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THE WATER WAS SO COLD that it burned as Albany plummeted into the murky depths. Her breaths were heavy in her bubble mask as she struggled to keep her eyes open and see through the darkness; Faith's words were ringing in her ears, and George's absence was constantly worrying her from the back of her mind while her focus on the task at hand dwindled. Vaguely in the shadows of her peripherals, she noted Krum and Fleur swimming out of sight, and attempted to gather her thoughts.

It didn't matter how cold it was (it did), George and Faith could wait (could they?); once she found whatever she was looking for, she could finish the stupid task and address her other issues.

What am I looking for?

Albany quickly made the decision to remain close to the surface as she cast the guiding light spell. She hadn't practiced casting anything while still maintaining the Bubblehead Charm yet, so the precautions were a necessity. She was pleasantly surprised as the familiar ball of light illuminated the water in front of her, before it slowly began to drift down.

Down, down, down.

Albany drew in a shaky inhale before pursuing the light, swimming away from the comfort of the surface. The pressure of the water all around her felt like an iron cage, and if it weren't for the light guiding her path, she might have been swimming all the way to the underworld. Trying to ignore the jittery nerves that grew stronger with each stroke, she kicked harder and continued the dive.

The lake was really fucking deep, though as adrenaline coursed through her veins, the numbing cold became less of an issue. Pond weed grew in towering columns from the lake bed, and Albany shivered as it brushed against her body, slimy and sticky. The light drifted on for ages, further and further from safety. Her muscles ached the longer she pursued it, and her core had cramped up painfully, but she pushed through it, desperate to finish the task as soon as possible.

Eventually, the sandy bottom of the lake was in sight. Albany breathed a sigh of relief as she reached out to touch it and confirm what her vision was reporting. The sand rose in a cloud where her fingers disturbed it, and she set her jaw, swimming onwards after the light. It couldn't be any further now, surely.

The glowing orb disappeared into another thick clump of pond weed, and Albany groaned as she followed it. The plants seemed to wrap around her limbs as she pushed through them, wincing at the sensation as slimy tendrils tangled with her arms and legs. The clump was incredibly dense, and Albany was beginning to wonder if she was moving at all when eventually her head broke through to the other side of it. Just ahead was her guiding light, drifting slowly through a town of ruins. Albany's eyes widened in surprise as she noticed merpeople swimming in and around the place, though they were quite unlike those depicted in books; and that was when she noticed the arch.

At the top of the collection of ruined buildings was a grand archway, towering above the rest of the buildings. Merfolk circled it defensively, wielding tridents and spears; though that wasn't what had caught Albany's eye. No, tied to the arch were four students, still clad in their school robes, hair billowing around them in the water's soft current.

Albany's heart dropped immediately — why were there students tied to the bottom of the lake? But then the light continued to drift towards them, and it all clicked into place.

A treasure had been stolen from each of the four champions, and hidden in the lake for them to find. The students were the treasure. Their friends, and....

"George," she realised aloud, horror forming a nauseating pit in her stomach. He'd been missing all morning. He'd been in a lake all morning. "Oh fuck."

In a panic, Albany flailed to free the rest of her body from the clump of pond weed, but her left foot was firmly trapped in the plants, out of sight of her eyes. She turned around, kicking viciously, though the grip around her ankle only tightened.

"Lumos," she hissed, reaching to part the weed with her free hand and attempt to untangle herself. But it wasn't pond weed grasping her foot.

It was a little webbed hand.

The grindylow clutching her ankle emerged from the pond weed with bared teeth, and that was when they all swarmed her. Too many grindylows to count surrounded her, each one latching onto her skin and pulling and biting and screeching. Albany shrieked in pain, throwing around her limbs in a desperate attempt to scare them off, but their grips didn't so much as loosen.

"Stupefy!" she yelled, but then a row of teeth sank into her shoulder and she cried out, her wand lost to the water as both hands instinctively reached to push the grindylow away.

The Bubblehead Charm popped.

Albany's heart plummeted as she thrashed, the light from her lost wand dimming as it disappeared. The water demons didn't let up at all, continuing to rip and yank and tear at her, while pressure built up in her burning lungs. She wanted to scream out for help, to at least cast the red sparks of surrender, to help George — but her wand was long gone, and she couldn't hold her breath forever, and she couldn't even shake off the grindylows.

