Harry Potter and the Champion of Darkness

Chapter 6: Evil Has Come to Hogwarts

Harry awoke to a forceful tap upon the top of his head. His blinked his eyes and realized that it was daytime. It took him a moment to orientate himself. The stiffness in his arm was likely the result of sleeping with his arm around Hermione the entire night, and the strange feeling of lethargy was due to lack of sleep. The morning sun had barely begun to rise and the dawn gloom still hung over the yard as the early birds began their rapid chorus of chirps.

Next to him, standing with his arms crossed over his chest was Sean looking at him with a mixture of disapproval and confusion. Harry tried to rub his eyes, but he had fallen asleep with his glasses on. Pulling them off, he rid his eyes of the sleep sand and winced apologetically to Sean.

"Sorry..." managed Harry, though his fatigue. "We are surfing today... I know... you don't have to drag me."

Sean eyes flickered with mild amusement, and he pulled one side of his face into a smirk.

Harry lifted his arm off of Hermione and slowly stood, so as not to disturb her. Sean's mood lightened almost immediately as he half-walked, half-pulled a still very sleepy Harry into his house.

"Sean... er... don't I need a bathing suit for surfing?"

Harry was still dressed in his blue jeans and his white t-shirt. This was not necessarily uncleanly, however, as it seemed Dumbledore had placed a Cleaning charm upon the clothing as well. Though, Harry realized, it was going to be difficult to swim with jeans on.

Sean gave Harry a knowing look and flipped Harry a pair of blue swim trunks, after grabbing them off the top of the washing machine in the bathroom as they passed. He was already wearing red trunks and sandals upon his feet, geared up and ready to go.

"Right," said Harry with a smile. "Thanks."

* * * * * *

"You have got to be kidding me," said Harry, his slack jaw practically touching his toes as he strode out onto the beach after kicking off his shoes and throwing his shirt into a pile in the sand. Under his arm, he held a canary golden surfboard, given to him by Sean before they walked the ten short minutes to the beach. "This is low-tide?"

Twelve-foot waves crashed onto the beach and rushed up with blood lusted fury, swarming over the small rocks and divots in the sand. After rushing halfway up the beach, the waves pulled back with terrible might, ripping half the beach back with it, leaving only a very steep drop off.

Sean smirked and nodded, removing his sleeveless t-shirt and flipping off his sandals. He made a few quick gestures with his hands, mixing both sign language and 'lay man's signing' together, to give Harry the correct message.

This is nothing, Harry guessed.

Harry mocked Sean slightly, waving his hand flat to the ground. "Nothing? Are you stark barmy?"

Sean put one of his hands to his hips, pinched his fingers together and made like he was sipping a cup of tea, mouthing the words 'stark barmy'.

At that, Harry could not help but laugh.

"Alright, I suppose it is time to give this a go," stated Harry, with a nervous tone as he removed his glasses and rested them atop of his shirt.

The beach was relatively empty, though several people floated in the water, atop boards of their own, despite the sun barely having risen over the trees on the other side of the roaring sea.

Sean hoisted up his own surfboard under his arm and nodded reassuringly to Harry. Trepidation crept slowly up his spine like caterpillars, only to morph into butterflies within his stomach. His breath came to him shallowly, girded by his own excitement and exhilaration at the thought of trying something new and very dangerous.

It was time to tackle the Hungarian Horntail once again.

* * * * * *

"EVIL HAS COME TO HOGWARTS! EVIL HAS COME TO HOGWARTS! EVIL HAS COME TO HOGWARTS!"

The sheering, loud voice screamed through Ron's head as his body jolted from what was a peaceful slumber. Pain coursed through his head as he gripped his ears and scrapped his golden glasses from the nearby bed stand.

As the room came into focus, a dark robed figure leapt up and sped toward the door. Ron opened his mouth to yelp in terror but, quickly he realized who it was, and remembered who was spending the night on Seamus' bed.

"We need to get to the Headmaster's office!" shouted Seth over the screaming, oscillating voice of the alarm. "He may need our help."

Ron threw on his robe quickly and grabbed his wand. Wasting no time, he nodded to Seth. He could not help but feel particularly brave right now as he buttoned his collar and raced out after the Tom Riddle look-alike. They sped down the stairs toward the Gryffindor common room, and pushed aside the painting.

"Do be careful!" cried the Fat Lady from her painting. She was curled up underneath her desk, in nervousness.

"We will," said Ron, not sure who he was trying to convince, as they continued to hasten down the steps. Both boys agilely leapt over the trick steps, their wands in their hands.

Hogwarts had taken on a new form, Ron noticed as they descended down the stairs of the tower. What were dimly lit passageways at night were now illuminated bright red, as Hogwarts was put on full alert. Despite evil having been in the school before, Ron had never seen this sort of alarm go off within the magical place; it chilled him deeply. Either this was a new addition, or something on this level had never happened before.

