23

23: The Second Task (August 11, 2003 to August 13, 2003)

He was in deep trouble. He may have been the one to command the kiss, but he was not the one in control of the kiss. No, that power lied solely with Severus. His knees were made of jell-o as he melted into Severus' well aimed onslaught. Good lord, his brief snog with Cho had been tedious to say anything about his first kiss but this was bliss. Fire and heat and molten desires met in an explosion of passion. Dear god, no wonder he had those dreams of Severus. If the man could kiss like this… Merlin help him.

Severus couldn't stop. He could not stop. His mind told him that this was wrong. This shouldn't be happening. This was wrong. Sebastian was a student; he was a teacher; they shouldn't be doing this. It didn't matter what his righteous conscious was saying, he didn't stop kissing Sebastian- he couldn't. All he did was deepen the kiss and pin the young man harder against the wall.

Sebastian was his, he thought possessively. His assistant, his student, his apprentice, simply his. It may be technically wrong, but it felt so good and so right. The way the young man had melted against him had never happened to him before. He was naturally the aggressor in any relationship, and it wasn't often that there was another male that would totally allow another to take control away. Sebastian did. Not Slytherin of him, but then again Sebastian was a unique Slytherin.

His tongue parted Sebastian's sweet lips and drunk from the saccharine nectar. Tangy and spicy, not quite as sugary as he thought but even more delicious. There was flavor and substance to back up Sebastian. This was a man he could learn to love, he thought with alarm. He had the brain and the understanding of his passion that Severus needed desperately. It was too bad that Sebastian was young enough to be his son.

Did it matter in the end? Did it? Sebastian wasn't protesting, if anything he was moaning softly for him. Delicious music to Severus' keen ears. He was going to make Sebastian beg for him, yearn for him like he had burned for Sebastian the past year. There was nothing to stop him, no rules against it even if it was proper decorum. There was nothing that was wrong with starting a relationship with Sebastian. He was over the age of consent.

However, Sebastian was still a student. Even if it wasn't against the rules of the school and society, Sebastian was a student and it would seem like Severus was taking advantage of an innocent. No, they couldn't start anything right now. It would start too many harsh criticisms and rumors that would ruin whatever they began. No, he couldn't do that to Sebastian. He pulled away and rested his forehead on the wall.

"Severus?" Harry murmured in confusion. His brain was clogged with desire that was threatening to burst. "I- don't stop."

Those words almost made Severus cave in again. "We can't," Severus rasped out in a bitter edge. "We can't do this now, Sebastian. Don't you understand? You're my student, and I'm your teacher." There was a stubbornness in Sebastian's eyes, it's what made him persevere in Potions even when things got difficult. He'd have to explain himself if he wanted Sebastian to back off.

"We can't pursue anything while you're a student," he continued on, a promise coloring his voice. Sebastian being perceptive didn't miss the hint, his brilliant eyes widening when he took in Severus' careful word choice. "It will be too hard, but later perhaps…" he let his voice trail off with the hint of things to come. He wanted this as much as he had ever wanted anything in his life.

He had never thought Sebastian would return his yearnings. He had suspected Sebastian had deep feelings of for him, but he thought it was as a mentor and teacher not as a possible lover. However, there was no mistaking Sebastian's fervent response to him. He wanted Severus as much as Severus wanted him. It would work too. They were partners and friends before they had become lovers.

"Later," Harry whispered, his greatest reverie coming true. What did Severus see him? He didn't understand it, but he wasn't going to fight against it. This was too good to be true, and yet it was. Severus wanted him, he had tasted the yearning on the older man's skillful seduction. Severus had been trying to coax him, not knowing that he needed no coaxing at all. He just needed the word that Severus desired him too. "We will continue this."

Several weeks had gone by, and Harry had been too busy with his Durmstrang classes and his special classes to have time to do anything else but collapse into his bed each night. The second task was approaching; however, he could have cared less. His thoughts were absorbed with thoughts of his possible future with Severus, his growing relationship with Sirius, and his consciousness nagging him that he should even be thinking these thoughts. He should be thinking of how to get home, not getting more firmly entrenched in this dimension.

