Harry Potter 04 - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Dobby,’ Harry said hopelessly. ‘I’m not doing the task, I don’t know how –’
    ‘Harry Potter will do the task!’ squeaked the elf. ‘Dobby knew Harry had not found the right book, so Dobby did it for him!’
    ‘What?’ said Harry. ‘But you don’t know what the second task is –’
    ‘Dobby knows, sir! Harry Potter has to go into the lake and find his Wheezy –’
    ‘Find my what?’
    ‘– and take his Wheezy back from the merpeople!’
    ‘What’s a Wheezy?’
    ‘Your Wheezy, sir, your Wheezy – Wheezy who is giving Dobby his jumper!’
    Dobby plucked at the shrunken maroon sweater he was now wearing over his shorts.
    ‘What?’ Harry gasped. ‘They’ve got … they’ve got Ron ?’
    ‘The thing Harry Potter will miss most, sir!’ squeaked Dobby. ‘And past an hour –’
    ‘–“the prospect’s black”,’ Harry recited, staring, horror-struck, at the elf, ‘ “Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back …” Dobby – what’ve I got to do?’
    ‘You has to eat this, sir!’ squeaked the elf, and he put his hand in the pocket of his shorts and drew out a ball of what looked like slimy, greyish green rat tails. ‘Right before you go into the lake, sir – Gillyweed!’
    ‘What’s it do?’ said Harry, staring at the Gillyweed.
    ‘It will make Harry Potter breathe underwater, sir!’
    ‘Dobby,’ said Harry frantically, ‘listen – are you sure about this?’
    He couldn’t quite forget that the last time Dobby had tried to ‘help’ him, he had ended up with no bones in his right arm.
    ‘Dobby is quite sure, sir!’ said the elf earnestly. ‘Dobby hears things, sir, he is a house-elf, he goes all over the castle as he lights the fires and mops the floors, Dobby heard Professor McGonagall and Professor Moody in the staff room, talking about the next task … Dobby cannot let Harry Potter lose his Wheezy!’
    Harry’s doubts vanished. Jumping to his feet he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, stuffed it into his bag, grabbed the Gillyweed and put it into his pocket, then tore out of the library with Dobby at his heels.
    ‘Dobby is supposed to be in the kitchens, sir!’ Dobby squealed as they burst into the corridor. ‘Dobby will be missed – good luck, Harry Potter, sir, good luck!’
    ‘See you later, Dobby!’ Harry shouted, and he sprinted along the corridor and down the stairs, three at a time.
    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 leapt down the stone steps and out into the bright, chilly grounds.
    As he pounded down the lawn he saw that the seats that had encircled the dragons’ enclosure in November were now ranged along the opposite bank, rising in stands that were packed to 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 towards 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 towards them.
    ‘I’m … here …’ Harry panted, skidding to a halt in the mud and accidentally splattering Fleur’s robes.
    ‘Where have you been?’ said a bossy, disapproving voice. ‘The task’s about to start!’
    Harry looked around. Percy Weasley was sitting at the judges’ table – Mr Crouch had failed to turn up again.
    ‘Now, now, Percy!’ said Ludo Bagman, who was looking intensely relieved 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 obvious 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 further away from Krum. ‘Know what you’re going to do?’
    ‘Yeah,’ Harry panted, massaging his ribs.
    Bagman gave