Ron and Seth raced down the passageway, and flew down another staircase, leading down to the main floor. The voice and the lighting, the feeling of being alone, and the tangible air before them were practically stifling. While he knew Seth was at this side, Seth would not be much help against anything they might encounter, as his magic ability lacked much to be desired.

And, suddenly, the voice faded away leaving only a ghostly quiet about the air. The red illuminated hallways suddenly turned pitch back as Ron and Seth were plunged into darkness so thick that only their breaths could be heard over the fading echoes in the hallway.

"Lumos," said Ron softly, as a light blossomed from the tip of his wand, casting eerie shadows all about the hallway.

Seth repeated the simple spell. Despite his ineptitude at simplistic magic, he was able to get the spell right as light also emanated from the tip of his wand

Nothing moved. Ron had never noticed it before, but Hogwarts always had this electricity about it, a sort of never ending magical current that always buzzed in the back of his mind. Now, however, it was as if Hogwarts itself were dead. Not a single bit of energy flowed through the air as Ron and Seth, having stopped running as the lights went out, moved at a slow prowl.

It was Seth that spoke softly. "It's Voldemort..."

Ron's wand suddenly began to shake as his hand grew unsteady. He took in a violent breath of air, trying to calm himself.

"Where?" he rasped, as softly as possible.

Seth shook his head, in a whisper. "I don't know, but he is close... I can feel him."

Ron swallowed a lump in his throat, and continued forward, entering the Main Hall of Hogwarts, aiming his wand forward with trepidation.

Seth followed him, creeping close to his heels.

The icy train set was at rest alongside of the wall, having been turned off for the night. The winter blue decorations cast strange reflections all around the hall, turning them from ornaments of cheer to harbingers of doom.

"How close?" asked Ron, in a whisper that more closely resembled a whimper.

The dark-haired boy froze for a moment, as if in consideration. It was clear that he was focusing upon his bond with Lord Voldemort.

"He's fleeing... I think. He seems more distant than he did a moment ago, but he is still close. Within the grounds..."

Ron did not realize that he was holding his breath. He gasped for air, and chided himself for making so much noise.

"Come on," said Seth, "Let us make haste to the Headmaster's Office."

* * * * * *

Harry braced himself as one of the waves, twice as big as him, slammed his drifting form head on. Gripping his surfboard like his life depended upon it, he felt his stomach lurch upward as he was submerged underwater for no more than a second or two.

Sean had made certain that Harry's board was attached to his left foot by rope and velcro. It had taken him awhile to explain why it was a smart idea to be bound to something while in the water, and while Harry was skeptical at first, now he was more than thankful that this board of his would never be more than five feet away from him.

Pulling up over the top of the wave, Harry blinked the salt water from his eyes. His vision was blurry without his glasses, however, he could still make out Sean, no more then ten feet next to him, keeping an eye upon him.

Sean's sign language seemed to serve him well now, for Harry was certain that, had Sean been speaking, he would not have been able to hear him over the roar of the waves and the annoying rolling drone of the water currently lodged in Harry's ear.

Pointing out further, Sean continued to kick and paddle, his board underneath him. Harry picked up on his meaning and continued out further as two more waves enveloped him. With balance developed from days of Quiddich practice, he kept upon the top of his board and shot right to the surface each time.

"Isn't this far enough?" yelled Harry over the waves.

Sean shook his head, but did not explain. There was likely a complex reason that Sean would not be able to communicate with their limited exchanges, but Harry began to feel all the more powerless as they moved on. Out here, without his wand, the sea was his master, filled with magic that Harry could not even dream of controlling.

Out here, Harry was the Muggle and Sean was the wizard.

Looking around, Harry could make out strange color blurs further out to sea that could only be people on surfboards. He did not understand the logic behind putting yourself at the mercy of the ocean, so far away from the solace of the shore, yet, he decided that Sean knew more about this then he did.

At long last, the waves were no longer breaking over his head, but rocking him softly as they tumbled beneath him, their white caps appearing a few dozen feet closer to the shore. Here, Sean stopped paddling and moved closer to Harry, pointing at him and using a few more symbols that Alex had helped him learn yesterday. It was amazing how quick Harry was beginning to pick up on Sean's language.

You first. Remember what I showed you.

Harry nodded. Sean had given him a few pointers on the way over: (it had taken a bit of acting and a game of Charades before Harry got his meaning) don't try to stand up on the board, push up with your hands and spring to your feet, keep your eyes open, and look at a fixed point on the shore to summon his balance.