It was hard though when Severus would look at him heatedly and he'd remember how it'd felt to kiss those thin, commanding lips. They were so close, yet they couldn't be together. Not yet anyway, would they ever? That was what haunted him the nights when it was hard to go to sleep. That and the memories of his home world where he ought to be yearning for. But the desire to go back more stemmed from obligation and the knowledge that it was right. This dimension may not have been perfect, but at least no one was trying to kill him here. He also didn't feel like he had the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders either.

And he had Sirius here, he had his godfather back. It was more than worth the agony he'd suffer to be able to really get to know his godfather better. While they didn't get to spend too much time together, since it would look suspicious- the times that they did were enlightening. Sirius was an incredible man, and his fears were erased. His godfather wasn't a dark wizard, not by a long shot.

He had been asked to spy on Voldemort by Dumbledore just days after his best friends' tragic death. It was the perfect opportunity since he was being framed for their death, and he could use it to his advantage. Sirius hadn't wanted to, but he saw Dumbledore's reasoning that it would be for the best. They needed someone within the Inner Circle, someone Dumbledore could trust his full faith in. That he placed with Sirius.

It'd been a stroke of genius when they seized the chance, and Sirius played his part to perfection. He hadn't really been responsible, yet he took the full blame for the traitorous Pettigrew's action. It didn't hurt that Bellatrix was thrilled that her favorite cousin had finally had been converted into the family tradition of dark wizardry. He had her support and her word was worth their weight in gold, especially since her husband had died from an ill reflected Killing Curse at Godric's Hollow.

Pettigrew had been too sly in his plans to rise himself up in the Death Eater ranks. No one believed he'd done the deed, and why should they? Pettigrew was an adequate wizard, but he in no way compared to Sirius Black. The Black family was notorious and their family blood magic was a powerful thing. With Bellatrix's backing, Sirius had no trouble rising up in the ranks quickly. It wasn't long before he was an entrenched member within the Inner Circle.

Harry learned things about Voldemort that he never would have learned otherwise. Much of their conversations centered around the Dark Regime, since Harry didn't know a lot about it. It'd been hard to keep his true past hidden, but Sirius didn't push him to reveal anymore than he wanted to. That was the difference between this Sirius and his Sirius. His Sirius would have pushed.

It was like he understood that the past was the past and you had to learn to live past it. It seemed Sirius had grown up in this dimension in ways that his Sirius hadn't been given the chance to. When they weren't throwing their thoughts about the Dark Regime, Sirius wanted to know anything that Harry was willing to tell him about his life. Harry only felt comfortable talking about the last two years he'd spent at Hogwarts.

Nothing more, and he allowed Sirius to believe it was unbearably painful. It was a secret he couldn't reveal. He'd already spoken to Dumbledore about it, and the Headmaster had thought it unwise to say anything more even if it was Sirius. The more people that knew, the more likely it would reach the ears of Voldemort. Dumbledore told him it was necessary to not draw attention to him until he'd finished his majority.

Then why was he at the Triwizard Tournament? If Voldemort sanctioned and sponsored it, he would be at the forefront of his line of vision. Because Dumbledore had said that it was the best way to prepare him, that the tasks were better training than anything else. Besides, he wouldn't be the main focus of the Tournament at first. That had made Harry's Slytherin side start to churn out theories.

It had to be Sahar Lestrange. Everyone was focused on her; everyone expected her to win. Then again she was the daughter of one an Inner Circle Death Eater. It only made sense. Expectations were high for her. From what knowledge he'd gathered from Sirius about the Dark Regime, he knew that the hidden motivation of the Tournament was to weed out likely Death Eater candidates.

Only the strongest and most cunning wizards succeeded in the Triwizard. It wasn't for the weak. It also explained Viktor Krum's drastic change in personality. While Krum and Karkaroff had been close before, they were buddy-buddy here. It seemed that Krum was Karkaroff's protégée. An interesting development, but that would explain why he had become so anti-muggle. There was more that was between Hermione and Viktor, some disagreement that had ended badly. That much he was aware of.

There was so much more he needed to learn, too bad there wasn't enough time in the day. He sighed heavily and rested his head against his arm. The second task was coming, and while he had an inkling of what it was. He still wasn't certain. Could it really be what he thought it was? He'd find out soon enough.

