Harry Potter and the Champion of Darkness

Chapter 4: Bittersweet Sunshine and Bittersweet Companionship

Ron looked up at the clock in the Gryffindor Common Room, realizing that six hours had past since Harry, Hermione and Draco had left for their trip. He dried his eyes shamefully; why am I still crying?

He had been unable to eat that day and missed dinner. He sucked in air through trembling lips, and puffed out his cheeks with exhausted fatigue. There was something about letting out his emotions that physically wiped him out. For at least an hour after storming out of Dumbledore's office, he had promised himself that he would not cry. He fought the inner battle, putting his inner warrior at the front lines to fight off the tide of unrestrained grief. Ron had tried everything; he had tried to convince himself that he was betrayed and they were not worth shedding tears over as a result.

It did not work.

He tried to convince himself that Hermione obviously did not love him; if she loved him, how could it have been so easy to leave me behind? Did she really have a thing for Draco, or am I reading too much in between the lines?

And what about Harry? Did Harry truly have a thing for Hermione? Was that just something he concocted out of his imagination? Perhaps, it was, deduced Ron. Ever since Harry and Hermione had saved Sirius Black and Buckbeak, using the Time-Turner in their third year, Ron had expected that more than time had turned between his two best friends.

I think that a trust had formed that day between them that even I was not capable of being a part of.

In the end, his inner warrior had failed, and the tears ran down his face shamefully. They were worth shedding tears for; they were his best friends in the world.

His only friends.

Ron thought back to that small stretch of time, no longer than five days, when Harry had tried to hit Redetyor with the Killing Curse. Harry had, instead, killed a part of his spirit that had left him traumatized for nearly a week. While Hermione was with Sean, she paid Ron no mind, and Harry was too absorbed with himself to pay Ron any attention.

After a mere five days, Ron had broken down. He pleaded with Harry to let him help him. The thought of going back to the days where he had no one to love him and no one to care for him was simply unbearable.

And now, Ron thought, I don't think I have the strength to go for the rest of my life without Harry and Hermione as my friends.

The thought popped in their for a moment; he simply could not help it. As he analyzed all paths available, it was an option he could see as reasonable. I wouldn't have to live in a world without Harry and Hermione as his friends if I simply decided not to... he reasoned. I am supposed to be dead anyway.

As quickly as Ron thought of that solution, he dismissed it entirely. He was a Gryffindor and suicide is not the solution to any problem, no matter how big. Killing myself would be the Slytherin thing to do, mused Ron half-heartedly. The brave don't escape life like that... they live it as fully as they can.

No, instead, he needed to talk to someone, he decided. There was one person on the Hogwarts ground that would perhaps be able to help him. Of all the people Ron knew in his life, there was only one person that truly understood what he was going through, what it meant to be a simulacrum.

He needed to speak to Seth Redetyor.

* * * * * *

Earlier that afternoon, after stepping through the Floo gate and calling out "Sean Camaradi's House," Harry had no idea what he would be in for. The furthest he had ever Flooed was a few dozen miles, from the Weasley's Burrow to Knockturn Alley during his second year.

It was nothing like Flooing across the entire world.

He felt an immense rush of dizziness and felt completely lost as he tumbled about in the black of space. His guilt about Ron was forced out of his system by sheer limbo as he rolled through infinite blackness. As one can tell they are moving even with their eyes shut, Harry could feel wind ripping across his body; he was moving FAST. Draco and Hermione were nowhere in sight. Fireplaces had rushed past Harry like orange blurs at first, but now, there was nothing but a void of blackness.

And still, he tumbled on. After several minutes had past (or what seemed like minutes), Harry lost his sense of panic. The invigorating blackness had played itself out to be more of a listless path in which he simply allowed himself to flow along with.

And finally, after several minutes, it was over. The world exploded with bright lights all around him as he became aware that he was falling. Before he could take note of his surroundings, he crashed face first into something soft that smelled of detergent. Harry opened his eyes.

A white carpet.

Suddenly, he groaned in pain as he felt an immense pressure on his back and a second grunt. Someone had landed on top of him. It wasn't so bad, Harry thought... until he felt another thud and the pressure on his back doubled to a point where it became hard for him to breathe. Make that two people... thought Harry, gasping for air.

