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Harry flicked his wand. Calefacio. A soft warmth spread through the air, and the ice melted away in a controlled stream, leaving only Luna and Astoria behind. He conjured two thick blankets, wrapping each of them up before the cold could fully settle in.
Astoria blinked rapidly as she stirred, her face scrunching up in irritation. "That was awful," she muttered, her voice muffled by the blanket as she tugged it tighter around herself.
Luna, still half-curled in her blanket, hummed thoughtfully. "It was quite peaceful, actually. Like being inside a snow globe."
Astoria shot her a betrayed look. "Snow globes aren't supposed to drown you."
The crowd finally snapped out of their stunned silence, and the entire shore erupted into noise. Some students cheered, others argued, and the judges looked between each other as if unsure whether they should be impressed or concerned.
Harry crouched next to them, checking for any remaining stiffness from the cold. "You two good?"
Astoria narrowed her eyes at him. "You could have at least gotten me out first."
Harry smirked. "Didn't hear you complaining when you were unconscious."
Astoria huffed, tucking herself deeper into the blanket. "I'm complaining now."
Luna, looking entirely unbothered, stretched her arms. "It was a nice nap."
Dumbledore's voice cut through the noise, amplifying over the crowd. "It seems our young champion has completed the task with… rather creative methods."
Karkaroff looked like he was on the verge of hexing something. "This is outrageous! He did not even enter the lake! This cannot be allowed!"
Harry, still kneeling next to Luna and Astoria, turned his head lazily toward him. "Which rule did I break?"
Karkaroff's expression twisted in frustration. "The task was to rescue them from the depths!"
"And I did," Harry said, brushing some ice off his sleeve. "Unless you're saying I should've done it in a more convenient way for you?"
A few Durmstrang students snickered. Karkaroff scowled, looking to the other judges for support. Maxime remained unreadable, though her gaze lingered on Harry as if reassessing him. Bagman, of course, was grinning, probably already calculating how much money he'd made from the bets. Shacklebolt just shook his head with a smile.
Meanwhile, McGonagall had the distinct look of someone resisting the urge to rub her temples.
Dumbledore merely twinkled at them all. "The task, as outlined, required the champions to retrieve their hostages. There was no specification on how it must be done." He turned toward Harry. "An innovative approach, Mr. Potter."
Harry shrugged. "It was the simplest solution."
Harry carried Astoria and Luna over his shoulders, their blankets bundled tightly around them as he strode toward the shore. The task had barely taken him a few minutes, and the others were still somewhere beneath the surface, struggling through whatever nonsense the merpeople had set up.
Madam Pomfrey was already waiting, arms crossed, muttering under her breath. Something about "stupid tournaments endangering her chicks." She took them from Harry with a nod, immediately checking them over for signs of hypothermia, fussing in a way only she could.
She clicked her tongue and pulled out her wand, casting a few diagnostic spells. "Hold still. No one's drowning on my watch, but that doesn't mean you aren't chilled to the bone." She shot a glance at Harry. "You're warm enough?"
Harry yawned, stretching his arms. "Didn't even get wet."
Madam Pomfrey huffed. "If only the rest of your lot had that much sense."
Harry left her to fuss over them and made his way toward his friends, who were gathered near the edge of the stands. Daphne shook her head as he approached.
"Show-off," she muttered.
Tracey smirked. "How does it feel to be the most hated champion here?"
"Couldn't tell you," Harry said easily. "Everybody loves me."
Ginny laughed. "Karkaroff might hex you before the day's over."
"He can try," Harry said, watching as the other champions still struggled below. Krum's shark-headed form was barely visible in the depths, while Fleur was somewhere further off.
Neville frowned. "How long do you think they'll take?"
"Doesn't matter," Pansy said, arms crossed. "Harry's already won. The rest is just formality."
Hermione exhaled, rubbing her temples. "You could have at least made it look difficult."
"Why would I?" Harry asked.
Hermione opened her mouth, then shut it with a sigh. "Never mind."
Blaise smirked. "At this rate, they're going to change the entire tournament next time just to make sure no one pulls this off again."
Harry chuckled, amused at the thought. "Well, they could start by stopping people from getting their names thrown in without their consent," he said, stepping back from the now-still lake. "Might prevent the next tournament from turning into a circus."