"Go to sleep, Bast," Draco called from where he was sleeping. "You have a big day tomorrow."

That he did. Tomorrow was the second task.

They drew lots again. Gabrielle drew the first lot; he was second; Sahar was last again. Either the Lestrange girl was extremely lucky or the odds were being tilted in her favor. It didn't seem likely though. To be that blatantly unfair would be too obvious, and the injustice of the Tournament was kept under strict subterfuge. No, she was just uncommonly lucky.

"A beautiful day for the second task!" the announcer exclaimed. "Beautiful but beauty can be quite hazardous, beware of the danger that your eyes may see. I hope the champions take those words seriously. This task has been kept under lock and key unlike the first task. None of the champions should have an inkling of what's coming at them today. But they better be swift in their spell-casting. While the young creature has not the power of a matured beast, it is still very perilous.

"But have no fear," the announcer continued. "Like in the first task, the stadium has been magically spelled to keep the stands safe for the audience. And while you may cheer all you wish, the champions in the back will be able to hear nothing of what's happening to the other champions that perform before them. We wouldn't want to give one an advantage over the others by knowing what works and what doesn't, do we?"

The crowd murmured their agreement. "The malicious creature has been released!" the announcer cried out. "The first up today is the Beaubaxton Champion, Gabrielle Delacour, who is trailing in third with 30 points. She's well behind the Durmstrang and Hogwarts Champion- and if she doesn't succeed in this task, it will prove detrimental. That much ground cannot be made in the final task."

That was all the information that they were given. But it was enough to confirm some of his suspicions. They were then cut off from any sound, all Harry could do was glance around at their bare waiting room and at Sahar's expressionless face. He couldn't tell if she knew what was coming or not, but he suspected she had a better clue than most of what was going on. If Sirius had given him the hint of what was coming, he didn't doubt she'd been given the same hint.

He might be Sirius' long lost godson, but Sahar was Sirius' blood relative. They also happened to be extremely close. It was rare when he didn't see Sahar near Sirius. Strange. Second cousins weren't usually this close. They were though. Unusual. He didn't try to talk about Sahar with Sirius, but Sirius never volunteered information about her either. Neither did Draco. Why were both so closed mouth about Sahar?

There was an advantage in going later, Harry knew, but it wasn't in strategy. It was rather fair, the other champions didn't have a clue what worked and what wouldn't. However, as Draco had told him later- the champions that went later had the advantaged of a weary foe. Gabrielle was tiring the magical creature for him, like he would for Sahar. If things kept going this way, Sahar was going to win this easily. It didn't hurt that the judges were biased in her favor.

But the waiting was grating on his nerves. He had a good idea of what was coming. What was waiting for him. He was a bit stunned when he heard the announcer's voice again after such a short time period. "Next up is the Hogwarts Champion, Sebastian Biggerstaff, a close second with 46 points!" It was his turn. He wondered what had happened to Gabrielle. He almost wished he'd gone first. At least then he would know. He'd have to find out from Draco and Hermione later.

It was now or never. He stepped forward and out of the invisible bubble that surrounded them and that kept them isolated. Once he walked out, he immediately was flooded with sounds of the crowd. But it wasn't the noise of exuberant cheering but almost of outcry. What had happened? Whatever was awaiting him, it gave him a funny feeling of foreboding. He thought he knew, but he wasn't so sure anymore.

The closer he approached the center of the arena, the quieter the crowd became. Ominous. Portentous. Vaguely he heard the announcer declare that the beast had been released, but there was still nothing to confirm his suspicions. He was positive he knew what it was. He could always be wrong though. From what he'd read up on the sinuous creatures, the younger ones were indeed far less dangerous. They couldn't kill as effectively as the matured ones.

It made sense to choose an immature specimen; there was no reason to kill off the champions. He took a deep breath, if he was right he had to be careful. Luckily, he had something that was going to prove quite useful to help him. He never thought he'd be grateful for this gift, but it was going to serve him well today. He certainly didn't want what had happened to Gabrielle to happen to him. If he was right, then he knew what had happened to her.

