The entrance hall contained a few last-minute stragglers, all leaving the Great Hall after breakfast and heading through the double oak doors to watch the second task. They stared as Harry flashed past, sending Colin and Dennis Creevey flying as he leaped down the stone steps and out onto the bright, chilly grounds.

As he pounded down the lawn, Harry saw the seats from the first task dragon stadium in November were now ranged along the opposite bank, rising in stands built over the water of the Great lake that was packed to the bursting point and reflected in the lake below. The excited babble of the crowd echoed strangely across the water as Harry ran flat-out around the other side of the lake toward the judges, who were sitting at another gold-draped table at the water’s edge. Cedric, Fleur, and Krum were beside the judges’ table, watching Harry sprint toward them.

“I’m. .. here. . .” Harry panted, skidding to a halt in the mud and accidentally splattering Fleur’s robes.

“Where have you been, Mr. Potter?” said an authoritative, disapproving voice. “The task’s about to start!”

Harry looked around. McGonagall was looking at him disappointedly and a little angrily.

“Now, now, Professor McGonagall,” said Ludo Bagman, who was looking intensely jolly to see Harry. “Let him catch his breath!”

Dumbledore smiled at Harry, but Karkaroff and Madame Maxime didn’t look at all pleased to see him.. .. It was evident from the looks on their faces that they had thought he wasn’t going to turn up.

Harry bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath; he had a stitch in his side that felt as though he had a knife between his ribs, but there was no time to get rid of it; Ludo Bagman was now moving among the champions, spacing them along the bank at intervals of ten feet. Harry was on the very end of the line, next to Krum, who was wearing swimming trunks and was holding his wand ready.

“All right, Harry?” Bagman whispered as he moved Harry a few feet farther away from Krum. “Know what you’re going to do?”

“Yeah,” Harry panted, massaging his ribs. The preparations for the task had caused him to be a little late — a little too late.

Bagman gave Harry’s shoulder a quick squeeze and returned to the judges’ table; he pointed his wand at his throat as he had done at the World Cup, said, “Sonorus!” and his voice boomed out across the dark water toward the stands.

“Well, all our champions are ready for the second task. I won’t waste any more of your time and pass it on to Quinn West for him to continue the task.”

The stands were built above the lake, supported by vertical beams holding them above the surface; as such, there was a good amount of space between the seating area and the lake. From that gap below, the students saw Quinn coming out, and it set them lit in murmurs and discussion.

Hermione and Ron were sitting with Lily Potter to support their friend’s mother because they knew that Ivy was under the lake and Harry was about to go inside.

As Hermione watched Quinn enter their sight, she elbowed Ron in the sides, hitting him in the ribs. “.. . Is he walking on water?”

Ron was so engrossed to see Quinn walk on water that he could only nod his head. But Lily Potter did confirm Hermione’s question. “Yes, dear. Quinn is walking on water.. .”

Quinn walked a little distance on the water to the point where he didn’t have to feel uncomfortable craning his neck to look at everyone in the stands.

“Be honest,” he started looking at everyone with a smile, “you’re thinking how I’m doing this, aren’t you?”

There were many “yeses” from the crowd, and Quinn could see a lot of necks craning and students standing up to get a better look at him.

“Being honest myself, I’m pretty cool right now,” he hopped on the water a couple times, showing that there was no trick here and he was indeed solidly standing on water.

It wasn’t that difficult to walk on water — an intermediatory water spell and anyone could replicate what Quinn was doing right now. The wow factor was because no one did it and because “walking-on-water” was an action tied closely to Jesus Christ, and religion was popular everywhere — be it magical or non-magical. Look at Friar; he was a cleric monk when he was alive, and even after his death, he was a devout practitioner of his religion.

Quinn smiled at the nods he received from the crowd and was about to continue when he felt a tremor beneath his feet. His smile cramped for a second. He raised his right foot and tapped it on the water, sending tremors back into the lake — hidden from everyone looking at him.

“Ahem, I’m sure since November, all of you must have heard at least one or a couple theories about the second task — all kind of speculations and conjectures in our beloved Hogwarts rumor mill, tingling curiosities up and down the castles.”

Another water tremor came back to him, and the Kraken, who was looking to play (fight), replied back sulkily at Quinn’s refusal water tremors.

‘Alright, not that’s over with.. . .’ He spread his arms wide and continued.

“Now, as we stand here, on the Great lake, all of you must have some inkling about the task — at least that it’s water-related,” he glanced at the champions standing at a separate platform, “the champions know what they have to do and what is at stake here. The first task was all about them, but this time around, it’s not just themselves they have to worry about — this time around, there are more things on the line.”

All four champions displayed a different level of nervousness as they stood staring at the lake — all four knew what Quinn was talking about.

“Before I move on, I would start the task and get our champions working,” said Quinn taking out a small white sphere with red veins all around. He dropped the sphere into the water. “I’m sure they’re eager to get inside there and start their task. Before they actually go in, I can only share a couple of things — they have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them.”