Then, a splash broke the surface, and Fleur emerged, her face pale. Her eyes darted around frantically before locking onto the shore. "Gabrielle!"
Her voice cut through the noise, sharp with panic. She tried to push forward, but her movements were sluggish from the cold, and the weight of exhaustion dragged her down. The judges stirred, and a few people in the stands gasped, but before anyone could react, a loud rustling came from the crowd.
Neville Longbottom was already stripping off his cloak, kicking off his boots without hesitation. He pulled something from his pocket, shoved it into his mouth, and chewed furiously.
"He's actually doing it," Tracey muttered.
"Of course, he is," Daphne said, unimpressed.
Without waiting for further commentary, Neville shed the last of his outer layers, leaving only his boxers before he dived headfirst into the lake. The water parted around him, swallowing him in an instant.
Harry chuckled, crossing his arms. "What a knight."
The girls rolled their eyes, but they were watching the lake with interest. Fleur had stopped struggling, her wide eyes fixed on the rippling water where Neville had disappeared. A few moments passed, then more.
Victor surfaced first, his date from the Yule Ball clinging onto him. He dragged her to the dock, unbothered by the weight, his gills flaring slightly as he took deep breaths. The Durmstrang students cheered, but Krum didn't even acknowledge them, just helped his date onto the platform before turning to see what the commotion was about.
Fleur was still treading water anxiously, her arms crossed tightly to keep herself steady. Then, finally, another figure broke through the surface.
Neville, his soaked hair plastered to his forehead, emerged with Gabrielle in his arms. His grip was firm but careful as he carried her toward the shallows. Fleur gasped, pushing herself forward to meet them, barely managing to keep her head above the water in her haste.
When Neville reached the edge, Fleur practically yanked Gabrielle from him, her arms wrapping around her sister as she muttered rapid French under her breath. Gabrielle, shivering but awake, clung to her tightly.
Fleur pulled back just enough to look at Neville, her eyes scanning his face before, without warning, she leaned in and kissed him.
Neville froze.
The stands erupted. Cheers, laughter, a few dramatic gasps.
Tracey whistled. "Well, damn."
Neville, for his part, looked like someone had just smacked him over the head with a broomstick. His face turned scarlet as Fleur pulled away, giving him a soft, grateful smile.
"You save 'er," she said simply.
Neville opened his mouth, closed it, then managed, "Uh—yeah. No problem."
Harry, watching the entire thing unfold, smirked. "Not bad, Longbottom. Reckon you'll be getting some letters from Beauxbatons soon."
Neville made a strangled sound before stomping onto the dock, dripping water everywhere as he grabbed his discarded clothes.
Meanwhile, Fleur was still fussing over Gabrielle, pressing her forehead to hers to check her temperature. "You are alright?"
Gabrielle gave a small, tired nod. "Oui, Fleur."
Fleur exhaled heavily before turning back toward Neville, who was now struggling to pull his socks on with damp feet. "I owe you," she said, her voice quieter now.
Neville, still red-faced, shrugged. "You don't. I mean—I couldn't just leave her there."
Fleur looked at him for a long moment before nodding. "Still. Merci."
Dumbledore stepped forward, clearing his throat. "It appears all the hostages have been safely retrieved. An excellent performance from all our champions."
"Well, I must say," Bagman called, clapping his hands together, "that was quite the show! Let's tally up the scores, shall we?"
Madame Maxime, still watching Fleur and Gabrielle, hesitated before giving a slow nod. "Fleur Delacour—twenty-five points."
Fleur barely reacted, too focused on Gabrielle.
Karkaroff straightened his coat, sniffing. "Victor Krum—forty points."
The Durmstrang students cheered.
Bagman grinned. "And for our dear Hogwarts champion, Harry Potter—"
He paused dramatically, glancing between the other judges. "Well, considering he rescued two hostages, I suppose we need to tally this carefully."
The crowd murmured, some students whispering to each other. Most were still processing how Harry had completely ignored the expected approach to the task and just yanked his hostages out of the lake without even getting wet.
Karkaroff scoffed, folding his arms. "There is nothing to tally! He did not complete the task properly. He walked on the lake like some—some street performer and dragged them out like frozen fish! This is not a joke!"