He was right. He didn't allow himself more than a brief glimpse of the sleek supple body of the young basilisk. Even then, it was only enough to confirm what he suspected all along. It made sense, beware of the danger that your eyes may see. Perfect sense. To be sure, it had puzzled him at first, but the more he thought about it the more he had begun to suspect the danger had to be a basilisk.

There weren't many things that were dangerous to the eyes that he knew of. And it made sense that if Voldemort was running the Tournament, he would want to test the champions in matters that were extraordinary. Especially considering that one of the champions was the daughter of a highly ranked Death Eater, it only made sense that the tasks would be more difficult this time around. Darker and more dangerous as well.

What else would a true Slytherin use as a beast? The fact the announcer had told them it was a magical creature had narrowed down all the possibilities that had been running in his head whenever he had time to think of the second task down to one possibility. A basilisk. It made everything much easier, but first he needed to know what he had to do. What exactly did this task involve?

"Biggerstaff has gotten off to a much better start than Delacour has," the announcer commented. "He has taken the warning seriously and has decided to shut his eyes, making it impossible for the basilisk to petrify him with her paralyzing gaze. But it still remains possible for the monstrous serpent to squeeze him into defeat and without his eyes how is he suppose to retrieve one of the eggs that she is guarding?"

It wasn't going to be easy, but this basilisk at least wasn't being controlled by a Tom Marvolo Riddle that wanted him dead. It wasn't like just anyone could speak parseltongue, could they? He was going to use that gift to his advantage, never had he been more grateful for it then now. He hadn't even thought about winning the Triwizard Tournament until Ron Weasley had pointed out what a boost to Hogwarts it would be. It would acknowledge Hogwarts as the best wizarding school and Dumbledore as a great Headmaster.

He wanted to do this for Dumbledore. It was something he could do. Dumbledore's words made sense to him now, to persevere despite the obstacles in front of him. Except it wasn't the barriers here, but the barriers in his past that haunted him. Bad memories. Awful recollections. They plagued him, and they had every right to. It'd been his fault that Cedric Diggory had died.

At first, he'd been angry at the world for the injustice but then he had begun to slowly realize after Sirius' death that he couldn't blame the world. He only had himself to fault. It was his fault they had died. His fault. His breathing increased and he felt the basilisk wrap it's powerful body around him. It'd be so easy to end things here, it wouldn't be easy to stop a basilisk in the midst of its death dance. Even if this basilisk was a young thing.

{Ssstupid, ssstupid humansss,} muttered the basilisk when Harry focused on what the magical serpent was hissing. {I am not monssstroussss. I am magnificent. There isss a definite difference!}

Harry almost laughed, but he doubted the basilisk would have appreciated it. A vain basilisk conscious of her self image, at least he believed it was a female. The undertones of her voice had been distinctively feminine. {You are not monssstrousss,} he hissed in agreement. {You are magnificent.} He figure it wouldn't hurt to stoke her ego even more. Serving the ego meant winning her favor if he guessed right. And winning her favor wouldn't be a bad notion.

He didn't dare open his eyes, yet he felt a difference in the way she was wrapping her body around him. She hadn't exactly stopped, but she wasn't trying to suffocate him either. He'd caught her attention. He was certain that wasn't the only attention he'd caught either. Parseltongue was a rare ability, and he was sure he was leaving the crowd gasping. Lucky for him, dark arts were more revered then shunned against like in his dimension. Being a parselmouth would probably only make him more popular in Slytherin he bemused.

{You ssspeak!} She exclaimed with surprise. {You ssspeak my tongue! Very few can, only the Massster can. But he isss sssspecial and he underssstandsss. He issss not like the ressst of thossse filthy humansss. He isss like one of usss. But you sssspeak asss well. You recognize that I am not a monssstrocity. You are like him.}

He was being compared to Voldemort. He hated being compared to Voldemort. But if it would help him in this task, he would bear it. It wasn't like he could avoid being compared to the Dark Lord when they had always been connected in some fashion. {I ssspeak, yesss. My name isss Sssebassstian. What isss yoursss, beauty?}