"Mudblood," muttered a drawling voice from right above the top of Harry's head. "I know you'd love to sandwich me with Potter, but kindly get your knee out of there!"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, Draco Malfoy..." snapped Hermione, apparently forgetting to miss Ron in lieu of their extremely strange predicament and rapid ride across half the world.

"I don't," replied Draco factually. "It just happens on its own."

"Guys..." croaked Harry, gasping for air. "Off... now..."

Harry felt the pressure ease off his back as Hermione stood up, followed by Draco. He calmly lifted his face from the carpet floor and took in their surroundings.

They were within a small but quaint looking living room, with a fluffy, white sofa and three cushioned chairs. There were four large windows, each open and allowing in a strong odor of salt. A fireplace calmly flickered from behind him, marking their entrance point. Harry was amazed to see how close a coffee table was from his head, and was relieved that he was not thrown that much further from the Floo Network.

Calmly, Harry stood up and realized that no one was around.

"Well, this is rather cozy," commented Hermione as she examined a few of the trinkets above the mantle of the fireplace.

Harry's attention was drawn to the coffee table he had nearly landed on, while Draco seemed to be only intent upon himself. He was trying in vain to fix his very messy hair.

Upon the top of the polished, low mahogany table, there were about six framed pictures. They did not move, following suite with the pictures he had grown up with all his pre-Hogwarts life.

One of the pictures seemed to be a family shot. It was taken recently, Harry noticed, for he spotted Sean kneeling in the front, with Alex Guardings holding up two fingers over his head from behind. They appeared as he remembered them.

Upon seeing Alex again, Harry could not help but tense with a bit of anger. Alex Guardings had been the wrong sort right from the start. Not even Malfoy had angered Harry to the point where he was threatening him before their first train ride to Hogwarts had ended, however Alex had achieved that level of rage within Harry. He seemed to be a perfect Slytherin, with cunning plans, physical strength and very little respect for anyone. Alex had even tried to kill Harry, but had won.

Now, however, Alex would not remember a thing about it. He was Memory Charmed, and that was the end of it.

Harry passed by a photo of what must have been in-laws and rested his eyes upon a single couple that were probably Sean's parents. His father was a round looking man with wavy black hair and chocolate brown eyes. To Harry, however, his mother seemed to be a perfect match for Lily Potter; slim, not too tall, and with a full head of straight, ginger hair and sparkling green eyes.

Finally, Harry paused over a photo that kept his attention for awhile. It was a simple picture of a young looking Sean, with his arm around a younger looking boy, resembling a first year at Hogwarts. He had a very distinctive look about him, one that nearly alarmed Harry.

His short, black hair hung over his lean, pale face. Brilliant, verdant green eyes sparkled brilliantly from the picture. This mysterious boy was definitely not tall, for he appeared smaller than Sean, and Harry knew that Sean's height was hardly impressive.

"I did not realize you were Sean's younger brother," said Draco, with a half-amused, half-indignant snort. Apparently, Draco had lowered his mirror for a second or two, to see what Harry was staring at.

Harry blinked. "I guess Cody really did look like me..."

"Who?" asked Hermione, as she looked away from a sparkling quartz crystal that had the words San Diego All-State Surfing Championship, 14 and under Runner-Up 1993: Sean Camaradi.

"Cody Camaradi," explained Harry. "Sean's younger brother... he died in a bus accident trying to save his friend."

Draco waved away Harry's comment. "Yeah, right, great... anyway, where is the house elf? I need my luggage moved to my bedroom."

"This is a Muggle house, Malfoy," snapped Hermione. "And you better be respectful to Sean's parents, or else..."

A simple stare from Draco was all he needed to put Hermione back on the defensive.

"Don't worry, Mudblood," muttered Draco. "I'm good with parents."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I bet."

The lapse that followed in the conversation lead to an awkward moment. Harry's mind finally was allowed to drift as he thought back on Ron, who had just broken off from him what seemed no later than ten minutes ago. Being this far away, Harry could no longer feel his connection with Ron... it was like he was no longer there.

Perhaps some aspects of the simulacrum relationship has distance limits, wondered Harry.

His contemplations were interrupted by a grinding and grating sound coming from out of one of the windows. Only now did Harry realize how hot it was in the room with the fireplace roaring at full strength.

The unlikely trio moved across the living room to stare out the window.

