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Chapter Text

“Harry Potter! Did you put your name in the Goblet of Water?” Dumbledore stormed into the room, yelling angrily, showering Harry in saliva from the sheer force and fury with which he shouted it. Behind him, Ludo Bagman, Alastor Moody, Madame Maxime, and Igor Karkaroff stood awkwardly, with Bagman scratching his head anxiously, while Maxime whispered something to herself in French. Karkaroff in the meantime was staring at Fleur Delacour with an unreadable, yet somewhat longing expression, while Moody was drinking out of a suspicious flask. On the other side of the room, Cedric was pacing around sadly, knowing that his moment in the limelight had been stolen by the chosen one, and appeared catatonic.

“Well you see Professor, actually, I didn’t…” Harry started, “It all began when…”

“Ahh, let’s just cut to the chase Harry my boy,” Dumbledore chuckled, “Here, let me just use Legilimency on you to read all your memories.”

With that, Dumbledore pointed his wand at Harry, and whispered something. Harry saw his memories flowing back: cuddling and cozying up with Hermione, snogging Hermione, plotting to murder Ron with Hermione, and of course, no sign whatsoever of him putting his name in the Goblin of Water.

“Oh well,” Dumbledore clapped his hands, although he looked incredibly salty at having to see the memories of Harry kissing Hermione, “I guess you are innocent. Okay then, Moody my darling sweetheart, any ideas who could have done it?”

Professor Alastor Moody shook his head, “No idea Dumbledore, but it must have been a very dark wizard who did it, very dark indeed, possibly even a black wizard.”

Viktor Krum snorted, looking affronted, interjecting himself into the conversation, “Are you telling me that you are prejudiced against black people?”

“No, of course I am not, never,” Moody shook his head, looking sick at the very idea of potentially being considered a racist, “I’m talking about magical alignment, not racial stuff. I am in fact an avowed and dedicated anti-racist, working to make Britain more multicultural and diverse. Just last week I paid for two dozen migrants to come illegally to Britain on a small boat. Black wizard referrs to the colour of their heart, not their skin.”

“Oh good, excellent! You are very progressive!” Krum exclaimed excitedly, clapping his hands together like a little boy who had just got a model train set for his birthday, “I’m really progressive too, I have recently been working on an essay called ‘Why Britain needs at least 10 million Indian migrants to solve the labour shortage,’ I think it might be a masterpiece.”

“I’d love to read it sometime,” Moody smiled toothily, “It’s always good to be around a fellow liberal, there’s too many centrists, and worse, conservatives, around here these days.”

“I personally prefer progressive actually, liberals are basically conservatives in the grand scale of things, and conservatives are all basically crypto-fascists,” Krum said seriously, “And also, just so you know, I identify as non-binary and genderqueer.”

“Even better. And you are totally right of course, conservatives are truly the absolute worst of the worst,” Moody said, clearly wholly supportive of everything Krum was saying, “I’m gay myself, and proud of it, as Dumbledore is already well aware.”

Dumbledore grinned, “Of course, though no one will ever beat Grindelwald for me, but oy vey, he is in prison now. However, Barty… I mean Alastor makes a fine substitute. Still, since both of us are gay, we might as well be gay together!”

“Always happy to help,” Moody said, gazing longingly at Dumbledore, who straightened his hat bashfully, licking his lips as he looked back at Moody.

Cedric in the meantime was still pacing, whispering about how much he loved diversity, while Fleur was laughing hysterically at the conservation, while sitting away in the corner to avoid having to engage in it, muttering to herself, “Ahh, all zis woke nonsense. At least I never fell for their deranged propaganda.”

Harry couldn’t help but agree, as he couldn’t think of anything better than kissing Hermione, something that now occupied about 30% of his time awake, and had resulted in his tongue becoming very muscular from all the wrestling it did with Hermione’s, which was incredibly sneaky as it happened, although his tongue was somewhat stronger. In fact, in order to keep their tongue fitness at maximum levels, Harry and Hermione made sure to wrestle their tongues every day, although the more cynical Gryffindors often snidely remarked that this was just an excuse to spend more time making out in the common room, annoying everyone else there in the process.

