Underwater Rescue

After a quick recap of the cousins' antics, Myrtle begrudgingly agreed to help George find the fairy. She was highly familiar with every part of Hogwarts' plumbing and seemed confident in knowing where the fairy would have ended up. It turned out that all sewerage in the castle would drain into a tunnel network connected to the Black Lake. Different houses had different tunnels and Myrtle had been through all of them. So... the only real problem was reaching the right tunnels.

George was standing 'on' the Black Lake in the middle of a snowstorm. It was December in the Scottish Highlands, which meant minus five degrees Celsius. There were several inches of ice separating him from the water. For what George had planned, the conditions were not ideal. Even with his durability, he didn't underestimate the peril of entering those waters.

After waiting in the cold for a few minutes, George was greeted by a ghost sticking her head through the ice. Myrtle spun around until she spotted George.

"Over here, George. I found her."

George ran over and asked, "great. Not dead, I presume."

Myrtle shrugged, "I don't know. She might have been asleep. How am I meant to tell?"

"Nevermind", George said while beginning to undress.

He got down to his boxers and asked, "so, are we above the cave's entrance?"

Myrtle nodded, "pretty much. There's a lot of seaweed covering the opening.

"No matter. With your guidance, I'll be fine", George said while placing his clothes in his enchanted sack.

Fortunately, the protective leather sleeve was water-tight, so George didn't have to leave the sack on the surface. George pointed at the ice, and a jet of fire flew out of his fingertip. The stream of concentrated fire bore straight through the foot of ice and boiled the water on the opposite side. George guided his finger around him to cut a perfect circle in the ice. He knew he'd finished once the ground under him shifted, leaving him floating on a little iceberg.

George jumped off the disk of ice and kneeled down. He shoved his arms down the gap he'd melted and felt for the underside of the ice disc. Once he had a grip, George gritted his teeth and pulled with all his strength. The nearly half a ton of ice slowly lifted out of the lake and was slid to one side. George picked up his sack and wand, got back on his feet, and turned to address Myrtle.

"Ready?"

Myrtle, who'd been watching him from afar, answered, "you really are quite weird. Have you ever been swimming in a frozen lake before?"

"I haven't ever been swimming before. The deepest water I've experienced was a warm bath", George responded nonchalantly.

Myrtle paused before bursting out into a fit of giggles.

"I have to say, your utter disregard for your personal safety is quite amusing."

"I'll have you know, this is perfectly safe, Mrs Warren. Now, follow me down and, if you could be so kind, give me some swimming tips on my descent."

Then George stepped forward and fell into the freezing water. He quickly sank into the lake's depths and could no longer be seen from the surface. From George's perspective, the surface became the only source of light. His surroundings became more dark and murky the deeper he dived. By the time he reached the endless field of seaweed, he could barely see more than a yard in front of him.

It goes without saying, it was extremely cold. However, it felt like a warm bath after the day George had with his patron. Contrary to what he'd expected, the silence paired with the gentle pressure as he sank was surprisingly relaxing. Sadly, the peace had to be spoiled as a blue glow began to catch George up. Myrtle glided down to him and conveniently illuminated the dense strands of seaweed surrounding them. But even with the extra light, George still couldn't see the lake's floor.

George mouthed, "nearly there?", at Myrtle and she responded with a nod.

As they kept going down, Myrtle suddenly looked like she wanted to say something. Her mouth was moving like she was talking normally, but George couldn't make anything out. It just sounded like a muffled whale song.

George mouthed, "repeat yourself, slowly."

Myrtle appeared to understand and continued to speak, but with exaggerated mouth movements. Most of what she said got through to George except for the last word.

"I should look out for what exactly? I don't understand."

Myrtle gave up after the third try and George didn't particularly mind. She was probably warning George of the lake's inhabitants. Other than the giant squid which was living in the deepest part of the lake, he wasn't worried. With his wand and strength, George believe he could hold his own in a pinch. If all goes to plan, he'd be in and out of this lake before the fishes even knew he was there.

It took nearly half a minute for George to descend to the lake bed. The sand was incredibly soft underfoot and gave him barely any traction to walk. With Myrtle as his beacon, George slowly waded towards the opening of a cave. His initial impressions were not great. The entrance was barely a crack in the rock face which George wasn't hundred per cent sure he'd fit through. Myrtle didn't share his concern as she continued without him.

With his only light source escaping, George sucked in his gut and delve headfirst into the crack. The next minute for him was a claustrophobic's worse nightmare. George couldn't move his hands or feet once he was roughly ten feet in. He was reduced to using his fingers and toes to push himself along. Jagged rock kept snagging on his back and chest, slowing his progress to a snail's pace. It didn't help that Myrtle was long gone, leaving George in pitch black.

