Harry let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. “That’s great! Thanks,” he said. What a relief!

The gossip that Mark Twist was taking Ginny Weasley to the Yule Ball spread quickly. Draco Malfoy intercepted them as they were leaving the Great Hall. “Weaselette! How could you sink so low? I know that your brother is friends with the lying, cheating mudblood, but how could you go to the Ball with him?”

“Keep your opinions to yourself, Malfoy!” snapped Ginny. “Mark is very brave and I’m glad to be going with him.”

Draco opened his mouth to say more, but Harry stepped forward. In a strong, composed voice, he said, “That’s enough! Don’t insult Ginny again. I’m warning you.”

Draco took a step back. “You’re threatening me? You think because you’re a Triwizard champion that you’re some hot stuff? You don’t scare me, Twist. You’re just a show-off.”

Harry fought to keep his cool. “I’m not threatening you. I’m telling you. Leave Ginny alone. I won’t tell you again.”

“Disgusting mudblood!” Draco said, but he turned and walked out of the Great Hall.

“Thanks, Mark,” smiled Ginny, touching Harry’s arm lightly.

Harry turned to her, unsmiling. “I’m sorry, Ginny. I didn’t think. I shouldn’t have asked you to go to the Yule Ball with me.”

“Why not?” she asked, upset.

“You may have noticed,” said Harry sarcastically, “that I’m not the most popular person in Hogwarts at the moment. Malfoy won’t be the only one who will think you are …fraternizing with the enemy.”

“I don’t care what Malfoy or anyone else says. I know that you are a good person, Mark. I’m proud to go with you to the Ball.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. You asked me and I said yes. It’s too late to change your mind.”

Harry smiled, pleased. “I don’t want to change my mind. Thanks, Ginny.”

She blushed.

*

The Yule Ball passed uneventfully for the most part. Ron ended up going with Padma Patil. He had thought to go with Hermione, but he had waited until the last minute to ask her. To his surprise, she turned him down, since she had already promised to go with someone else. Ron was beyond furious when Hermione entered the Ball on the arm of Viktor Krum.

Harry tried to stay out of the way of his feuding friends. Instead, he spent much of the Ball dancing with Ginny or just sitting quietly and chatting with her and some of their other friends. He noticed some glares directed their way, but no one said anything insulting. Perhaps, they were afraid to be overheard by the many teachers present. Harry didn’t care. He was just glad that he could enjoy the night.

Once the Ball was over, Harry turned his attention to preparing for the second task. He hated to think about the tournament, and had let weeks pass without working on the clue contained within the golden egg he had retrieved from the dragon’s nest. Realizing that he could procrastinate no longer, Harry spent hours trying to decipher the terrible screeching sound that filled the air whenever he opened the egg. He tried any number of spells, but nothing seemed to work.

A few weeks before the second task, just as Harry was starting to panic, Cedric cornered him on his way to class one day. He thanked Harry for having warned him about the dragon and, in repayment, told him to take his egg to the prefects’ bathroom. Harry didn’t understand but was desperate enough to give anything a try. So, one night when he expected everyone else to be at dinner, Harry visited the prefects’ bathroom as Cedric had suggested.

Harry enjoyed playing in the bath for a while. It was really like a small swimming pool, but with fragrant bubbles. He thought it was probably a good thing that he wasn’t a prefect. He’d spend all his time in the bath and shrivel away. After a long time, he finally remembered why he was there and retrieved the egg from the side of the bath, where he had left it. He opened the egg but the same horrible screeching sound filled the room.

“I’d try putting it in the water, if I were you.”

It was Moaning Myrtle. She had so surprised Harry that he had dropped the egg and swallowed a big gulp of soapy water. “Myrtle! I’m not dressed!”

“I closed my eyes when you got in,” she said.
Harry wasn’t sure he believed her. “You haven’t been to see me for ages,” she complained.
“I’m sorry, Myrtle. I didn’t mean to ignore you. I don’t want to just barge into the bathroom when you might not be in the mood for company. And, I’m not very popular around here. If you are serious about getting together, maybe you and I can schedule a time – but now’s a bit awkward. Okay?”

Myrtle smiled. “It would be fun to have company. Most people don’t like to spend time with a ghost. I like you. Tell you what, I’ll leave you now and give you privacy. Open the egg under the water and you’ll hear the clue. It’s a merpeople song. They live in the Dark Lake.”