Karkaroff was still standing back looking creepy, while Madame Maxime was shaking her head and whispering about the lack of diversity in the room. Cedric stopped pacing in the mean time, as he was exhausted, and slumped down into a chair, falling asleep, his loud snoring snapping everyone out of their little bubbles.

“Well, that’s all settled,” Dumbledore exclaimed, winking at Moody flirtatiously, “Off all of you go. Except you Moody, I think we should… chat in my office, until late. Very very late, if you catch my drift.”

“Brilliant idea,” Moody smiled, and the two peculiar men, on e middle aged, the other incredibly elderly, linked their arms together and walked off upstairs, leaning into each other, whispering and giggling like little girls sharing rumours during lunch. Harry grimaced, finding the scene absolutely disgusting, but quickly forgot about it as he walked out the room, as the moment he stepped out, Hermione, who had evidently been waiting for him, flew right into him at full speed, pushing him right up against the wall, as they started to snog passionately again.

“Why is it called the Goblet of Water anyway?” Harry asked, in between kisses, as he ran his hand through Hermione’s hair.

“Because to put your name into it, you have to place a slip of paper with your name in it, and then you have to… pass water in the goblet until the goblet is completely full,” Hermione informed him, ever the know-it-all, which was, honestly, one of Harry’s favourite parts about her.

“That’s disgusting!” Harry exclaimed, “Are you seriously telling me that the other champions did that?”

“Yes, they must have done,” Hermione replied, “It only works if the urine genetically matches the person whose name is on the slip of paper.”

“Surely there must be a less disgusting way to do that?” Harry wondered.

“Probably,” Hermione answered, “But we are talking about Dumbledore, and he is completely and totally insane.”

“As always, what you say is entirely true,” Harry replied, massaging her ego, as he picked Hermione up, bridal style, causing her to squeal in delight, wrapping her arms around his neck and cuddling up to him, her bushy brown hair brushing against him. Harry walked out of the castle, Hermione still in his arms, towards the lake shore, so that they could watch the sunset together, as they very often did, ever since they had got together late last year, after the hippogriff ride to save Sirius had brought them unexpectedly close.

Once there, they lay down, right on the soft grass, and watched the sunset, and then the stars, holding each other's hands, with not a care in the world, and no words shared, merely enjoying the simple pleasure of each other’s company. Only much later, after several hours had passed, did they finally snap out of it, quietly sneaking back to the Gryffindor Tower under the cover of Harry's invisibility cloak, so as not to get caught by the caretaker, Argus Filch, or his cat, Mrs Norris.

Chapter Text

“Oh Harry, please promise to be safe!” Hermione’s suddenly sounded from behind Harry, as she burst into the champion’s tent, wrapping her arms tightly around him. “I’ve read thousands of books about dragons, and some of them can be really quite dangerous. I mean, at least you can transform into one, but still, be careful, please.”

“Hermione, seriously, I’m okay, I’ll be fine, I promise,” Harry managed, as Hermione squeezed him so tight he could barely breath, “And are you even allowed in here?”

“No, I’m not,” Hermione said shamelessly, “But I really wanted to have another snog with you.”

“Fair enough,” Harry shrugged, and pressed his lips against Hermione’s, and they started making out passionately, wrapping their arms around each other.

They were making out so passionately, arms wrapped around each other, eyes closed as they savoured the sensation, that they didn’t even notice Rita Skeeter scamper over with a camera (she had fired her camera man because he was a white heterosexual male, and was still in the process of hiring a replacement, as illiterate Somali migrants were not very good at operating cameras) and took loads of pictures, already drafting the headline out loud, “Harry Potter exposed for being straight… or maybe Harry Potter sparks outrage for not being gay? He's definitely a homophobe, probably a transphobe too. I'll write an article demanding that Potter starts dating a black transgender bisexual woman immediately, that will do well I'm sure.”