Her lungs screamed for air, and instinctively her mouth opened, as much as she knew she couldn't. Water rushed to flood her airways and she was unable to scream as it burned her from the inside out. Precious bubbles left her mouth, rising in the lake and out of her reach, as was everything; George, the surface, her wand.

Her thrashing slowly ceased as exhaustion replaced panic, as numbness replaced pain. The grindylows were the least of her worries anymore as her mind began to blank, dark spots dancing in the corners of her vision.

I'm dying, she thought vaguely, with the sort of ironic humour you could only regard such a situation with. I fucking told Merlin this would happen, that bitch—

In the blink of an eye, her tragic death was interrupted. Albany hit the bottom of the lake with a heavy thud as the water all around and beneath her was pushed back, creating a large pocket of air around her body. The grindylows scattered as she struggled to cough up copious amounts of lake water, the wet sand below her sticking uncomfortably to her arms and legs. Albany's eyes watered as she retched, at last breaths of air relieving the agonising fire in her lungs.

"Take a minute before you head back out again," advised a soft, feminine voice.

Albany continued to splutter, and found her limbs were trembling so severely she could barely move to turn and acknowledge her saviour. Fleur? she wondered vaguely, but the voice had not possessed the charming French accent of her fellow champion. She winced as Evander's watch began to shine brilliantly from her wrist; it was blinding after being surrounded by the darkness of the lake.

"The grindylows are mischievous little things," the woman remarked, the slightest twinge of humour to her tone. "I'm sorry you had to encounter them this way."

Mischievous? Albany echoed, breathing too heavily to speak. The fuckers would have happily watched me die.

She barely acknowledged the watery blood that dripped from her wounds as she managed to turn around, eyes falling upon the woman that had come to her rescue. She stood just outside the pocket of air, though didn't appear to be struggling to breathe in the water; in fact, she wasn't breathing at all. Her dark hair surrounded her head like an ebony halo, gently flowing with the lake's currents. Her smile was kind and affectionate, and if it wasn't for the fact that Albany had never seen a woman anything like her before in her life, she might have appeared familiar.

"Who...." Albany tried to ask, but her voice was hoarse and her throat felt as though it had been cut.

"Who am I?" The woman smiled, speaking easily and clearly through the water. Albany glanced warily at her legs; she wasn't a mermaid. Then what was she? "So Merlin hasn't mentioned me yet, I take it?"

Albany nearly sighed. Another one of the wizard's secrets, then. They came in an endless supply. For a brief moment, she worried that perhaps she was facing another Morgana of sorts, but something about the woman made her want to trust her. She shook her head, refraining from speaking again.

The water woman's eyes were a deep blue, and they gleamed as she took in Albany's expression. "It's been centuries, yet you do look so very like him," she noted, smile sweet and nostalgic. "I wish we had met sooner."

Albany's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The question still hadn't been answered.

"Oh, of course," the woman laughed. Her face was youthful, though ghostly pale, and it creased gently as she beamed down at her. "My name is Freya. And just as you are Merlin's direct descendant, you are mine."

Albany gaped, and then narrowed her eyes, suspicious. For someone so important, it did seem odd that Merlin had never mentioned her, regardless of all his secrets. "He never—" she croaked, but could barely continue.

Freya's expression softened. "Never said anything about me?" she guessed, smile sobering. "I guess I expected as much. I don't think I was truly the one he loved, though I did bear his child."

Albany frowned, confused. Freya shook her head, smiling.

"A matter for another time," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "You have a task to return to, do you not? Are you feeling better?"

The last thing Albany wanted to do was return to the task and face the grindylows and water again. "I have questions," she croaked, and pushed herself into a sitting position on the wet sand. "Please?"

Freya smiled. "Of course."

"How are you — the water?" Albany asked, and coughed again. Her hair was dripping wet, and she was beginning to grow cold again as the adrenaline slowly faded.

"Well, I've been dead quite a while," Freya admitted with a chuckle. "I have no need for breath."

Albany blinked. I guess that makes sense?

Freya's smile softened. "I am a spirit of the water now," she murmured. "I chose this to help Merlin after I died, and I became the Lady of the Lake of Avalon."

