Finding A Way Home

In which Draco's language skills come in handy and Harry thinks he can win.

Icy cold panic consumed Harry. The second task was only minutes away and he still had no bloody idea how he was going to breathe underwater for an hour. Maybe he should just let himself drown. Save him the humiliation of admitting he never figured it out. No one can be disappointed in you if you're dead. It was lucky that McGonagall had needed to see Ron and Hermione. Hermione's quick eyes would have caught that thought as it flashed across his face and then he would really be in trouble. He let his head fall to the desk with a loud thud, hating how numb his brain felt.

"Harry Potter, sir?" came a familiar high pitched cry.

Harry's head snapped up and his eyes landed on Dobby. The elf was clutching something that looked a bit like if earth worms fused with bean sprouts. Harry tried not to make a face. It might have been the elf's favorite food for all he knew.

"Hello, Dobby. How are you?" He tried to smile, but Harry had a feeling he didn't quite manage it.

"Dobby is fine sir, but Harry Potter is not! They is taking his Wheezy, sir! Dobby is not wanting Harry Potter to be without his Wheezy!" The elf seemed distraught, holding out the slimy sprout-worms towards Harry.

"Erm, I'm sorry, they've taken my what?"

"Your Wheezy, sir! They is putting your Wheezy at the bottom of the lake so Dobby has come to give you gilly weed, sir! So you can be of the saving of your Wheezy!"

"Hold on Dobby, are you saying this....gilly weed will help me breathe underwater for an hour?" Harry dared not to believe it.

"Yes! It will help you save your Wheezy!" Dobby's ears wiggled in delight as Harry grabbed the gilly weed from him.

"Thanks, Dobby! I don't know how to repay you!" He grinned, already taking off for the lake. He was running late, but with Dobby's gilly weed already in his cheek he was confident his luck might be turning around. He might even win this thing.

The way he saw it, he would either win or die trying. The thought occurred to him that he was playing right into the hands of whoever had put his name in the Goblet. Whoever had entered him had obviously wanted him dead. But he had survived the dragon. He had the gilly weed. Harry was determined to finish the third task and win the Tournament. But he was getting ahead of himself. He still needed to survive this task before worrying about the third. Everyone threw him an irritated look and multiple people were asking where he had been as he joined the other three champions lined up on the shore of the lake. All sound faded into the background as he tried to hype himself up for this task. Cedric gave him a curious look but Harry just shook his head, focusing on chewing the rubbery plant. It tasted like seaweed and slugs. It was all he could do to keep it in his mouth.

At long last the blast of the gun sounded and all of the champions moved forward, leaving Harry standing alone on the beach still trying to chew the gilly weed. There was nothing for it. He would have to swallow it whole. He gulped the plant down and then gasped as pain seared in his neck. He gingerly felt behind his ears and was pleasantly surprised to find he had grown gills. He sent Dobby a quick prayer of thanks before diving into the icy water, confident and enlivened.

***

Pansy placed a reassuring hand on Draco's knee. He forced his leg to stop bouncing with a great deal of effort.

"The bloody idiot used gilly weed! There is never a guarantee for how long it will last! What was he thinking?" He hissed to her out of the side of his mouth.

"It's Potter." She rolled her eyes. "He probably wasn't."

Draco scowled moodily at the lake. Everything looked calm on the surface, yet within its depths the champions, and more importantly Harry, were facing dangers he could only even guess at.