“But before they go, I would like you to introduce all of you and them to what we’re going to for the hour they’re inside.”

He closed his right eye and raised his fake wand to the sky. Once again, like the first task, the light bent in the sky and a vast illusion of an underwater scene.

“This is the live feed of what’s happening inside the Great lake. There won’t be much to do for the hour the champions are underwater, so we will be watching them from here.”

Quinn still had his right eye closed, and that was because his right eye was currently connected to the sphere he had dropped underwater — an artificial eye that he had planned and researched since his second year (Chapter 61) and had been actively building since this year (Chapter 140).

In 「 Project: Drone-Vision 」,

Quinn’s right eye’s vision was cut, and his optic nerves that connected his eyes to the brain were magically getting optical signals from the artificial eye. The artificial eye was covered with a protective coating of an air bubble that kept it separated from the water.

He could literally see what the artificial eye was catching — it was a little disorienting to see two completely different scenes. But he had gotten used to it.

“Now, champions, on the count of three, the countdown starts, then. One. .. two. .. three! Start!”

The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause; without looking to see what the other champions were doing, Harry pulled off his shoes and socks, pulled a vial of moss green potion out of his pocket, stuffed it into his mouth, and waded out into the lake. He had drunk a gillyweed potion that he and Hermione had brewed together. Harry clapped his hands around his throat and felt two large slits just below his ears, flapping in the cold air.. .. Quinn had gills. Without pausing to think, he did the only thing that made sense — he dove deep inside the lake — to get his twin out.

Victor Krum cracked his neck as he pulled out his wand and pointed it towards his head. The action made Quinn furrow his brow a little; he knew what was about to come — partial transfiguration around the head area was a tricky thing, and Quinn wasn’t sure if the pro-seeker was adept enough to safely pull it off. Victor’s head twisted into a shark head with jagged teeth and beady eyes.

And just like the originals, Cedric and Fleur used bubblehead charms to filter the air out of the water to provide them oxygen underwater before they dove inside to rescue her girlfriend and little sister. It was a charm that Quinn didn’t use underwater, but when he had to deal with potions that released toxic fumes during brewing.

‘Ah, these guys have it so easy,’ thought Quinn and exhaled a big sigh as plenty of memories of being pushed around in the water, being lost in darkness, being cut, among other things like being smacked around by giant tentacles, flashed inside his mind.

Quinn shook his head and pulled himself out of the flashbacks, ‘Yeah, so easy.. . .’

“Now that the champions are inside let’s see how they’re doing.” The illusion overhead changed as the eye moved. They could only see ten feet ahead so that as the eye sped through the water, new scenes seemed to loom suddenly out of the oncoming darkness: forests of rippling, tangled black weed, vast plains of mud littered with dull, glimmering stones.

First, they saw Cedric swimming freely, but the very next second, his ankles were grabbed a grindylow, a tiny, horned water demon, poking out of the weed, its long fingers clutched tightly around Cedric’s leg, its pointed fangs bared — Cedric stuck his hand quickly inside his robes and fumbled for his wand. By the time he had grasped it, two more grindylows had risen out of the weed, had seized handfuls of Cedric’s clothes, and were attempting to drag him down.

Sparkles shot from his wand, and the grindylows were pelted with what seemed to be jets of hot water, for where it struck them, angry red patches appeared on their green skin. Cedric pulled his ankle out of the grindylow’s grip and swam as fast as he could, occasionally sending more jets of hot water over his shoulder at random; every now and then, he felt one of the grindylows snatch at his foot again, and he kicked out, hard; finally, he felt his foot connect with a horned skull, and looking back, saw the dazed grindylow floating away, cross-eyed, while its fellows shook their fists at Cedric and sank back into the weed.

“Grindlyows were a little blip, but it seems that Cedric is doing well — let’s move on to another champion.” His commentary wasn’t needed as people were a little too engrossed in the visuals.

The eye moved, and soon they saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. It had paintings of merpeople on it; they carried spears and chased what looked like the giant squid. A cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom on all sides. Here and there at the dark windows, everyone saw faces. .. faces that bore no resemblance at all to the painting of the mermaid in the prefects’ bathroom.. . .

The merpeople had grayish skin and long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks. They leered at Harry Potter as he swam past; one or two of them emerged from their caves to watch him better, their powerful, silverfish tails beating the water, spears clutched in their hands.

Harry sped on, staring around, and soon the dwellings became more numerous; there were gardens of weed around some of them, and he even saw a pet grindylow tied to a stake outside one door. Merpeople were emerging on all sides now, watching him eagerly, pointing at his webbed hands and gills, talking behind their hands to one another. Harry sped around a corner, and an extraordinary sight met his eyes.

A whole crowd of merpeople was floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. A choir of merpeople was singing in the middle, calling the champions toward them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue, a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. Four people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson.