It took a good chunk of George's waning air reserves, but he eventually reached a cave where Myrtle was waiting for him. She didn't look very impressed as she pointed behind George. He turned back and saw the water was dyed red. Then he looked down and saw several gashes running down his chest. The cold must have numbed him because George could hardly feel a thing. Presumably, there were similar injuries on his back as well.

Since there was nothing he could do about it here, George waded over to the nearest wall and began to climb. He could see the water's surface only a few feet above him. Although it could be an illusion, George could swear he could see glowing green rocks on the cave ceiling. His head eventually reached the surface and was greeted with one of the foulest smells George had ever inhaled. It was almost bad enough to go back under instead of taking a breath.

Myrtle wasn't wrong, this was definitely where the sewerage leaves the castle. That would also explain why the water had become murkier. Good thing George had never opened his mouth after entering the crack. Although this place was pretty repulsive, the ceiling more than made up for the smell. It turned out the green glow was coming from shiny stalactites. Their structure and shape were so perfectly moulded, like thousands of jade daggers hanging from the roof.

The light passively emitting from Myrtle reflected off every stalactite to illuminate the entire cave in a green glow. While George was busy inspecting his beautiful surroundings, he heard Myrtle cough.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

George looked down and saw Myrtle floating beside a stone outcropping. She was pointing at a smooth rock resting on top of a pile of pebbles. George swam over and realised the rock was actually the fairy curled up. Her black winds were covering her body like a leather blanket. He climbed up and carefully picked the fairy up. It was cold to the touch and didn't react to his presence. As Myrtle had said, it was still unconscious. But, George could tell it was still alive due to one reason. He could feel his magical aura being siphoned again.

Thanks to his patron, this twisted fairy was sort of 'bonded' to George. Once, it used to live off the ambient energy present in the forest, similar to the ghosts at Hogwarts. Now, the only ambient energy it can absorb is George's. It must be near him at all times to leach off his power, or, it would slowly and painfully starve. In this case, they'd only been separated for about an hour. Any longer and it could have died.

Although the biological change might seem unfair or cruel at first, George felt the fairy was better off overall. It got plenty of benefits in the deal. For one, the energy George gave off was way denser than the school or forest. That meant the fairy could live much longer and perform more advanced magic. Its physical attributes were also improved, hence why George hadn't assumed it had died. For the price of following George around all day, he considered the fairy very lucky.

Most importantly, not many can have the privilege to be improved by their patron. And that's what it was now, their patron. The fairy was family, like George's other brothers and sisters. With time, it will learn what it means to be a part of their patron's great work. George pulled out the jar and placed the fairy back in its home. He used some strips of duct tape to cover the air holes so it didn't drown on their way back to the surface. Then he turned around and thanked Myrtle.

"Thank you again, Mrs Warren. Without you, this little one would have died. You are its hero."

"Yeah yeah, sure", Myrtle off-handedly said while staring up at the ceiling.

Since she seemed to be interested in the green stalactites, George thought he might as well make the most of his time here. He climbed as high as he could until his head was amongst the minerals. He grabbed one of the smaller stalactites and tried to price it from the ceiling. A few cracks formed before the stalactite broke free in his hand.

Then George waved it at Myrtle, "you can consider this an early Christmas present."

Myrtle's face lit up, "really, for me?"

"Sure, it's the least I can do. You'll have to think of somewhere nice to put it in your bathroom", George answered while opening his sack and carefully lowering the stone inside.

Myrtle tried to hide it, but George saw a little warmth return to her ghostly face. Since she appeared extremely happy with the present, he felt it was worth getting a few more for the Linwoods. He did recall that Amanda liked pretty stones. For what his patron needed him to do this Christmas, it would be wise for him to butter his foster parents up.

Conveniently, the stalactites got easier to detach with every one George broke off. After the third, they started falling all on their own. One by one they plummeted into the water. Then large groups of stalactites broke off and fell like boulders, one of which missed George by a few inches. Within a matter of seconds, the cave looked like it was about to collapse.

George dropped the last stalactite, took a deep breath, and dived under the water. Myrtle joined him soon after with the same 'we should leave right now' expression as George. Before any more chunks of rock could potentially cover the exit, George thrust the jar and sack into the crack before forcing himself through. George threw caution to the wind as he desperately scrambled his way through the tight passage.

The stalactites were definitely still falling since George could feel them brushing against his leg. One landed on his ankle and made his entire foot go numb. Even with one foot out of action, he kept pushing himself forward. Of all the fates that might befall George, to die in a turd cave because of some pretty rock was not acceptable.

Luckily, salvation was in sight in the form of endless seaweed. George made it to the end of the crack and was back on the lake's bed. Myrtle looked exceptionally relieved to see him in one piece, but there had still been a toll. The water around George was slowly turning red from the wounds on his back and chest. His rush to leave had left a lot of deep wounds, plus a left foot that was pointing the wrong way.

