As the cannon's boom echoed across the Black Lake, three of the champions immediately plunged into the icy waters. Harry, however, remained on the platform, a knowing smile playing on his lips. The crowd's excited chatter turned to confused murmurs as they watched the elder Potter brother standing still, seemingly in no rush to begin the task.
From his vantage point, Harry observed his fellow champions' strategies unfold. Fleur, her silvery hair gleaming in the weak February sunlight, cast the Bubble-Head Charm with graceful efficiency. The transparent bubble formed around her head, and without a moment's hesitation, she dove into the murky waters, her lithe form quickly disappearing beneath the surface.
Krum opted for a more dramatic approach. With a wave of his wand and a muttered incantation, his upper body began to transform. Within moments, where the Durmstrang champion had stood, there was now a bizarre hybrid of man and shark. Krum's transfigured form sliced through the water with terrifying speed, heading in a different direction from Fleur.
Charles had chosen a strategy that Harry found amusingly familiar. The boy popped something into his mouth – undoubtedly gillyweed – and after a moment of apparent discomfort, dove into the lake. Harry watched as Charles's neck developed gills, and his hands and feet became webbed.
As the other champions disappeared from view, the crowd's attention focused squarely on Harry. Whispers of confusion and speculation rippled through the stands. What was he waiting for? Had he forgotten something? Was this part of some elaborate strategy?
Ludo Bagman's magically amplified voice rang out, excitement evident in his tone. "And they're off! Krum, Delacour, and the younger Potter have dived straight in. But wait... what's this? Hadrian Potter seems to be taking a different approach!"
Harry knew it was time to act. With a deep breath, he centered himself, feeling the magic coursing through his body. Then, to the astonishment of everyone present, he stepped off the platform – not into the water, but onto it.
The crowd's murmur of confusion turned to gasps of amazement as Harry began to run across the surface of the lake as if it were solid ground. His movements were fluid and graceful, each step precise and confident. It was a display of magical control that left even the most experienced witches and wizards in the audience speechless.
"I don't believe it!" Bagman shouted, his voice reaching a fever pitch. "Ladies and gentlemen, Hadrian Potter is running on water! But how? Wait... yes, I can see it now. He's creating ice beneath his feet as he moves! It also looks like he is casting without the help of his wand. Extraordinary, absolutely extraordinary!"
Indeed, with each step Harry took, a small patch of ice formed instantaneously beneath his foot, only to melt away the moment he moved on. It was a feat of incredible magical precision and control, requiring split-second timing and unwavering concentration. The fact that Harry was doing this wandlessly only added to the spectacle.
The spectators watched in awe as Harry sprinted across the lake, his path seemingly random to the untrained eye. Bagman, however, was quick to speculate.
"Potter seems to be heading in a very specific direction," Bagman observed, his voice filled with curiosity. "But how could he possibly know where to go? Nobody can see under this dark lake. The hostages are hidden deep beneath the surface!"
Unbeknownst to everyone, including his fellow champions, Harry was following the signal from a tracking charm he had secretly placed on Hermione Granger the day before. It had been a calculated move, born from his knowledge of how the task would unfold. Out of all the potential hostages, Harry had been certain that Hermione would be one of them. The undetectable tracking charm was his ace in the hole, a secret advantage that would guide him unerringly to the hostages' location.
As Harry neared his destination, he began to cast more complex magic. This time, he drew his wand, not wanting to push the boundaries of what the audience might accept as possible wandless magic. With a series of intricate movements, he began to create something that left the crowd gaping in disbelief.
"Merlin's beard!" Bagman exclaimed, his voice cracking with excitement. "Potter is now creating... are those ice stairs? Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Hadrian Potter has conjured a staircase of ice rising from the lake! Extraordinary magic, but... I must confess, I'm at a loss as to why. Surely Potter knows the hostages are in the water, not floating in the sky?"
The ice staircase was a marvel to behold. It spiraled upwards from the lake's surface, each step perfectly formed and gleaming in the pale sunlight. As Harry ascended the icy structure, which now towered above the lake's surface, the crowd held its collective breath.
Upon reaching the summit of his icy creation, Harry paused for a moment. He stood there, poised at the edge, his figure silhouetted against the sky. Then, without a moment's hesitation, he dove into the dark waters below, his body arcing gracefully through the air before piercing the lake's surface with barely a splash.
"And Potter has finally entered the lake!" Bagman announced, his voice a mixture of relief and anticipation. "The stairs were just to give the dive a good boost. It makes sense now. What an entrance! I've never seen anything like it in all my years of Quidditch and magical sports!"
Beneath the surface, Harry cast a Bubble-Head Charm for breathing and then, in a display of wandless magic that would have left even Dumbledore impressed, used jets of water from his hands to propel himself downward at incredible speed.
The underwater world of the Black Lake rushed past him in a blur of murky greens and browns. Fish darted away in fright as he passed, and strands of underwater plants whipped in the currents he created. Harry's control was precise, adjusting his trajectory with minute movements of his hands and body.