Outside, they were not permitted with much of a view. Upon the other side of a scorching-hot paved road, there appeared to be a one-sided street with a thick forest of palm trees, thick off the ground with both bushes and ferns. Harry realized, for the first time, he had never actually seen a palm tree and judging by Draco's vacant expression, he had not either.

The grinding sound grew louder, and eventually, three figures zoomed into view from down the street, each moving faster than seemed possible upon the ground, even sprinting full out.

"Wizards?" asked Draco, staring intently at the three figures as they grew in size from down the street.

Harry and Hermione both shook their heads.

"Roller-skates, I believe," explained Hermione. "I do recall they were popular in California, when I visited here over the summer."

The three figured glided over the smooth pavement and turned sharply into the driveway leading to their house. He could not help but marvel at what must have been a wicked sense of balance as the three figures zoomed out of sight and into the garage of the house. They were impossible to distinguish, for each of there knees were bent, and they wore helmets over their heads.

At once, Harry heard some commotion coming from the door next to the living room. Harry, Draco and Hermione all watched the door as it flew open a moment later.

Sean was the first figure to come though the door. While extremely short, he did resemble Ron's old self in many ways. While Ron used to have curly red hair, Sean's hair was straight and longer, falling about his brow. Sean's face was heavily plastered with freckles, and his eyes, much like Harry's were green, and also given to him by his mother. He was dressed similarly to Draco, though his sleeveless T-shirt was white and his blue shorts fell down below his knees.

Underneath his arm, he had a pair of roller-blades, with a helmet loosely hung from his fingertips. Upon seeing Harry, Hermione and Draco, he cracked into a smile and rushed over to them.

"Alright there, Sean," said Harry, with a smile just as bright as he stretched out his hand. Sean clasped it with a smile upon his face. He nodded to Harry and punched him playfully in the stomach.

Following Sean through the door was the towering form of Alex. In Harry's mind, Alex seemed so much smaller and less intimidating now, even though he clearly stood well over a head taller than Harry, and was considerably more buff.

And finally, behind him, followed a limber looking female with short blonde hair and a pink tank top.

"Are these friends of yours, Sean?" drawled Alex, staring at Harry for a moment. For a split second, Harry thought he saw a glint of recognition within his hazel orbs.

Sean turned back to Alex, his smile still very bright, and nodded.

After releasing Harry's hand, Sean moved over to hug Hermione, who hugged him back with a slight laugh.

"It's great to see you again, Sean," said Hermione softly.

Draco also seemed to be staring at Alex. Despite their similarities and basic rotten personalities, they had despised each other with a passion. During Alex's stay at Hogwarts as a Narhassa Wizard, he had been the Seeker of the Narhassa team, and had both refused to shake Draco's hand.

On top of that, he also cheated and controlled the bludgers, trying his best to smash Draco's face in.

Needless to say, Malfoy did not feel much love for him.

Sean looked over to Alex, and made a few complex gestures with his hands. Alex rolled his eyes with ennui and groaned.

"Fine, Sean," he said dully, his glance shifting from Harry and Draco. "I'll translate."

The short blonde-haired girl seemed to cling to Alex's side and did not offer much in the way of words. She was highly attractive to Harry in that "Jessica Rennings" sort of way, he realized.

Blond hair, blue eyes... nice body... and likely a rotten personality, he thought sourly

Nonetheless, it was to Harry's slight irritation that she was staring at Draco with unblinking eyes.

Sean broke off his hug with Hermione and smiled. He signed a few rapid signals toward Harry, and Alex's bored voice translated.

"He wants to know if you guys are hungry," stated Alex dryly.

Draco sneered at Alex, earning him a warning glare from Hermione. "Famished."

The fierceness of the retort was not lost upon Alex, as he rolled his eyes from Harry to Draco and glared at him long and hard. Again, Harry could see the recognition within Alex's eyes as he stared at him.

"Do I know you?" asked Alex with narrowed eyes. "You look familiar..."

Draco stared at Alex. "No, Guardings, you don't know me."

Sean looked to Harry, his eyes widening while Harry and Hermione both shot demanding glances at Draco.

Alex took a step forward. "How did you know my last name, punk?"

"Magic," came the snappy retort.

The word "magic" seemed to hit a massive discord within Alex, as he blinked his eyes, as if recovering from a daze.

"I know you..." said Alex softly and chillingly... his eyes goring into Draco's head. It was clear to Harry that the Memory Charm upon him was not very strong, to avoid permanent memory issues. It was obvious that his brain, subconsciously manifesting such powerful emotions toward Draco, was fighting off the effects, and may very well break free of them.