Ivy was tied between Daphne and Cho. There was also a girl who looked no older than eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made everyone feel sure that she was Fleur Delacour’s sister, Gabrielle Delacour. All four of them 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.

“Ah, Victor Krum is here,” said Quinn as he, a half-shark half-man, entered the illusion above.

Victor Krum sped toward the hostages, half expecting the merpeople to lower their spears and charge at him, but they did nothing. The ropes of weed tying the hostages to the statue were thick, slimy, and very strong. He looked around. Many of the merpeople surrounding them were carrying spears. He swam swiftly toward a seven-foot-tall merman with a long green beard and a choker of shark fangs and tried to mime a request to borrow the spear.

The merman laughed and shook his head.

Victor roared fiercely (but only bubbles issued from his mouth), and he tried to pull the spear away from the merman, but the merman yanked it back, still shaking his head and laughing.

Harry was watching the entire thing from the side while keeping an eye on Ivy. He swirled around, staring about. Something sharp. .. anything. .. Rocks were littering the lake bottom. He dived and snatched up a particularly jagged one and returned to the statue. He began to hack at the ropes binding Ivy, and after several minutes’ hard work, they broke apart. Ivy floated, unconscious, a few inches above the lake bottom, drifting a little in the ebb of the water.

Harry looked around and saw that the shark-man swam straight to Daphne and began snapping and biting at her ropes; the trouble was that Krum’s new teeth were positioned very awkwardly for grinding anything smaller than a dolphin, and Harry was quite sure that if Krum wasn’t careful, he was going to rip Daphne in half.

He looked at Ivy before turning to Daphne — he knew that while his sister and Daphne fought a lot, but once they had been very close — close enough that if Ivy was awake right now, she would help Daphne right now.

Darting forward, Harry struck Krum on the shoulder and held up the jagged stone. Krum seized it and began to cut Daphne free. Within seconds, he had done it; he grabbed Daphne around the waist, and without a backward glance, began to rise rapidly with her toward the surface.

‘Now what?’ Harry thought. Fleur’s Delacour sister looked a little too young to be here, and she was looking a little green. But after thinking for a while, he decided to leave — Fleur had done better than everyone else in the first task, better than him, and she had used pure magic and not other skills like flying like he had.

‘She would be here soon,’ he thought and took off.

And as Harry swam away, he saw Cedric swim past him towards the merperson stone statue.

Cedric reached the statue, and now the merpeople were standing close to Cho and Gabrielle. Cedric pulled his wand out. “Get out of my way!”

Only bubbles flew out of his bubblehead cover, but he had a distinct impression that the mermen had understood him because they suddenly stopped laughing. Their yellowish eyes were fixed upon Harry’s wand, and they looked cautious. They moved away, giving Cedric space, who immediately shot a slicing hex at the thick bindings, freeing Cho.

“Alright, three hostages have been freed, with only one remaining. Let’s see how the fourth missing champion is doing.. .. now, we just have to find where she is.”

Quinn felt sonar tremors into the lake, and eventually, he got the feedback. He had found her. The artificial eye immediately trod water, and the scene everyone saw what was Fleur Delacour up to.

“Ah.. . so this is where she was.”

Fleur Delacour was wrapped up in black weeds. They were tightly wound around her arms, legs, and torso. The black weeds weren’t attached to the soil but were broken, and their other ends were held by multiple toothy grindylows, who were pulling the weedy-ropes while Fleur struggled, but the little demons’ gang work was a little too strong for Fleur.

“It seems that Fleur has lost her wand,” commented Quinn, and the illusion zoomed into the wand sitting down at the lakebed.

Suddenly, Fleur directly looked at the “camera,” and she mouthed out words frantically. While others weren’t able to understand the words, Quinn could as he read her lips. She was begging for Quinn — specifically, to rescue her sister and that there wasn’t much time left.

Quinn, of course, knew that Gabrielle wasn’t in any danger; she would be pulled out at the end of the hour. But then he saw something that concerned him a lot. Fleur’s figure and face were slightly shifting.

‘She is shifting into her Avian form.’ Fleur was panicking.

From his talks with Fleur and his reading, Quinn knew that in their Avian form, Veelas weren’t able to control magic properly.. . if she fully transformed, then there were solid chances that her bubblehead charms would pop and then.. . .

“Ah, damn it.”

Quinn West – MC – Human(Wizard/Magical) Projector/Drone.

Champions – 4 people – Doing their thing.

Hostages – 4 people – Doing nothing.

FictionOnlyReader – Author – Inspired by Gaara’s sandeye.

FictionOnlyReader – Author Update – Day 2 of 4 of end-terms is over. 4 out of 8 subjects are done. Half-way through. There won’t be chapter tomorrow as I need to prep. Actually, this was supposed to drop tomorrow, but I completed the latest chapter early, so here you go.