{Sssebassstian,} she repeated as if testing his name on her tongue, {I like it. It isss a good name. A noble name. It sssuitsss you. How did you guessssss the meaning of my name? It meansss beautiful. Assstrithr, but Massster callsss me Asssta. It isss nice to meet you, Sssebasstian.}

He inclined his head as politely and as respectfully as he could while being surrounded by the lengthy basilisk. {Asss it isss to meet you, Asssta. You are what your name meansss,} he murmured softly. {May I asssk you a favor, Asssta?}

{Asssk away.}

{You know of the tasssk that I mussst do. I cannot fail,} he told her with the confidence that she understood him. Despite her vanity, this basilisk was proving very friendly and conscientious of her surroundings. {Will you help me?}

{You asssk ssso nicely,} she commented. {They do not asssk. They take what isss not theirsss to take. Sssince you asssked for my help, and becaussse your remind of me of my Massster, you may take one of the eggsss. But you mussst come sssometime to meet my Massster, he would like you.}

Yes, this Voldemort had no reason to hate him in this dimension did he? After all, he had been the one that had not lived- the one that had died. He mentally shivered when he felt the Asta pull away from him and go toward nest where she guarded the eggs he was suppose to retrieve. It wasn't long at all when he felt her place the egg into his hand. {Take good care of her. Until next time, Sssebassstian.}

It was done. He opened his eyes in time to see Asta slithering away, a gleaming gun metal gray in the dull sunlight of the gorgeous day. As he glanced down at the egg, he noticed that the egg was also the same dark metallic gray. Intriguing. Was this what he suspected it was? A basilisk egg? But Asta was too young to have birthed these eggs. They must have chosen her to protect the eggs, and for her to have given up one of these eggs to him was a huge deal. A basilisk didn't call just anyone master.

He held it gently in his hand, too stunned to even acknowledge the thunderous applause of the crowd. It was only when he realized that the announcer had declared that he had a perfect score from the judges did he start to move to the sidelines. As he was moving away, he caught Severus' piercing gaze. No doubt he would have to have words with his Potions Master. He wouldn't mind. It would give him time alone with Severus.

"The last one up is the Durmstrang Champion, Sahar Lestrange, who currently holds the lead position with a perfect score of 50!"

While the crowd erupted into applause, it was noticeably muted compared to the claps Sahar had gotten from them in the first task. Harry guessed it was because they were too astonished that someone else had the parseltongue ability. According to what he knew in his world, only he and Voldemort had the gift. It made sense why Asta was so taken back that he spoke to her. Why she'd so readily listen to him.

"Simply amazing," the announcer commented. That caught Harry's attention and he was careful not to look into Asta's eyes even if they were behind an invisible barrier that was suppose to protect them from the basilisk's petrifying glare. What he saw astounded him. Sahar was shifting into an animagus form that was unquestionably that of a sleek serpent. He had never known that anyone had the capability to be an animagus of a cold-blooded animal when it was different from the wizard's own state.

No wonder everyone was confident that Sahar would win. That was very advanced magic, not even Hermione was even close to transforming into her animal yet. She knew she had claws and sharp eyesight, but that was about it. For Sahar to totally morph into her animal counterpart was impressive, to shift from a warm blood to a cold blood was even more incredible.

From this form, she was talking to the basilisk in their shared tongue. Harry was a bit too far away to catch more than bare gist of the conversation. But Sahar was commanding that the basilisk hand her over the egg. She wasn't being disrespectful, but she wasn't asking Asta like the basilisk liked. Then again, how was Sahar to know that Asta liked being asked nicely to do things? She certainly couldn't have heard the conversation in the silent bubble.

Eventually, Sahar managed to force Asta to fetch her one of the eggs. But what Harry noticed immediately when Asta brought back one of the eggs was that it wasn't a gleaming silver. It was white and not a basilisk egg. She received a 47; she had accomplished the task but not received the coveted basilisk egg. But why had he gotten the basilisk egg? It wasn't something to be given lightly. Few basilisk were left in the world, very few. And basilisks didn't reproduce fast nor often. This was a rare gift and only another basilisk could give an egg out since basilisks were fierce protectors.

But why him? Because he was like Voldemort. He was like her master.