Harry and Hermione exchanged terrified glances. If Alex's memory charm broke loose, they'd have a massive brawl on their hands. Alex's forgotten hatred of Malfoy and Harry would ensue, and he'd likely attack both of them.

It seemed to be what Malfoy was itching for.

"What is your name?" said Alex, trailing off, ominously, as the shy blonde girl continued to stare out from behind his large frame.

"Draco Malfoy," replied Malfoy fearlessly, crossing his arms. It was as though he expected him to snap out of it.

Alex continued to meet Draco's eyes and suddenly twitched with recognition.

"Draco Malfoy... the Seeker..." he trailed off, causing Harry to groan softly.

And just like that, he suddenly shifted his eyes to Harry. "Well, you three hungry or not? Pamela and I were going to McDonalds... I suppose we can make room."

"Sure," replied Harry and Hermione hastily, making a quick move to Sean's side.

Draco smirked and relinquished his stare from Alex. "Yes, food would be just... Oof!" yelped Malfoy in mid sentence. Both Harry and Hermione had driven the heels of their shoes upon one of his feet as they walked past him.

"Alright," said Alex with a grunt. "Come on. My jeep is in the garage.

Harry cocked his head, staring at Alex. "You can drive as a fifteen year old in America?"

Alex smirked evilly at Harry, reminding him so much of the boy who was corrupted by Narhassa less than a month ago. "Sure... as long as you don't get caught. My dad's the captain of the police force around here. I ain't getting pulled over."

Why does that not surprise me, decided Harry as the six teenagers moved quickly into the garage. Why wouldn't the Draco Malfoy of California have a father that, though his job and connections, allow him to do anything he wanted.

Harry was half-tempted to ask Alex if his father's name was Lucius Guardings, but he decided to opt for a more tactful question, but no less spiteful.

"I feel safer already," said Harry dryly.

* * * * * *

The biting cold sent prickly sensations running down Ron's exposed forearms as he made his way through a slight snow flurry. The sky was pitch black, as an overcast cloud cover cloaked the moon and stars from Ron's sight. Harry and Hermione's betrayal had, temporary, been put to the back of his mind as he crunched through the iced over snow upon the ground, courtesy of one of the most severe winters Ron had seen during his stay at Hogwarts.

Finally, the ghostly silhouette of Hagrid's cabin appeared in the distance. He had to assume that Redetyor would be staying there, for he never saw Voldemort's simulacrum within the school. The only proof that the boy was still at the school was during their Care of Magical Creatures class, when he'd often help Hagrid with some of the more savage monsters. Dumbledore seemed to be astute in his appointment of Redetyor, for he seemed to be a natural with animals and beasts of all kind.

It was clear that Hagrid was doing his job well, training his first apprentice.

Ron made it the rest of the way to the cabin, though he had lost feeling in his lips and ears due to the driving wind. Snowflakes clasped firmly to his black bangs, like pearls on a string as he brushed off the top of his head and knocked upon the door.

"Yeah, hang on," called a fairly authoritive, but sly voice. No doubt it was Seth. Ron did as he was instructed, rubbing his frozen fingers upon his arms for warmth.

A few seconds later, Ron heard a second call. "It's open."

Ron pushed his thumb down upon the handle tongue and pushed the old, rickety door inward. At once, Ron felt a rush of beautiful, delicious heat hit into his face and wash over his body. Wasting no time, Ron entered the cabin.

To Ron's own chagrin, this was the first time since fourth year he had been inside Hagrid's cabin, though not much had changed. A large table remained positioned in the center of the cabin, with a large bed off to one of the corners. A second, smaller bed had been constructed upon the other side of the room, right under the window and next to the stove. The cast-iron cooking stove seemed to be fired up, though Ron had to bet it was to warm the cabin, for nothing seemed to be cooking within.

Seth Redetyor sat calmly at the table alone. The black-haired boy with his green eyes was the spitting image of Tom Marvolo Riddle, according to what Harry had said. Ron had felt a bit upset he did not get to see Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets, but after Harry's recount of the events, he was glad about this fact. In front of Seth, Ron could not help but notice a quill, lying flat upon the table. Seth held a large wand within his right hand, though his left arm was folded over his chest and clasping his right forearm in dismay.

