Awakening || Harry & Hermione

Chapter 6.2

". . . your time's half gone, so tarry not.

Lest what you seek stays here to rot. . ."

Harry froze and his blood ran cold as he stared at the unconscious girl in his arms. Time was running out: was he willing to stay here and risk Hermione's life? For what? So he could play hero, as always?

I'm sorry, he thought as he hung on to Hermione tightly with one arm and started swimming back in the direction he had come from. If it was just me, I would have stayed. I would have saved you.

But he couldn't do that now. Having someone more precious to him than anyone else, he realized, had made him selfish.

It was slower going back with the extra weight and only one webbed hand to wade forward. Ignoring his sore leg muscles, he used his flipper feet to rush out of the darkness. His shoulders ached and even with the gillyweed, the frantic exercise was making it hard to keep his breathing steady. It made him worry about Hermione; he had taken her from the statue, how long did he have before she woke up and needed air? The thought made him double his efforts.

Finally, he saw light from above and pushed forward. As soon as they emerged to the surface, he heard a sharp inhale of breath and turned to look at Hermione blinking water out of her eyes.

The people from the stands were cheering and someone came to help them onto the stage while another wrapped towels around their shivering forms.

"You did it, Harry!" Hermione sounded ecstatic, even as she spoke through clattering teeth. "You passed the task and you're the first one too!"

"Who the hell cares about that right now?" Harry muttered under his breath before yanking her back into his arms and satisfying himself with the knowledge that she was here—wet and shivering, but safe.

"Did you know this is the first time you've hugged me and not the other way around?" She mumbled against his shoulder. "I think I should play hostage more often if this is the reaction I'd get. "

"Don't even joke about that," he groaned while inwardly thinking, Is it really the first?

He was still shaking from the cold or from something else; he didn't know. "I thought I was going to lose you. Do you know how terrified I was?"

"Oh, Harry," She didn't need to say anything else and held onto him tightly.

As she turned her head to the right, Harry caught sight of a beetle in her hair and casually flicked it off.

There was the sound of shouting and Harry looked up to see a frazzled looking Fleur dashing his way. She had a towel wrapped lopsidedly around her and there were tear tracks staining her face. "Please, 'ave you seen my leetle sister, Gabrielle? Is she alive? Is she safe? Is she 'urt?"

Harry couldn't look into her eyes, ashamed. "I saw her. She was petrified like the rest of them at the bottom of the lake... that's all I know."

Fleur broke down into sobs and Harry felt the need to apologize. "I'm sorry, I wish I could have done something—but there was so little time—I was so scared something would happen to Hermione—"

Hermione shook her head at him. "I know that must have been terrible for you. But don't worry, I wasn't in any real danger and neither should Fleur's sister—"

"No real danger?" His voice rose. "You weren't awake down there. You didn't see... the pitch-black darkness, your face turning grey and losing all signs of life, those damned merpeople surrounding us with their spears and looking like they'd skewer us at any moment."

The volume of his voice attracted the attention of the judges, and both Dumbledore and Bagman looked over at him curiously.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Your concern for your friend is admirable, but I assure you all hostages were treated with the utmost care. The merpeople and I formed an agreement so that any remaining hostages would be brought up to the surface. Their lives were never in question."

Bagman nodded and looked at Harry with sympathy, which just angered him further.

"I don't care if you took every precaution possible, you still had no right to take Hermione or any other hostage down there. None!"

Dumbledore's face remained impassive, but Harry was sure he caught a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. Perhaps he thought that Harry was acting unreasonably. Maybe he was. Maybe he was an idiot for being so scared and believing the stupid riddle word for word. But that didn't make it right.

"It's bad enough that I was forced into this tournament against my will, but pulling innocent people into this? Designing a riddle that would scare us half to death? What was it all even for—some cheap entertainment factor? No one could see beneath the lake anyway!"

Hermione was pulling at his arm and he couldn't stand the silence after his words, so he turned away from the judges in frustration.

"Whoever made this task is a blithering idiot." He grumbled quietly, but perhaps not quietly enough as Bagman's face soured.

Hermione seemed to have had enough and dragged him to the edge of the platform overlooking the lake. "You can't just insult the organizer of the events like that! What if Bagman designs the last task to be even harder to get back at you?"

Harry snorted. "What else can they do to me that they already haven't?"

She groaned, but stopped scolding him when Fleur approached.

"Zank you for saying vat you did back zere, 'arry. You are right, I never signed up for zis. I can get 'urt in zis tournament, but my sister is not to be placed in danger. No one is allowed to 'urt my family."

Harry unconsciously glanced at Hermione, remembering her comatose state in the lake, and nodded his agreement.

Hermione gave up on continuing to scold him when she caught sight of his hand, which Harry had quite forgotten was wounded. "Harry, you're bleeding! Why didn't you tell me you'd gotten hurt?"

It was a little embarrassing going to Madam Pomfrey for a shallow wound when he had gotten rather used to only seeing her for life-threatening injuries. But Hermione was adamant ("You got that from saving me, I have to take responsibility.") and led them to Pomfrey who kept giving Harry secret little smiles that he had no idea what to make of.

When they made it back, they joined the audience in waiting silently for the rest of the Champions to return: Cedric emerged from the water first, looking exhausted but carrying Cho, who was coughing up mouthfuls of water, to see a healer. Next was Krum, who gave a one-armed embrace to the dark-haired boy who was likely his brother. Finally, a merperson tossed up Gabrielle and vanished with a swish of its tail; Fleur screamed and cradled Gabrielle in her arms immediately, fidgeting over her like a mother hen and hissing what Harry assumed were French curses under her breath.

All around him, people were simultaneously crying and smiling and embracing their loved ones. It gave him a strange sense of deja-vu, reminding him of the existence of a boy who would stand alone in the shadows in such reunions. A boy who had neither someone to care for nor someone who cared for him.

Beside him, Hermione squeezed his uninjured hand and jolted him back to the present.

Now I have both, he thought as he squeezed back.