Eventually, after what felt to them like it was just a few minutes, but was actually half an hour, they felt a tap on their shoulders, and turned to see a beautiful slivery-blonde girl with dark blue eyes that seemed to suck them in. “Excuze me,” Fleur started, “I know zat you English are very uncultured, but ze task is about to start, and ze ‘Arry needs to get his dragon.”

“Sorry,” Hermione said, uncharacteristically sheepishly, as she brushed her hair out of her face and giggled at Fleur in a suspiciously girly manner, while Harry contented himself with merely salivating on the floor as he gazed at Fleur, which was fast turning into a puddle at his feet.

“Well, I’ll be off then,” Hermione winked, although it was unclear if the wink was aimed at Harry or Fleur, and she scampered off with a spring in her step back to the spectator’s grandstands.

“Ze girlfriend you have is very strange,” Fleur shook her head, “But at least she is very nice to look at. You chose very well Harry, I wish you all ze best in your relationship, and I hope it lasts a very long time.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Harry muttered, as he wiped his mouth clean of saliva, “So, where do we get the dragons?”

“Bagman is just over there,” Fleur said, and she led Harry over to the other corner, where Ludo Bagman was holding a bag.

“Everyone is here, finally,” Bagman snarled, looking furiously at Harry, “We were waiting half an hour for you to finish snogging that harlot, the whole first task had to be delayed!”

“It’s not my fault,” Harry retorted, staring daggers into Bagman, “And don’t you dare call Hermione a harlot, you are one to talk, you disgusting fat slob!”

“I’m not that fat,” Bagman snorted, “I’m just chunky, plus sized, jolly, you know? Anyway, everyone, reach into the bag, and pick out a dragon.”

Cedric reached in first, harshly swatting Fleur’s hand away from the bag, “Ladies first but men just before, ha ha ha!”

He pulled out a Chinese Fireball dragon, and cackled, “Thank god, I got an easy one! It won’t stand a chance against me!”

Next, Krum reached in with his big hairy hand, again harshly swatting Fleur’s delicate hand away, pulling out a Swedish Short-Snout. Harry decided he felt rather bad for Fleur by now (and definitely not because of the influence of her allure) and decided to let her go before him, and she picked out a Welsh Green, the easiest and tamest of the dragons, in fact it was so friendly it was known to actively seek out human company, and were effectively already tame. That left just Harry, and he reached in, pulling out the hardest dragon of them all, the Hungarian Horntail, which was known to actively savour the taste of human flesh.

Fleur paled as she saw it, “Good luck, ze Harry, zou will need it.”

Cedric was first up, and stormed out of the tent, to fight his dragon. Within mere seconds of him leaving, a loud “Evada Kedavra” was heard, and the sound of a dragon falling dead echoed towards the tent. Some cheers erupted, but they were all very quiet and rather apprehensive; Harry got the feeling that few had expected a champion to use an unforgivable curse.

Fleur was next, and she walked out, swaying her hips gently yet enchantingly, Harry’s gaze mesmerised by the beautiful sight. Once she was out, Harry didn’t hear even a single spell be cast, although there was the sound of the dragon sighing contentedly as Fleur petted it gently, since the dragon was incredibly friendly by its nature. Consequently, the quarter-veela easily completed the task, and Harry heard a mix of cheers and boos mere moments after she walked out, with most of the cheers seemingly being from the boys, and most the boos from the girls, although strangely, quite a few of the girls were also cheering.

Krum readied himself, knowing that it was his turn, and he ripped off his shirt aggressively with a snarl, revealing that he had breast implants, and walked out confidently. However, this was short-lived, as Harry heard the horrific sounds of Krum punching against something solid, and moments later there was a horrific howl in pain and the sound of a dragon biting into something soft and fleshy. It was about that moment that Harry saw two healers hurriedly rush in with a stretcher, both looking extremely worried, while the audience whispered in horror.

