Muggle-Raised Champion

Hero, Champion, Bill-Payer?

Disclaimer – I solemnly swear that JKR owns everything Harry Potter. Whether or not I am up to no good with her characters is for you to decide.

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Muggle-Raised Champion a

Chapter 22 – Hero, Champion, Bill-Payer?

2:45pm

Friday, 24 February 1995

Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

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"Lemon drop, Harry?" the Headmaster of Hogwarts offered, gesturing to the crystal bowl placed on the edge of his immaculate desk.

"Thank you, no," Harry replied, sitting back in his chair.

His eyes darted around the room, unsure exactly why he was there. The Second Task of the TriWizard Tournament had only finished a couple of hours before. There'd been enough time for Harry to get a bite to eat and to celebrate with his friends that it was over and the fact that he'd actually finished the Task within the time limit – the only Champion to do so – when he was informed that his presence was requested in the Headmaster's office.

And, even though it was stated as a request, Harry knew that Professor McGonagall, the one to deliver the message, meant it as an order.

Thoughts of a long, long hot shower were subsequently pushed aside in favour of doing as he was told.

"I thought that we might discuss your performance in the Task," Dumbledore said, sitting back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of his intent blue eyes.

Harry nodded slowly.

"Would you like to tell me how you accomplished the Task?" Dumbledore asked.

"I thought that you already knew that," Harry replied. "That the merchieftainess told you what happened."

It took a fair bit of self-control for Harry not to shudder at even the memory of the two, merperson and old wizard, shrieking at each other at the water's edge in voices that would have done fingernails on a blackboard proud.

"Ah, yes, Merchieftainess Murcus did tell me what she knew," Dumbledore allowed, "but I would like to hear it in your own words."

Harry stared at the old man, confused. What did it matter how he'd done it? It was a fluke, after all. And the Task was finished now, soon to be forgotten in favour of all the speculation of what the Third Task was going to be.

Even so, he decided to humour the old man that could possibly one day be his Headmaster.

"Well, when I worked out what the Second Task was," Harry began slowly, "I knew that I'd have no chance of completing it. I'd have to rescue something or someone from the bottom of the lake, in the middle of winter."

"What led you to believe that you would be unable to complete the Task?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry stared at the man.

"The hostages were at the bottom of a lake," he repeated. "How was I supposed to get down there, let alone rescue whoever you'd put down there for me? I don't know how to swim and, unlike Cedric, Viktor and Fleur, I don't have nearly seven years of magical education to help me out. Apart from a handful of spells, I'm barely halfway through learning the first year curriculum."

"Surely you could have researched a way to survive underwater and then practiced it?" Dumbledore suggested.

Harry waved the suggestion away. "Tried it. Failed. And as for that weed that Neville told me about, well, there was no way I was going to eat something like that and dive into a freezing cold lake without knowing exactly what was going to happen."