Since this couldn't wait, George reached inside his sack and pulled out a green vial. This potion was one of three vials his patron had given him in case of emergencies. The cousins had the other two. George placed the vial in his mouth and bit down. Then powerful itchiness covered most of his body, mainly around his foot and ribs. The healing process happened within a couple of seconds, and besides some rapidly fading scars, George was good as new.

George looked up and could still see a circle of light indicating where he'd entered. Having spent a few minutes in the water, he felt ascending shouldn't be too difficult. Even if he couldn't, his wand could always be used as a last resort. Sadly, things are rarely so easy. From behind Myrtle, George saw the seaweed move unnaturally. It seemed he had company.

Whether it be the blood or the cave-in, George had caught the natives' attention. He whipped his head around and saw more seaweed move on his left and right. Whatever was coming, it was playing smart and circling him. Instead of ascending into a trap, George dug his feet into the sand and pulled out his wand from the sack. With a good two minutes of air to spare, he could afford to wait for their move.

After a couple more seconds, blurry figures began to appear. There were five in total and they were coming at George from all sides. With each of them brandishing tridents, the mermaids closed in cautiously. Myrtle was a bit late to notice them, she seemed too distracted wondering why George wasn't moving. It was only once a mermaid swam right behind George did she jump in surprise. She desperately tried to wave her hands to get George's attention, presumably to warm him, but he simply ignored her.

From what George could tell, the mermaids were not here to fight. They were armed but lacked any sign of aggression. The largest of the group lowered her trident and pointed at George. Then she moved her hand up to the hole he'd made in the ice. The leader waited for his response after that. Seeing no need for a fight, George put away his wand and nodded.

The leader advanced even further and held out her hand. George was a little surprised by its candour. Mermaids weren't known for their friendly personalities, but rather for their volatile and xenophobic nature. This one was different. She was adorned with clothing, unlike the rest. From crude metal jewellery in her braided hair, to strips of seaweed woven into a breastplate, this mermaid seemed more advanced. George could see a keen mind behind those yellow eyes.

George grabbed the mermaid's slimy hand and shook it firmly. This action seemed to confuse the leader and unsettle her friends. George looked around and noticed the other mermaids were gripping their tridents very tightly. Sensing he'd done something wrong, George let go and bowed his head. Hopefully, genuflecting was universal amongst all species.

"Please, raise your head."

George wasn't expecting to hear such a coherent voice. He lifted his head and saw the large mermaid smiling back.

"We do not… shake hands here. You understand?"

George nodded, and she replied, "your headmaster asked us to return you to the surface. May I aid you?"

"This is Dumbledore's doing", thought George, "how conveniently timed."

Since his options were limited to agreeing or drowning, George decided to accept their help. After another nod, the leader grabbed George's arm and yanked him off the lake's bed. The massive fishy tail didn't seem to struggle at all as they quickly approached the hole in the ice. The speed they were ascending was unreal, George could barely keep his eyes open. Just before they reached the surface, the mermaid let go of him. His momentum launched George out of the hole and face-first onto the ice.

Back on solid ground, George took many deep breaths to exhale all the methane from the cave. Once his lungs were refilled with fresh country air, he climbed to his feet. Standing before him was Dumbledore, just as the mermaids had said. The old man was wearing a thick green robe with a furr inner lining. A grey fluffy cap blended into his snow-white beard. His expression was as stoic as ever.

"I can't believe you just swam away without me. You could have at least…"

Myrtle flew up through the ice, clearly unhappy with George, but she froze after seeing Dumbledore.

Dumbledore turned to her and asked calmly, "ah, Myrtle. Could you return to the castle while I speak with George?"

Myrtle timidly nodded before flying away without saying another word. After she was out of sight, Dumbledore walked up to George and held his arm out.

"Grab my hand."

George looked at Dumbledore with a face void of emotion before turning around and walking towards the hole. He placed his bare foot on the edge of the ice he'd pulled out and kicked it back into the lake. Then he put the jar and sack on the ground, pulled out a towel and began drying off.

"You can dry yourself off somewhere warm if you grab my hand."

George ignored Dumbledore and kept using the towel until his body was dry. After that, he put the wet towel away and pulled a new uniform out. He meticulously dressed himself, taking the extra time to ensure his appearance was perfect. Once that was done, he opened the jar and pulled the sleeping fairy out. He checked it was still alright before placing it in his chest pocket. After a gentle tap, George finally turned back to Dumbledore.

"Apologies, headmaster. My prior appearance was unbecoming", he said politely.

Then George walked toward and tightly squeezed Dumbledore's arm, "am I doing this right?"

Dumbledore acted ignorant of George's passive aggression and blatant rudeness. Neither did he react to his forearm being crushed under George's grip.

Instead, he merely smiled warmly and answered, "yes, that's fine. Do prepare yourself. The first time can be quite nauseating."

The next second, Dumbledore and George vanished with the sound of a whip cracking.