Harry had to wait a few moments for Krum to be removed and the blood to be cleared away, but when he finally went out, he saw the Hungarian Horntail right before him, huge and intimidating. Yet, despite this being the most dangerous dragon, Harry had a plan that he and Hermione had been formulating since second year; they had become animagi, several times over. Harry’s animagus forms were: reindeer, dragon, ant, and gerbil; while Hermione’s were: dolphin, porcupine, fox, and hedgehog. Eclectic collections indeed, but they had come in very useful for their exploring of the distant parts of the Hogwarts grounds. This would certainly come in handy today, but it would mean exposing himself as an unregistered animagus to the entire wizarding world, which would be suboptimal to say the least.

So Harry, in the interests of not getting caught out, so as he walked out towards the Hungarian Horntail, he conjured a massive fire-proof shield above himself, and levitated the dragon. He could feel everyone in the stands watching as he walked over to the egg that had been under the dragon, grabbed it, and walked off, setting the dragon safely back down as he walked into the finishing tent. Behind him, there was a scattering of applause, though it wasn’t all that loud. In the tent, Harry saw Krum undergoing extensive and risky life-saving and reconstructive surgery, while Cedric and Fleur sitting to the side, both totally unharmed.

“’Arry, I just thought you should know that I was very grateful for you being zuch an English gentleman earlier and letting me go first,” Fleur said, standing to greet him, “Maybe we can have some little chats sometime? But only if you bring Hermione with you.”

Harry nodded, as being around Fleur could obviously only be a good thing, or so he thought to himself as he gazed vacantly at the beautiful part-veela girl, her long flowing hair, her slender toned arms, her large perky…

Harry shook himself, knowing he couldn’t go there, especially since he was dating Hermione, who he truly and wholeheartedly loved. He knew he had to be loyal to her, after all, cheating was completely intolerable, and one of the worst things one could do to one’s partner. It was a hard line he had drawn for himself, and one he would never cross, ever. With this willpower giving him strength, Harry’s mind returned to his normal thoughts, those being of snogging Hermione.

Chapter Text

The first term of Harry’s fourth year at Hogwarts had passed shockingly quickly, particularly as there wasn’t any notable events, especially since the first task was now over. However, one event loomed, the Yule Ball, which drew ever closer and the Christmas holidays approached.

Harry was very excited for it as Hermione had been alluding to the fact she was getting a very nice dress specially for the occasion, while he in the mean time had been on the hunt for a suitably flattering tuxedo and flashy jacket. Luckily, this didn’t take long, as he found a tailor that would do measure him at Hogsmeade during one of the weekends they were allowed to go there. It was rather expensive, and Harry quietly thanked his dad for being so incredibly rich.

The day of the Yule Ball came on the 25th of December, and Harry stood in the entrance hall, dressed him is perfectly tailored expensive tuxedo, feeling smart. He looked on at Cedric, who was dressed in a rainbow coloured mismatched suit, the rainbow colours clearly symbolising the pride flag. Nearby stood Viktor Krum, who, now fully recovered from his earlier injuries, was dressed in a pinky frilly dress, revealing his disgusting hairy chest, and was telling everyone who would listen about he was “Helping to destroy toxic masculinity expressing his gender non-conformity.”

Finally, he looked at Fleur, the only other champion apart from Harry who was wearing something normal, a striking red and black ballroom gown. She glanced at Cedric and Krum with a viscerally disgusted look, she then briefly turned to Harry, offering him a little smile, which made his stomach do several somersaults, from the feeling he got of Fleur’s allure washing over him. Still, he knew, both in his heart and mind, that Hermione was the only girl for him, so he tried his hardest to keep his mind from straying again.

Soon enough though Harry was rescued from this, as he heard footsteps on the grand staircase, and turned to see Hermione descending down towards him, her hair straightened, though it was still wavy. She was dressed in a beautiful azure coloured, long, flowing, gown that clung to her body like a snake wrapped around its prey, and elbow length opera gloves, which, in Harry’s humble opinion, looked incredibly flattering. Harry adjusted his bow tie as Hermione walked over to over to him, smiling.