“Thanks, Myrtle!” called Harry as she disappeared into a pipe. Making a mental note to set a time to visit the ghost, Harry turned his attention to the egg. As directed, he held the egg under water and the screeching turned into an eerie song.

“Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you’re searching, ponder this:
We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss,
An hour long you’ll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
But past an hour – the prospect’s black
Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back.”

The clue seemed to indicate that he would have to be able to stay underwater for an hour. Well that should be easy enough. Gillyweed should do the trick, although it might be hard to find some. He would have to send away to Diagon Alley for a supply.

Musing about the clue, Harry returned slowly to the Gryffindor common room. It had become second nature to him to pull out the Marauders’ Map to check who was wandering the halls. Where possible, Harry tried to avoid running into students. However, in looking at the map tonight, Harry was stopped in his tracks. Why was Bartemius Crouch in Professor Snape’s office? Harry recalled the stern face of the Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation. Why was he visiting Snape?

Harry continued heading back to his rooms. He recalled that, in his research on Mr. Crouch, he learned Mr. Crouch’s son had been convicted of being a Death Eater and had been sent to Azkaban, where he had died. Crouch Sr. had denounced his own son. In the articles, the older man seemed so passionately against the Dark Arts. But, what if he were lying? What if his son was a Death Eater because he had learned such principles from his father? Harry recalled the events of the Quidditch World Cup this last summer. Mr. Crouch had been instrumental in organizing that event and it had ended in Death Eaters marching and a Dark Mark cast into the sky. Was Crouch Sr. really a Death Eater too? And was that why he was visiting Professor Snape, who was also a known Death Eater?

Harry’s scar gave a painful twinge, reminding him of the growing threat. It was very unlikely that it was a coincidence that Voldemort was growing stronger, Harry’s name had been submitted into the Goblet of Fire, and known Death Eaters were consorting together. Harry shivered. He really could trust no one. Even a high-level Ministry official was suspect.

*
The day of the second task was clear and cold. Harry found a quiet corner in the library to pass the time before he would need to make his way to the Dark Lake. His stomach was in knots and he didn’t want to hear any comments from the other students. He wasn’t sure what would be worse. Comments from students like Draco, who would try to undermine his confidence by telling him that he was going to fail, or comments from friends like Ron, who would tell him that he was going to win.

When he judged the time to be right, he joined the rest of the school at the Dark Lake. He tried to hide his nervousness by keeping his face impassive. He didn’t realize that, once again, he gave an impression of hauteur and arrogance. He would have been shocked had he realized that Draco, staring at him with dislike, thought that Harry reminded him of his father. It infuriated Draco that a muggleborn would carry himself with the same regal bearing as the noblest of purebloods.

Harry arrived at the landing where the other champions and judges were waiting. He noticed that Percy, Ron’s brother, was there. He recalled, vaguely, that Percy worked for Barty Crouch. Harry looked around but didn’t see Mr. Crouch and he guessed that Percy was there in his stead. Harry wondered, fleetingly, where Mr. Crouch was.

Ludo Bagman explained the rules. “Champions, you have one hour to retrieve what has been taken from you. One…two…three!” He blew his whistle and cheers from the watching audience filled the air. The noise was muffled since the crowd was packed into seats on the opposite bank, in stands that had been erected where the dragons’ enclosure had been months before.

Harry pulled off his socks, shoes and robe and stuffed Gillyweed into his mouth. He walked into the freezing water and, within moments, felt the Gillyweed take effect. Harry felt a sharp pain on either side of his neck and realized that he had sprouted gills. Submerging himself fully into the water, he took a deep breath and enjoyed the feel of the oxygen filling his lungs. He started swimming, which was made easier by the webbing that had appeared on his hands and feet.

The silence of the water was eerie. He swam for a long time, easily evading Grindylows. Finally, after almost a half an hour, Harry heard the merpeople singing and followed their voices to their village. When he entered the village, he found a crowd of merpeople gathered around four people tied to the tail of a merperson statue.

Harry’s mouth dropped open in shock. There were Ron, Hermione, Cho and a little girl who closely resembled Fleur Delacour. The words of the egg’s clue came back to Harry: “We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss.” Never would he have guessed that this meant that the merpeople had taken human hostages. And, then, his blood running cold, Harry remembered more of the song: “But past an hour – the prospect’s black; Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back.”