Albany frowned. "But this—"

"This is the Black Lake, yes," Freya finished. "But I can exist in its waters. And a good thing I can, too, or else you might not be here right now. Merlin cannot do this as a spirit." She gestured to the pocket of air.

Albany shivered. I was really dying, a horrified voice reminded her in the back of her mind.

"However, I will not be able to remain here long," Freya warned. "And you have a friend to save, I noticed."

Albany's heart dropped at the reminder. "George."

"Don't fret," Freya advised. "I in no way believe this will be our final meeting. If ever you need me, seek out the water."

"Wait," Albany insisted, struggling to her feet on wobbly legs. Her chest was aching with a sudden desperation to cling on to her time with this woman — with her direct ancestor, who actually told her stuff, who had saved her life; "I — I have more questions, please?"

Freya extended her arm from the water then, and reached into the pocket of air to grasp Albany's arm and steady her. She felt as real as the sand beneath Albany's feet; unlike Merlin and Arthur's ghosts.

"I'll have to redirect your questions to Merlin, I'm afraid," Freya murmured kindly. "I am running out of time. You are doing so well, my dear. I'm so proud of you."

Albany was caught by surprise as Freya's arm gently guided her towards the water's edge, though didn't struggle. She remained still as her forehead brushed the edge of the air pocket and was met with the soft press of lips against her hairline. A pleasant warmth blossomed within her ribs, and she stepped back again, glancing up at Freya in surprise.

Freya beamed at her. "So proud," she echoed, and her other hand extended out to Albany, her wand in its grasp. "You'll be needing this, I assume."

"Th-thank you," Albany stammered, taking her wand gratefully as her free hand rubbed at her sore throat. She cast the Bubblehead Charm again, heart rate increasing as she braced herself. "I'll see you again?"

Freya smiled. "Of course," she assured her, and with a wave of her hand, the air pocket began to shrink, water closing in on Albany once more. "And Albany?"

Albany spun around, staring at her. Freya's smile was solemn.

"Soulmates..." she murmured, eyes wandering as if to gaze into the distance. "They don't always work out the way you would expect. Merlin was mine... but I was not his. Never let destiny rule your relationships."

Albany, feeling thoroughly overwhelmed with the sudden influx of new information, could only nod.

"Until next time," Freya said, and as the water closed around Albany fully, she disappeared into the darkness of the lake.

Albany was left alone in the murky water, heart and thoughts racing. She let herself float for a moment, her mind a scrambled mess, before her eyes caught the arch in the distance and she gathered her thoughts. George was still counting on her.

Albany began swimming again, limbs shaky and weak but filled with a new determination to save her best friend. She paid no attention to the stinging wounds along her arms and legs as she kicked her way through the ruins and watching merfolk. Their yellow eyes followed her as she approached the arch, though to her immense relief, they made no move to attack her.

Tied to the rock structure were only three students left, and Albany recognised Harry struggling to free all three of them as merpeople harassed him. She swam forward with haste, eyes locking onto George's expressionless face where he floated on a thick rope, small bubbles occasionally leaving his nose and mouth. Harry was hacking at his rope with a sharp-edged stone as she reached him, though curiously, the boy was not using the Bubblehead Charm.

"You okay?" Albany asked him, frowning with worry until Harry pointed to what looked like gills behind his ears. His hands and feet were webbed too, she noticed. What the hell kind of drugs did he take?

Harry attempted to speak to her, though nothing but bubbles left his mouth, and his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. He spun around as a merman began pulling at his arm, the creature's grey features contorted and angry.

"Only one!" the merman hissed, and though Harry's argument was surely passionate, he spewed nothing but more bubbles.

"I'll take George, it's okay," Albany assured the pair, heart racing a little faster as Harry passed her the rock he was using. She began to saw as hard as she could at what was left of George's rope, determination pushing the ache in her muscles to the back of her mind. Eventually, the rope snapped, and George slowly began to float upwards.

Harry began gesturing vigorously to the third hostage; a young girl, no older than eight, remained tied to the arch as her silvery hair billowed around her face. Albany glanced around the underwater town, hoping to see the champion whose hostage it was, but nobody appeared. She glanced back to the girl and to Harry, wishing he could speak.