"Wingerdam Levosa..." he tried again, swishing the wand angrily.

The feather did nothing.

With a sigh, Redetyor looked up at his guest for the first time, and suddenly rose to his feet. "Weasley... or Potter?"

Ron could feel a mixture of very strong emotions within his chest. Less than a month ago, Ron hated Redetyor with all his heart. He was considered the enemy and had planned out the deaths of Harry, Draco and even Lord Voldemort. Yet now, apparently, he was completely docile, for once all the pain was removed from his memories and Narhassa's influence released him, his sanity was restored.

I guess we'll find out with time...

"Weasley," said Ron, without too much emotion in his voice. "Practicing the Levitation Charm?"

Seth slowly glanced down to his feather. Despite no longer being the enemy, most of his mannerisms seemed well intact. His movements were languid, as if he had no cause to rush for anyone and his cocky mentality seemed well in place.

"Sort of," he replied with a brogue, effortless voice.

Ron drew his wand and looked down at the feather. "Don't swat at it; it is a simple swish and flick."

With a smooth, practiced motion, Ron maneuvered the wand over the feather, flicking his wrist once and coming around his motion with a circular swish.

"And it's Win-gar-dium Levi-osa...emphasis on the "osa"."

Ron could not help but experience a feeling of déjà vu as he thought back to Hermione in his first year; she had helped him with the Levitating Charm when he needed it.

Now, the thought of her simply made him scowl.

Seth glanced at Ron for a moment and nodded. He mimicked Ron's motion rather awkwardly, with no practiced grace.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The feather suddenly shot up to the roof and stuck to it with adhesive force, drawing a shrug from Seth and a smirk of amusement from Ron.

"Close enough," said Seth with a dismissive wave. He sat down at the table and gestured for Ron to do the same. "If you are looking for Hagrid, he's down in France with his fiancé."

Ron slumped down at the table and folded his hands coyly. He was never much good at this part, however, his total dismay allowed him to be a bit bolder than normal.

"I'm actually here to talk to you."

Seth cocked his head. "About what, pray tell?"

Ron sighed. About what indeed? What sort of answers was he hoping to get from Seth? He had no questions about his simulacrum bond, nor really anything that Seth would know more about than anyone else.

Seth seemed to pick up on Ron's hesitation.

"Tea?" he asked, filling in the gap.

"Please," said Ron with a nod.

Seth rose over to the cast iron stove and removed the kettle that was warming right above it. He produced two large mugs from Hagrid's cupboard and brought them over. After pouring Ron and himself a cup, he sat back down.

"I think I know why you are here," said Seth as he took a delicate sip of the steaming tea.

Ron nodded and took a sip. It was very awkward for him, sitting here, having tea with the former Destroyer. Yet, at the same time, he was warm and felt much better than he did up in the Gryffindor tower.

Perhaps it was just the feeling of being around someone who was interested in what he had to say.

"Maybe you know better than I do," said Ron half-heartedly, as he stared into his cup.

Seth dabbed a bit of cream into his mug and stirred it with a spoon. "I've prepared myself for either you or Potter coming down here, though I guess no amount of preparation can ready you to face the past."

This caught Ron a bit off guard.

"Huh?" he asked.

Seth shrugged, avoiding Ron's eyes. "You want to talk to me about what happened upon Ben Nevis, right?"

Not really, thought Ron, but having no better ideas, he decided that he might as well. It felt good to talk to someone right now, even if it was Seth Redetyor.

"Do you want to talk about Ben Nevis?" countered Ron.

Seth looked up at Ron and nodded. "Though, I fear I don't have much to say... the person upon Ben Nevis was me, but the reason and the temperance that is also a part of who I am, was missing."

Ron stared at him, as all the memories of Ben Nevis flooded back into his mind. He considered all the implications and the paths that had been followed... first by Slytherin, and then by Redetyor.

"You went up there to kill your followers, Seth."

Ron at once, regretted the words that came out of his mouth. Seth looked up to him for a moment, and then back down to his tea.

"Maybe," he said sullenly, looking down to the liquid in his cup. "Despite my bloodlust and thirst for power, though, I knew that I would only kill them as a last resort. I really wanted to gain power, but protect the people under me at the same time."

Seth stared up to Ron, meeting his eyes.

"I wanted power to those who'd stand by my side... I guess I did not want to be alone."

