Author's note: Guys, please… if you can spare some power stones, I'd really appreciate it.
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Hermione!
Despite knowing this was a controlled situation, and that she really was not in any real danger, the sight of her so still and helpless like that still twisted something deep inside Harry's chest in a way he had never felt before.
His hands clenched and loosened, then clenched and loosened again, then finally relaxed. She's fine, he told himself firmly, then set his mind back on the task again.
Everyone appeared to be in a very deep sleep. Their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths. Whether they were actually breathing, or how that was even possible underwater, he had no idea.
The large statue his best friends were shackled to stood on the far right. To the left, he spotted Jean and Roger bound to the next statue. He didn't know why. Perhaps it was the Gryffindor in him speaking, but he suddenly felt a strong urge to rescue all four of the Hogwarts hostages, and not just Hermione and Ron.
No… he shook his head, pushing the thought aside. Cedric should be coming soon, he told himself, then turned his full attention back to the duo this time.
He moved closer, his wand raised and ready to strike at any moment, fully expecting the merpeople to lower their spears and charge at him, but his worries proved unnecessary as they remained completely still. Well, that might be an oversimplification, because he could see that every movement he made was being tracked by them, as if they were quietly watching a performance unfold before their eyes.
He was fine with that. As long as they didn't target him, there was no need for him to waste his magic.
He stopped in front of Hermione first, studying the ropes of weed binding her to the massive stone merman statue. They were thick, slimy, and... he gave a quick yank, very strong.
Magic it is. He raised his wand, but just as he was about to give the rope of seaweed a good cutting hex, from the corner of his eye he spotted Cedric swimming toward him, and he paused his actions.
"Thanks for the signal, mate. I was starting to worry for a moment there."
"Did you think I'd go back on my word?" Harry smirked at him, and the Hogwarts pretty boy instinctively reached up to brush the back of his head. Well, he tried to, and stopped halfway lest he break the bubble.
"So no one has been rescued yet… are we the first?"
"Apparently." Harry nodded, then waved his wand and sent a cutting spell that neatly sliced through the rope of seaweed, and soon his best friends were freed from their bindings.
"I'm heading up… you should get moving too." He then waved his wand and Hermione's body lifted gently, drifting toward his back. Another flick later, the cut seaweed slithered through the water and wrapped itself around her, binding her securely to him. As for Ron… well, Harry's back obviously wasn't big enough to carry two people, so he simply grabbed the redhead by the back of his collar and prepared to flap his way quickly back to the surface.
Cedric's brows twitched at the sight, then shook his head and raised his wand to free his teammates as well. With a cutting hex here and another there, Jean and Roger were soon freed from their restraints. And perhaps he took a page from Harry, Jean was soon tangled onto his back while he grabbed Roger by the collar. However, just as he prepared to sweep upward, he noticed Harry was still there, looking like he was stunned by something, and he followed Harry's gaze upward.
"Oh, bloody hell..."
---
On the judges' panel, Maxime tore her eyes away from the display and glared at Karkaroff with a questioning brow. "Did you put him up to this? You know suggesting ideas are also against the rules."
"This has nothing to do with me, Madam Speaker, I assure you," he said, though the smirk on his lips was hard to miss. "We've all been watching the screens from the beginning… purely a coincidence."
"Now, now, let us not make assumptions, Olympe," Dumbledore chimed in, brushing his short beard with a faint smile.. "It does appear, just as Igor said, to be a coincidence. And I am quite certain the children can handle it."
At the same time, the tens of thousands in the crowd all let out a collective gasp as they watched the unexpected turn of events. It was Viktor Krum who arrived third near where the hostages were held, but everyone's shocked reaction was at what followed behind him: a swarm of grindylows chasing him ferociously, as if they meant to end him.
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"Oh, bloody hell..."