“Harry, you look absolutely wonderful!” Hermione beamed at him earnestly, as she swiftly, yet elegantly, took his arm in hers, visibly excited for the Yule Ball, assuming it would be an enchanting fairytale traditional affair.

“Thanks,” Harry replied, feeling Hermione’s infectuous energy, and offered a sarcastic comment underselling her, “You don’t look too bad yourself,” but she gave him a playful glare, and so he quickly added, “But honestly, you do look truly angelic, like a diva, very ethereal. Too bad we don’t have time for a quick snogging session before the Yule Ball starts.”

Hermione nodded in agreement as the doors to the Great Hall opened to reveal the striking decorations, the hall had been completely transformed. The champions were to come in first with their partners first; so Cedric walked in with his Chinese girlfriend, Cho Chang (who was dressed in a hanfu, looking very out of place), then Viktor Krum with a disabled wheelchair-bound homosexual black man, a very odd pick for a date to a ball, Harry thought. Finally, there was Fleur Delacour with a Ravenclaw boy called Roger Davies, who Harry recognised as their Quidditch team captain from last year, and they walked in, although Davies was clearly having a lot of difficulty keeping his gaze forward.

Finally, it was Harry and Hermione’s turn, and they walked down the length of the hall to the front. Once the two of them were also stood on the raised podium at the front, the rest of the students trooped in, with Ron jealously staring at Harry, as he sulked, for he had failed to get a partner, and as such had to dance with the caretaker, Filch, who also didn’t look to happy about the arrangement (although Dumbledore had insisted on it).

Once everyone was in the Great Hall, Dumbledore coughed loudly to get everyone to quiet down, as he walked to the front of the podium, “Okay goyim, I mean students, it’s time for the Yule Ball, to celebrate the holy day of Christmas, when that great man Jesus was born, who brought salvation to Europe, which before that was a disgusting and backwards continent.”

Just then, Fleur interjected harshly, loudly shouting so that everyone in the Great Hall could hear her, “Don’t leesten to ‘im, he is lying. This is ze Midwinter, or Yuletude, and a traditional European holiday! The Christians co-opted it in order to destroy our ancient European roots, to make us forget who we truly are!”

“Thank you for that uncalled for contribution,” Dumbledore growled saltily, as he tightly clenched his fists, “Now, before we watch the champions do their first dance, I would like to say a few brief words. Firstly: diversity is our strength. It doesn’t matter if you are Nigerian, Chinese, Indian, or Native American, you are welcome here at Hogwarts. It also doesn’t matter if you are gay, pansexual, lesbian, transgender, or genderqueer, you are still welcome at Hogwarts! So, always remember, Diversity is good, diversity is a strength! Multiculturalism isn’t just a positive, it is a necessity.”

Fleur was shaking her head as Dumbledore was saying this, and whispering to Roger Davies, “Don’t you ‘ear all this horrible woke stuff? They want to erase us and our culture. But we won’t let them, will we now?”

Roger was nodding along, although his mind was clearly on other things. Fleur sighed, “The things I will do for France, and for Europe.”

Harry turned to Hermione, “Dumbledore is rather insane isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Hermione nodded, “But it’s time for us to dance now.”

As the music started, the young couple began to dance to the soft ballroom melody, a gentle and beautiful tune from many years ago, relishing in each other’s company. Fleur was struggling to guide Roger Davies, as he was staring at her vacantly and seemingly going limp, in most places at least. Cedric in the meantime was dancing reasonably normally with Cho Chang, although their ridiculous clothes did make them stand out, while Krum was having to resort to spinning his partner’s wheelchair around in circles, while the disabled black guy in it grunted loudly in appreciation.

Soon, the first dance was over, and Dumbledore skipped back to the front, now looking more excited, “Alright guys, I’m sure we all found that really boring and pointless. So, time for some excitement, we’re going to have some proper real music, everyone please welcome to Hogwarts… the Weirdo Sisters Rap Collective!”

Five rough looking black men trooped out lazily, all smoking rolls that were clearly not cigarettes. As they walked in, the violinists trudged out the hall, disappointed.