Ron wanted to say a snappy retort like 'But you STILL would have killed them if you needed to', but all that came out was a slurp as he sipped back on his cup of hot tea.

"I don't like to be alone, either," said Ron sourly.

Seth snorted, a bit of his old self-seeming to break through as he curled his lip with more disdain than he seemed to mean. "How are you ever alone? You have god knows how many brothers and friends who are willing to sacrifice everything to keep you around." At that, Seth managed a smirk. "Harry proved that with flying colors..." he added.

Ron sighed, unable to form a quick response to that.

"When you are raised by one who safeguards you as a possession and dies when you are eleven... and then you are left all but crippled in the hands of a family who only wants to use you for the connection between you and a Dark Lord, you find out just how lonely life can be."

The formerly redheaded boy rotated the mug in his hands in calm consideration. Finally, something intelligent seemed to pop on the tip of his tongue.

"I don't know much about stuff like that," said Ron softly. "But when your best friends leave you to spend Christmas alone, take your worst enemy instead of you, and your own family does not keep you in the loop... it is the same feeling, I think."

At first, Ron thought Seth was going to laugh and tell him to get the hell out. Why should he care about something so trivial compared to what he had to experience? Yet, when Seth remained silent, looking at Ron with neither an invasive stare, nor a dispassionate scowl, Ron became intrigued as to why.

"It must be hard," is all that Seth said, before taking a sip. "They took Malfoy instead of you?"

Ron sighed. "Yes."

Seth calmly sighed and drained his cup of tea. "I cannot say I know much about that."

This caused Ron to blink in confusion. "Know much about what? Malfoy?"

Seth shook his head. "No... about friends betraying you. I've never really had a friend."

Ron stopped to look at Seth again. Despite the short duration of their conversation, he no longer saw the Tom Marvolo Riddle look-alike as an evil being, or as a person who had nearly killed Harry and Draco (though Ron had to admit, he would not shed too many tears if that tragic event came to pass) a short three and a half weeks ago. He now seemed so alone and even vulnerable.

He had played the role of a crippled boy, weakened by Voldemort's death for the better part of his life.

He had played the role of a studious learner, spending the earlier part of his preteen and teenage life learning about magic and about the Dark Arts under Clegg Dumbledore, a dark arts wizard and grandson of Albus Dumbledore.

He had played the role of a villain, wanting revenge upon Voldemort and squashing anyone who stood in his way, Ron and his companions included.

Perhaps he just did not know the role he should play now.

At last, Ron spoke. "You ever play chess?"

Seth looked up from his cup.

"Yeah," he said, a bit taken off guard by the radical subject change. "My stepfather made sure I mastered the game, for he said it helps build concentration and strengthens ones mind."

For the first time since Harry's betrayal of him, Ron managed a half-smile. "Want to play?"

Seth also reciprocated his grin. "Are you any good?"

Ron shrugged, but maintained a sly grin. "I have been known to play a decent game every once in awhile. I have a board up in the Gryffindor Common Room."

"You would let me back in there, after what I did the last time I entered?" asked Seth, with a slightly dour, yet amused expression.

A heavy tension suddenly clouded over the table once again, as Ron remembered Neville Longbottom opening the Floo network, allowing Seth into the Common Room, and no doubt directly resulting in the destruction of most of the tower.

Ron stared at Seth for a long while. "If you even could destroy it again, would you want to?"

"I was joking," he said defensively, but a bit apologetically.

"Considering that Hermione, Harry and I, as well as a bunch of our friends almost died as a result of that," said Ron darkly, his anger clearly evident in his voice, "I don't find it funny."

Seth lowered his head, his cheeks blazing over scarlet with humility. "I'm sorry. I am really very sorry."

Ron stood up, not sure if he should accept that apology. In the end, however, he decided to neither shoot it away, nor give it acceptance.

"So, you want to play?" he said, breaking the tension.

Seth nodded, without speaking, also standing up. Without another word, the two unlikely companions made their way outside and back to the school.

* * * * * *

Glimpse into the Crystal Ball: Harry, Hermione and Draco visit the beach... and meet a few strange sorts. Meanwhile, Ron and Seth begin talking and playing chess. Could something else be blossoming between them? No... because I don't like Slash... (sorry girls, but you still have Draco in a bathing suit to drool over) but I assure you that their unsteady friendship is not specifically to waste pages.