"Get behind me Cedric. When I fire the spell, cast Protego in front of us immediately!" Harry beckoned to Cedric quickly and raised his wand, getting ready, while Cedric simply nodded without protest. He didn't question what magic Harry was about to use, because Harry was better than him when it came to spells, plus, it made sense that one of them should cast a Shield Charm. Otherwise they would truly be swamped, especially now that each of them was carrying extra baggage.
Meanwhile, the culprit, Krum, in his half shark form, swam forward at an impressive speed. The moment he shot past Harry and Cedric, Harry, who had already charged his wand that it glowed a pale blue, decisively pulled the trigger.
Finestra… Maxima!
Boom!
A powerful shockwave burst from his wand, with Harry at its center, surging outward and upward like a rising half sphere. And because the magic erupted underwater, it seemed to magnify the force of it, sending the surge rushing through the lake with startling speed.
For a moment it was as if someone had pressed pause on the scene. The fast moving swarm of grindylows all stopped suddenly the instant the invisible wave of magic passed through them, their small but numerous bodies went slack, and every single pair of eyes turned white, obviously unconscious.
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"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" Over the stands the audience erupted, the commentator shouting at the top of his lungs. "Ladies and gentlemen, what you've just witnessed, and correct me if I'm mistaken, appears to be the counter to Reparo Maxima, the advanced reparo spell. The counter charm is said to be even more complicated and releases a powerful shockwave capable of shattering and breaking apart anything nearby!"
His voice rose even higher with excitement. "I'm not aware of any school that teaches this magic as part of their standard curriculum, but the Hogwarts champion, Mr Harry Potter, seems to be remarkably familiar with it!"
"The Boy Who Lived… is that what the people of this country call him? He certainly seems to live up to the stories I've heard."
Olympe Maxime cast a meaningful sideways glance at Dumbledore, a faint smile on her lips. Of course, a feat like that would not be difficult for mages of their level, but for a young apprentice mage like Harry to execute it so perfectly, especially under such pressure, was certainly worth noting.
"Exaggerated tales. I will admit the child is very talented, but…" Karkaroff didn't know when but the words had left his mouth, slipping out in a faintly frowning tone the moment he heard Maxime's sudden praise for Harry. He quickly cleared his throat, ready to add that it did not bother him, but stopped when he saw Maxime leaning toward him with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh? But what, Igor?" Her eyes narrowed, a sharp glint flashing within them. "Does it bother you, perhaps? Or is it that the boy reminds you a little too much of how your former master met his end?"
"Now, now, let us not dwell on such distant history and keep our attention on the tournament." Without even looking, Dumbledore could sense the frown on Karkaroff's face, especially the tension stirring in his magic. His own lips curled slightly at the reaction.
It seemed the man still harbored something for his apparently dead master. No matter how well Karkaroff believed he hid it, the reaction of his magic could not be completely concealed from two archmages.
Olympe chuckled softly, covering her mouth with one hand before leaning back in her seat. "You're right, Albus. It's all ancient history… isn't that right?" she said, casting one more sideways glance at Karkaroff.
Karkaroff only let out a low huff and remained silent. It was not that he did not want to answer. He simply did not dare.
Yes, he had indeed cleared himself of his association with Voldemort thirteen years ago, like many others who claimed they had been coerced. But he also knew that those who knew better were well aware that he had indeed stood among Voldemort's ranks.
But Voldemort was dead now, he firmly believed that. So whether he still harbored fear or loyalty, or something else no longer mattered. Besides, he was no longer the average wizard he had been over a decade ago. He had power now and influence, along with the recognition of being the headmaster of a prestigious school, a position that allowed him to sit, like he was now, alongside two archmages.
But despite all that, in the face of absolute power, he knew he couldn't be arrogant. Though he may seem to be sitting, talking as equals to Dumbledore and Maxime, he knew well that was only because the two of them didn't bother putting on airs.
"Oh, what's this? Ladies and gentlemen, are we about to witness a clash between the champions? Is that even allowed at this stage?"
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Author's Note:
🔥 Drop those Power Stones! 🔥
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