“Ayo, homies!” one of the men yelled into his microphone, his trousers slipping down slightly, “Shiii, I be happy to be in this Hogwarts in like London or wherever we be like shiii. So like we gonna be like rapping yeah man. Let’s get some beats rolling yeah! I is gonna show yez all a real party now, oh yeah my new homies!”

The other four men nodded along in agreement, one of them reaching into his baggy trousers to pull out a bottle, which he started drinking from, and another one squatting down to defecate on the floor, evidently being to lazy to go to the toilet. The other two were already starting to jump up and down, yelling vulgar profanities into their microphones seemingly at random.

A horrific beat started blasting out the speakers, which caused Harry and Hermione to instantly cover their ears in horror, while Dumbledore, Krum, and several others were instantly vibing to it; Dumbledore muttering to Snape matter of factly, “This really is real music, such talent, so much hidden meaning.”

Deciding he had had enough within mere seconds into the rap, Harry tugged on Hermione’s hand gently. She instantly understood what he meant, and allowed him to lead her out of the great hall, where by now the hundreds of students there were dancing to the rap music, whose lyrics were so morally degenerate that Harry nearly felt sick. Finally, Harry and Hermione burst out the main doors, walking a bit further to get away from the noise, and finally, exhausted, settled themselves down on a bench in the nearby courtyard.

“You alzo decided not to stay?” a voice in a French accent behind them startled Harry.

“Fleur?” Harry turned, guessing, as Hermione held onto Harry’s hand tighter, leaning against him.

“Yes, it is me,” Fleur nodded, “Clearly, you two are also not fully programmed by ze establishment yet. Zis is good, but I doubt you are fully enlightened yet.”

“I don’t even know,” Hermione said breathily, “I mean, all we have to read here is what is in the Hogwarts library. I’ve seen some rather degenerate stuff in the sections on gender and sex, but apart from that, I’m not sure.”

“Then allow me to gift you two a book, by ze German by ze name of Spengler, although I have ze feeling that only ze Hermione will read it,” Fleur said, with a laugh, carefully handing Hermione an old-looking book, which Hermione took carefully with a blush as her fingers briefly touched Fleur’s, “Oh, one little thing I’d just like to know, ‘Arry, have you figured out the egg clue yet?”

“No,” Harry said sadly, “honestly, I’ve hardly even been thinking about it, with all the stuff going on.”

“Let me help you then, but you have to promise to actually read the book I gave you,” Fleur said, looking at Harry in a mock stern expression, “It is a very important book, that explains so much about ze modern world.”

“Of course, I mean, yes, I will read it,” Harry stumbled over his words as he felt Fleur’s gaze upon him, “I’ll start tomorrow, with Hermione.”

“Okay, you need to open ze egg underwater, and then listen, understood?” Fleur explained, before standing back up, “So, zat’s all I wanted to say.”

“One thing,” Hermione managed, her cheeks red, looking very clearly worked up, “Could you please turn your allure down, just a little bit? It’s really… overwhelming, and overpowering, I can’t think straight when you are around.”

“Zat is not possible, sorry,” Fleur giggled, “I can’t control it consciously, it activates whenever I see someone I like. You two should feel flattered really. Anyway, good luck, both of you. And remember, there is more to life than snogging! When you realise that, your relationship will ascend to ze next level.”

With those final cryptic words, Fleur skipped off, muttering something about new converts to the true cause, and wondering how long she should wait before introducing Guénon, or even Evola. Harry and Hermione curled up together, both feeling very tired. The book, whose title read ‘The Decline of the West’, lay resting between them. Both would soon start reading it, tomorrow, opening their eyes to problems they previously didn’t even realise existed.

Chapter Text

A few days later, Harry and Hermione once again found themselves sitting at the shore of the lake, although this time with an intent beyond a particularly passionate snogging session.

“Alright Harry,” Hermione said, holding onto his arm reassuringly, “You know what to do. Hold your breath.”