The people would die if the champions didn’t recover them in time! Harry looked around frantically. Where were the other champions?

Harry grabbed a jagged rock and started hacking at the ropes binding Hermione. The merpeople pulled him back and one of them said, “You take your own hostage, only.”

“No way,” said Harry. “I’m not leaving any of them!”

Before the merpeople could continue arguing, Cedric appeared. He had used the bubble-headed charm and looked like a strange scuba diver. He quickly cut Cho loose with a knife that he had in his pocket. Then, pulling her upwards, they disappeared.

Viktor Krum, who had transformed his head into a shark, appeared soon after. He started biting at Hermione’s ropes with his shark teeth. Harry was worried that he’d hurt Hermione and he pressed the rock into Viktor’s hand. Within moments, Viktor had used the rock to cut through the ropes and pull Hermione to safety.

Harry waited for Fleur to arrive, but time passed and she didn’t appear. Becoming anxious, Harry took the stone and cut through the ropes holding both Ron and the little girl. When the merpeople tried to stop him, he pulled out his wand and held it before him in a threatening pose. He held up three fingers and slowly lowered them one at a time. When he put down the second finger, the merpeople scattered.

Pulling both Ron and the little girl toward the surface was exhausting. Harry felt his legs cramping and his shoulders ached with the weight he was carrying. As he got close to the surface, his flippers disappeared and his gills sank back into the sides of his neck. He could no longer breathe under water. He held his breath but started to feel dizzy. Just when he thought that he could not last another second, he broke the surface of the water. He took a long, deep reviving breath. The air filling his lungs felt so wonderful.

Ron and the little girl opened their eyes. The little girl looked around in confusion and seemed scared. Ron smiled at Harry and said, “I knew you’d be able to get me in time.” Noticing the girl, he asked, “Why is she here? Fleur was supposed to get her. She’s Fleur’s sister.”

“Fleur didn’t turn up. I couldn’t leave her.”

“You didn’t take that song seriously did you? Dumbledore wouldn’t have let any of us drown! I hope you didn’t waste time down there acting the hero.”

Harry jerked at the word “hero”. To himself, he thought, “But that’s what I am. I am the hero.” Out loud, he said, “I did take the song seriously. I wouldn’t trust Dumbledore or anyone else in this crazy world not to think it was okay to let a hostage drown. Anyway, come on. Help me get her to shore.”

Ron shook his head in disappointment that Harry had wasted time retrieving Fleur’s sister. But, obediently, he helped Harry tug the little girl to shore. Fleur met them at the bank, hysterical. “Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she ’urt?”

Harry tried to say that the little girl was fine but he was too exhausted to speak.

When they reached the bank, Percy dragged his brother out of the water (“Gerroff, Percy, I’m all right!”) and Fleur hugged her sister tightly. “It was ze Grindylows…zey attacked me…oh, Gabrielle, I thought…I thought…” Turning suddenly to Harry, she hugged him warmly. “You saved ’er. Even though she was not your ’ostage. Thank you!”

Harry blushed. Fleur turned and also hugged Ron, thanking him for his help. Hermione looked furious.

Their attention was brought back to Ludo Bagman, whose magically enhanced voice rang out. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Mer-chieftainess Murcus has told Professor Dumbledore that Mark Twist was first to reach the hostages but refused to leave until he was assured that all hostages would be safe. Dumbledore has argued that this shows tremendous moral fiber. With this in mind, we have awarded the following scores. Fleur Delacour - twenty-five points; Viktor Krum forty points; Mark Twist forty-five points; and Cedric Diggory forty-seven points.”

Harry couldn’t believe it! These scores, combined with the scores from the first task, tied him for first place with Cedric!

“There you go, Mark. You weren’t being thick after all – you were showing moral fiber,” applauded Ron.

“The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June. The champions will be notified of what is coming, precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions,” finished Bagman.

Harry basked in the feeling of enormous relief. It was over and he had four months until he had to worry about the next task. He smiled and turned to follow Ron and Hermione back up to the castle. But, as he turned, he noticed Professor Dumbledore looking at him. Defiantly, Harry stared back. Refusing to take offense, Dumbledore smiled and inclined his head toward Harry, indicating approval. Harry hesitated. He might not trust the man, but he couldn’t deny that he desired the headmaster’s good opinion. Harry returned a small smile and gave a slight nod back.