"Krum's?" she asked, and Harry shook his head, pointing to the surface. "Fleur's?"

Harry nodded, expression worried. He glanced at the watch Albany wore around her wrist, pointing to it.

"It's broken," Albany explained awkwardly, showing him the still watch face. It's glow had long faded, leaving nothing but hands that pointed to the wrong time. She glanced around again; there was still no sign of Fleur.

The merman was creeping closer to them, and others approached behind him. Albany didn't miss how their grips had tightened around their weapons; they seemed serious about each champion only taking one hostage.

She glanced back to the girl. What if something had happened to Fleur? Would the girl be left for the grindylows? Surely not... but the school didn't really seem to have anything against putting kids in mortal danger.

"I don't think Fleur's coming," Albany whispered to Harry. "We can't leave her here alone."

Harry nodded, and was immediately seized by two merpeople. Another lunged for Albany, but she was quick to whip out her wand and point it at the creature, stopping it in its tracks. Her breathing was heavy as she acknowledged the fear in the mermaid's eyes, and she waved her wand more aggressively at it. It hissed at her before darting away, powerful tail whipping up a small current. Harry followed her lead, and the mermen gripping him left with haste as he brandished his wand. Apparently, the lake's inhabitants didn't know much about magic.

Not that she really did either. Fuck, she really was learning something new every day. Her thoughts were momentarily brought back to Freya before Harry gave her a hard nudge; he had freed the girl from the ropes that bound her, and now all three hostages floated upwards slowly.

Albany kicked her legs hard, swimming upwards to meet George. His expression was so peaceful it was horribly unlike him. He could be dead. She ignored the way her heart skipped a beat at the very thought, and wrapped her arms around his waist before attempting to pull him up to the surface.

The key word was attempting, really, because her swimming was weak as it was, and her legs and arms were screaming in pain, and with the added weight of his drenched school robes, George was really fucking heavy.

She glanced worriedly to Harry, who was struggling to carry up both Ron and the girl. His hands had lost their webbing, and his gills were shrinking; whatever he had taken was wearing off, and the surface was still far from reach.

He's not going to make it, she realised, stomach dropping in horror, and that's when she heard it.

"You know what you have to do," Freya's voice whispered, calm and kind against her ears. "You can do it, Albany."

Albany, heart racing, glanced to her watch as it warmed against her wrist. She could hear Merlin's reminders in her mind as though he was there with her: have a precise idea of what you're aiming to do, and focus on it.

"You can do it, Albany."

She took in George's expression, helpless and blank, and set her jaw. She was a fucking Lionheart. She could do it.

Up. Bring us all up.

The watch burned like a fire against her skin, a golden light completely enveloping her as a rush of magic flooded her veins. Her smile was impossible to hold back as invisible forces propelled her and George upwards, the warmth of her magic relieving the pain in her muscles as all the built-up tension was released.

Her head broke the surface in mere seconds, and she'd never felt so relieved to feel the keen sting of clear winter air against her cheeks. The crowd in the stands were on their feet with ecstatic screaming, and Albany turned around as she heard splashing to see Harry and the other two had also made it to the surface with her aid. Ron and the girl were awake, both gasping for air with flushed red faces, and that was when Albany realised that her own hostage would have also awoken.

George's face was just as flushed as the others, though his smile shone so much brighter as utter joy lit up his features. Albany couldn't help the relieved laughter that escaped her as she threw her arms around him, happiness surging through every inch of her body to see him safe.

George held her with just as much compassion, hands firm around her body as he kicked his legs to keep them both afloat. His breath was nearly as laboured as hers where his head lay on her shoulder, though she could hear the grin in his wheezy laughter.

"I did it, Gred," Albany breathed, pride and joy swelling in her chest. "All thanks to you. I did it."

"Albany Bronwen, I'm absolutely mad for you, you know that?" George laughed, and Albany's heart was thudding so powerfully between her ribs she thought it might jump out. He grinned. "Probably about time I told you."

Albany's words had caught in her throat as she leaned back to take in the boy's expression; there was no joking in it, as ecstatic as his expression was. It was completely genuine.

"Yeah," she said, and if she choked up on her emotions, she would never admit it. "About time."