Harry nodded, and placed the egg underwater, opening it, and ducking his head down after it into the lake, closing his eyes. What filled his ears was not the horrific screaming he had heard earlier when he’d opened the egg in the common room, but instead a chorus of angelic voices, reciting an odd riddle.

Once it was done, Harry resurfaced, gasping for air, and Hermione looked at him, slightly concerned, and used the excuse to grab Harry’s hand and squeeze it tightly, “Well, Harry? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed, wrapping an arm around Hermione, to which she practically purred, “I didn’t hear a word of what they were saying though, I was too busy fantasising about kissing you.”

Hermione blushed, “Harry! Behave! But fine, let me do it.”

After casting a spell on her hair to stop it getting wet, Hermione ducked down with the egg, and after listening to the singing coming from it, she nodded, “Yes, I’ve got it. Basically, they are going to abduct the person that you care about most, and then you will have to rescue her from the bottom of the lake.”

“Her?” Harry smirked, “You are incredibly presumptuous. Though, I do admit, bravely saving you from the bottom of the lake does sound very romantic.”

“Exactly,” Hermione beamed, “And imagine what sort of a kiss the damsel in distress would give to her brave rescuer, when she awakens in his arms?”

Harry breathed in uncharacteristically deeply as Hermione said that, “Oh I can’t wait.”

“That’s my Harry,” Hermione smiled, and they got back to snogging, their tongues growing ever more muscular, “And I’ve got just the thing to help you rescue me, while I’ll tell you later.”

The day of the task finally arrived. Hermione had been taken from the library when Professor McGonagall had shown up there while Hermione was busy reading ‘Advanced Newt Level Charms’, while Harry kept her company, while re-reading the book Fleur had given then, ‘The Decline of the West’. In fact, Hermione had practically skipped off when McGonagall called for her, winking cheekily at Harry as she had done so.

Now, Harry stood by the edge of the lake, trying his best not to ogle Fleur, who was dressed in a sleek one-piece swimsuit that clung to her body as if it was vacuum-sealed onto her, although it was noticeably conservatively cut, not revealing more skin than it had to. After reading Spengler, he had began to understand better, but the temptation was still there, and he wasn’t sure it would ever fully go away, after all, he couldn’t help it, Fleur’s allure was a powerful magical force.

The other champions were less appealing to look at, Krum ripped off his robes revealing that the only thing he was wearing was a bikini, and he had got an enormous tattoo across he entire back of two naked men with their arms wrapped around each other, engaged in what could very generously be described as ‘extremely heavy petting’, with ‘LGBTQ PRIDE’ written in block capitals both above and below it. Next to him stood Cedric, who was wearing rainbow coloured swimming trunks, and holding his stomach nauseously. A nasty farting sound and squelch confirmed it: he had defecated in his swimming trunks.

However, there was no time for him to clean himself, as Dumbledore strode out to address the champions and gathered spectators, “Ladies, Gentlemen, Non-Binaries, Genderqueers, Two-Spirits, Transsexuals, Transgenders, and Bigenders, welcome to the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, dedicated to the glory of the LGBTQ community, which will involve the champions rescuing whoever is most precious to them. On your marks, get set, and go!”

Harry pulled his Gillyweed out his pocket and began chewing on it, before jumping into the lake, the cold water briefly shocking him, although he quickly adjusted to it with the help of his wand. Krum in the mean time had transformed himself into an enormous shark, and Cedric had rushed off to the toilet crying, wailing like a little girl, faeces dripping out from his rainbow swimming trunks. Apart from him, only Fleur managed a competent charm, conjuring up a persistent air bubble around her head, elegantly jumping into the water, and swimming off gracefully.

Not wanting to be left behind, Harry jumped into the water too, and swam down, as he felt the Gillyweed take effect and gills appear on him, his hands and feet becoming webbed between his fingers and toes, speeding up his swimming. He was sure he could catch up to Fleur, but it was Krum he was worried about, for Krum was already quite violent, and considering he was a shark now, it could be very risky being near him.