Harry gave Karkaroff a slow, mocking smile. "Sounds like projection. Just because you try your hardest and still can't get anyone wet doesn't mean the rest of us are overachieving in other areas."
There was a beat of silence before the entire crowd erupted. Laughter, gasps, a few horrified snorts—it spread through the stands like wildfire. Even the Beauxbatons students, who were supposed to remain dignified, couldn't fully suppress their reactions.
Fred and George practically collapsed against each other. "Oh, that's it," George wheezed. "That's the best line of the year."
Fred wiped a fake tear from his eye. "We'll be telling this one at family dinners."
Karkaroff, on the other hand, looked like he was debating hexing Harry on the spot. His mouth opened and closed as if trying to form words, but all that came out was an indignant sputter.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, amusement flickering behind his glasses. "I do believe it is time to award points."
Kingsley gave a small nod. "Mr. Potter completed the task within the parameters set by the judges. The rules clearly stated that hostages were to be rescued from the depths of the lake. Mr. Potter accomplished this—albeit in a creative and unorthodox manner—but that does not change the outcome. The task was designed to assess magical ability and ingenuity. That is why, instead of restricting champions to a set of spells, we allowed them to choose their own methods. For that, I give ten points."
Karkaroff made a disgusted noise, but Kingsley ignored him. Maxime, after a long pause, also gave ten points, though her expression was unreadable. Bagman, grinning like he'd personally won something, happily awarded ten as well. Dumbledore followed suit.
That left Karkaroff, who looked like he'd rather eat his own wand than give Harry a fair score. He crossed his arms, glaring at the lake as if it had personally wronged him. "Five points," he said sharply.
Bagman's face twitched. "Well, that brings Harry Potter's total for this task to forty-five points!" He gestured to the stands. "An excellent performance!"
The Hogwarts students erupted in cheers, especially the Slytherins, who looked half-amused and half-impressed. The Beauxbatons contingent was murmuring among themselves, and even some of the Durmstrang students were nodding with approval—except for the ones who had been glaring at Karkaroff since the tournament began.
Meanwhile, Astoria had wrapped herself tighter in her blanket and was watching Karkaroff like a cat watching a particularly dumb bird. "Five points," she muttered. "What a joke."
Luna hummed thoughtfully. "He doesn't seem to like you very much, Harry."
Harry smirked. "Shocking, really."
Fleur, who had been speaking quietly with Gabrielle, turned to Harry and gave him a sharp nod. "You did well," she said simply. "And you should have gotten full marks."
Harry shrugged. "Wouldn't be a real tournament if someone wasn't trying to cheat me out of points."
Fleur's expression darkened slightly as she glanced at Karkaroff, but she didn't say anything else. Gabrielle, peeking over her sister's shoulder, beamed at Neville, who was still red-faced from the entire ordeal.
"I think she likes you," Tracey muttered.
Neville groaned. "Please don't start."
"Too late," Pansy said, smirking.
Madam Pomfrey, now done fussing over the hostages, turned on the rest of them like a hawk. "Potter, you may have stayed dry, but that doesn't mean you're exempt from a check-up. And as for the rest of you—" Her eyes landed on Neville, who was still dripping. "Longbottom, if you so much as sneeze, I'll have you in the hospital wing for the night."
Neville grumbled but let her wrap a heated towel around him anyway.
The crowd was still talking, some students already speculating on the third task, while others were loudly debating whether Harry had technically cheated.
"Jealousy," Blaise said lazily, watching a group of Ravenclaws argue among themselves. "It's not a good look."
Draco, who had been surprisingly quiet through most of the event, scoffed. "The best part is watching them act like they wouldn't have done the same thing if they were smart enough to think of it."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "That's how Hogwarts works. If they can't outdo you, they complain."
"Let them complain," Harry said. "I got my people back without any trouble, didn't I?"
"Speaking of which," Daphne said, glancing at Astoria. "You're fine, right?"
Astoria scoffed. "Other than the part where I was dumped at the bottom of a freezing lake for an hour? Absolutely peachy."
"Yeah," Tracey said, nudging her. "Bet you're still going to brag about it, though."
Astoria lifted her chin. "Obviously."
"Of course she is," Pansy said. "She got to be Harry's hostage. She's going to bring this up for years."
Astoria smirked. "Maybe just a few months. If you lot behave."
Tracey groaned. "We're doomed."
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