In what seemed like mere moments, Harry found himself in the heart of the merpeople's village. The sight that greeted him was breathtaking, a hidden world that few surface dwellers had ever witnessed.
Elaborate structures carved from lake-bed rock rose around him, their surfaces adorned with luminescent algae that cast an eerie, beautiful glow throughout the underwater settlement. The architecture was unlike anything seen in the wizarding world above, a blend of organic shapes and precise geometry that spoke to the merpeople's unique aesthetic and practical needs.
Merpeople, their skin a mottled gray-green and their long hair floating around their faces like living halos, watched him with curious yellow eyes as he passed. Their expressions were a mix of surprise and wariness – clearly, they had not expected a champion to arrive so soon, and certainly not in such a dramatic fashion.
Harry ignored the rushing merpeople, some of whom were hurriedly swimming to take up positions they had clearly planned to intimidate the champions. Their attempts at menace were somewhat undermined by their obvious shock at Harry's early arrival. Instead, he turned his attention to the center of the village, searching for the hostages.
There, tethered to a giant statue of a merperson, were four figures: Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, and a young girl who could only be Gabrielle Delacour. The statue itself was an imposing sight, a towering representation of a merperson warrior, its stone face set in an eternal, fierce expression. The hostages floated eerily in the water, their hair drifting around their faces, eyes closed as if in peaceful sleep.
Harry quickly realized that Neville was his designated hostage. While Neville was not someone Harry would typically consider someone he'd "sorely miss," Neville was still close to Harry. Harry had taken on a mentor-like role with Neville, helping him whenever he asked and guiding him in improving his magical skills. This relationship, it seemed, had been enough for the tournament organizers to select Neville as Harry's hostage.
With a swift cutting charm, Harry severed Neville's bindings. The ropes drifted away in the gentle current, dissolving into nothing – clearly enchanted to disappear once cut.
Harry's eyes were drawn to Gabrielle, Fleur's young sister. For a moment, he was tempted to rescue her as well. However, he was confident in Fleur's abilities and knew she would arrive in time. Moreover, the rules of the competition prevented him from taking more than his own hostage.
As a precaution, however, Harry secretly cast a monitoring charm on Gabrielle. The spell, invisible to the naked eye, would alert Harry instantly if the young girl's life was in any danger.
Without spending any more time in the village, Harry grasped Neville firmly with one hand. Using the other, he created another powerful jet of water, propelling them both rapidly towards the surface.
As they neared the surface, Harry could hear the muffled sounds of excitement from above. Clearly, their rapid return had been noticed.
"Movement on the lake!" Bagman's voice boomed, audible even through the water. "Something's coming up fast! This is too soon! Did something go wrong? It's... it's Potter! And he's got his hostage! Unbelievable! It has only been around five minutes since the start of the task!"
Harry and Neville broke the surface with a splash, landing gracefully on another conjured ice platform. The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, their excitement palpable even across the expanse of the lake.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I don't believe what I'm seeing!" Bagman was practically shouting now, his voice cracking with excitement. "Hadrian Potter has completed the task in record time! And without even getting his hair wet, it seems!"
Indeed, Harry stood on his ice platform, looking as composed and dry as he had at the start of the task. Neville, on the other hand, was soaking wet and looking around in bewilderment, clearly trying to piece together what had happened.
After ensuring Neville was safe with the medics, Harry calmly vanished all the ice he had created, leaving the lake's surface as pristine as it had been before the task began.
"And now Potter is... tidying up after himself?" Bagman sounded both amused and impressed. "Well, I suppose when you make as grand an entrance and exit as that, you want to leave things neat and tidy!"
As the crowd continued to cheer and speculate wildly, Harry took a seat on the platform, seemingly content to wait for the other champions to return. His face betrayed no emotion, but his eyes remained fixed on the lake's surface, alert and watchful.
"Folks, I've seen a lot in my time, but never anything quite like this," Bagman concluded, his voice filled with awe. "Hadrian Potter has not only completed the task in record time but has done so with a display of magic that... well, I'm not sure I have words for it. We'll just have to wait and see how the other champions fare, but I think it's safe to say that young Mr. Potter has set the bar incredibly high!"
As the excitement in the stands reached a fever pitch, Harry sat calmly, his eyes on the lake's surface, watching for any sign of disturbance or danger. Harry knew from experience that in events like these, particularly with the disguised Barty Crouch Jr. potentially interfering, trouble was almost inevitable.
As he sat there, appearing to all the world as a confident champion basking in his victory, Harry was in fact poised and ready. Ready to dive back into those dark waters at a moment's notice, ready to face whatever challenges might arise, ready to save the day once again if needed. It was a role he was accustomed to, a responsibility he had shouldered many times before.
The waiting game had begun, and Harry was determined to be prepared for whatever the Black Lake might still have in store.