Deeper and deeper Harry swam, following the lakebed, as he didn’t know where to go exactly to find his girlfriend, but figuring it would be out closer to the middle of the lake. As he went deeper, less and less light reached him, and eventually, when he swam into a mass of long stringy plants, which Hermione could probably name, but he didn’t have the foggiest idea, perhaps they were reeds of some sort. Yet Harry pressed on, swimming through the reeds, swatting them out the way as he went on.

“’Arry!” He suddenly heard to his left.

“Is that you, Fleur?” he deduced, as he could recognise that soft French voice anywhere, although his voice came out as a stream of bubbles, rather than any recognisable speech.

“Yes, it is me, ‘Arry. I need to ask you something,” the voice continued, and Harry saw Fleur swim over, “Did you read ze book that I gave you?”

Realising that he couldn’t speak while underwater, Harry nodded, which clearly pleased Fleur, who pointed towards the centre of the lake, “Good. Now, ze mer-village is over there. Go quick, and only save ze Hermione.”

Harry wondered why Fleur was helping him, but decided that it was best to take her advice, since he didn’t have any other ideas about which way to go, and where Fleur had pointed seemed about right, so he swam off, unaware of why Fleur was helping him. Fleur smiled to herself, by building trust with Harry, she could make sure he wouldn’t reject the truth when it came time to unveil it to him. After all, he was so important to the destiny of the world…

Soon enough, as the reeds grew thinner, and eventually disappeared, Harry saw it: a mer-village, and in the centre, tied to a post, there were four people, he saw a young girl who looked very much like Fleur, perhaps her sister, Harry deduced. Then, there was the Chinese girl Cho Chang, who had been Cedric’s date at the Yule ball, and so was Krum’s, although of course the homosexual black man did not require a wheelchair underwater. Then finally, there was Hermione, tied to the post, her eyes serenely closed.

The sight of Hermione in ropes tugged at something primal in Harry; to see her incapacitated like this infuriated him, nothing like this could be allowed to happen to her. He pulled out his wand, ready to cut her loose.

Immediately, mermen with spears approached from all sides, but Harry, driven by the instinctual rage of seeing Hermione in such a state, cast a powerful Depulso, sending all the merman flying away at high speeds. He cast a spell to cut Hermione free, but as he swam over to catch Hermione and swim to the surface with her, he saw Fleur’s sister again. It wasn’t safe for her here, what with Krum, and the mermen too probably. And also, why would Fleur direct him here if she could have come here herself, it didn’t add up. After a moment of pondering, Harry decided for it, and cut the girl loose too, and began swimming up with both of them, his girlfriend held in his right arm, and Fleur’s sister in his left.

The surface drew ever closer as Harry swam upwards, sunlight reaching his face now, though the additional weight of having to pull two girls up with him slowing him down. Nonetheless, eventually Harry broke through the surface of the water, looking around to see how far he was from the platform he had started at. It was quite a while away, so he resumed swimming, but as he did, he felt Hermione stirring, so sped up, wanting to make sure their waking moment was as romantic as she had hoped it would be.

And, as it if was somehow planned by some higher power, just as Harry was about to pull Hermione up onto the platform, her eyes opened, staring into Harry’s with pure love.

“Harry!” she gasped, “You did it! I’m so proud of you!”

Her lips crashed against his, and Harry tasted salty seaweed (which was strange as the Hogwarts lake was freshwater and as such wasn’t supposed to be salty) but he supposed it added to the ambiance.

Fleur walked over on the platform, “Oh ‘Arry, thank you for saving my sister Gabrielle! Ze Grindylows got me before I could get there, but I knew I could count on you.”

Harry and Hermione both paused their kiss to look up at her, slightly red-faced, as Fleur helped Gabrielle up, who hugged her tightly.

Smiling at her younger sister, Fleur continued, “I won’t intrude on your time too much, but ‘ere, I ‘ave another book zat you might like to read.”

With that, she handed Hermione another book, this one titled, ‘Revolt Against the Modern World’.

“Looks interesting,” Harry commented, while Hermione ran her hands over the cover, muttering, “Evola… that name seems slightly familiar…”