A few waves passed beneath Harry and Sean, lifting them up and rolling further onto the shore. It was not long, however, before Sean pointed out to sea, as if instinctively knowing what wave would be Harry's.

Upon seeing the monster wave that was to break right before them, Harry could feel his face pale over. Calling this wave 'large' would be like calling Malfoy a 'cheeky fellow'... a woeful distortion of the titanic truth.

Remember, thought Harry, I have faced a dragon... I have faced a basilisk, I have faced the most powerful wizard in history several times... I have faced a fallen angel as well as thirty psychopathic, lightning flinging wizards...

How easy all these events seemed, now that he was put up against this sixteen foot wall of tumbling water, raging his way with white capped fury. Yet, Harry would keep his eyes open, and not let this wave beat him. He did not defeat all of those challenges in the past by keeping his eyes sealed.

He took a deep breath.

Sean slide back a few feet in the water, being absorbed by the wave before it came thundering down all around Harry, buffeting him and lifting him like a mere twig it was prepared to slap. His stomach lurched to his feet as he shot up into the air, propelled by the force of water all around him. Yet, he did not shut his eyes. The white fury of the water finally uncovered him, as he realized with amazement that he was near the top of the breaking wave. It was now or never.

Harry pushed up with his hands, mimicking Sean's lesson on the way over, and with no small amount of dexterity, slammed his feet home onto the board. At once, Harry felt completely helpless as he sped forward at blinding speed, the wind whipping across his face furiously. He felt the board sliding to the left, and, on instinct, followed it with his body, sliding across the wave in that direction.

Harry forgot that he was in the middle of an unfamiliar ocean, upon a very non-magical piece of plastic, sixteen feet in the air. Instead, he was on his Firebolt, speeding with the air currents, throwing his weight back and forth to keep his balance upon the broom. There was no difference between this and flying.

A spray of water washed over him as he flew across the stomach of the wave, no longer feeling helpless, but in total control.

The board lurched back to the right and Harry willingly complied, as the roaring water filled his ears and a smile beamed upon his face. A black blur upon the beach was his focus... his snitch for this game... as he tumbled and sped closer and closer to his final destination.

It was no wonder why Sean loved this so much. To a boy, or any Muggle, this was the closest they'd ever come to flying and Quiddich, and Harry had to admit, this was not exactly far off from it. Everything that Harry loved about flying was here... the excitement of the wind whipping through his hair, the thrill if being at the mercy of acting forces, yet defying them openly, and the challenge of being the best at what he was doing.

Without warning, his dreamy reverie came to a crashing halt. His board suddenly kicked up, lurching at a horrible angle as Harry allowed himself to get too lax. He struggled to comply with it, however, in doing so, he flipped over backwards plunging himself headfirst into the mass of white water behind him. He felt himself driven under by the sheer force of wave, as he collided solidly with the sandy bottom and spun head over heels. The air was knocked out of his lungs by the impact, as he was churned about like an ingredient in Snape's mixing cauldron.

There was nothing but blue in every direction he looked, and without air in his lungs, panic took over. Harry clawed furiously at the water around him and kicked frantically, but a force was restraining his left leg in place.

He felt stuck and the pain in his lungs was beginning to grow at an excruciating rate.

* * * * * *

Ron and Seth made their way down the dark corridor, their glowing wands doing little to dispel the tangible fear all around them. There was something alive in this air that was not the friendly, inviting aura that Ron identified as Hogwarts magic.

He felt he was being watched.

Seth crept behind him, his wand hand shaking, yet his face set in a determined scowl. While Ron was scared out of his mind, his hand held his weapon firmly as he regulated his breathing. He was a Gryffindor, and it was now time to be brave.

Easier said then done, he realized as he ran his free hand across his forehead to free his forehead of perspiration. His vision was clouded as his own nervous sweat fogged up his glasses and tinged his lips with the salty taste of fear.

A cold breath licked the back of his neck, causing Ron to spin about. Seth, apparently, had felt it too and had followed suit, aiming his wand into the infinite darkness nearby.

Nothing stirred in the murky depths of the hallway behind them. But, if it was his imagination, why did Seth feel it too?

Ron trembled inadvertently.

"Keep moving," opined Seth succinctly, though his confidence was belied by his trembling voice.

Ron nodded and continued up a short flight of stairs that would bring them one turn closer to Dumbledore's office. A hollow echo blew through the empty corridors as Ron's breathing echoed off the walls around them. Never before had Hogwarts seemed so cold, dark and uninviting, like a predator waiting to snatch its pray into an unforgiving jaw.

And then, he heard it... the sounds of footsteps growing louder from around a corner. A shiver ran up through Ron's spine, rattling the back of his neck while the smell of doom seemed as pungent as mildew to his nose. He grabbed Seth forcefully and leapt against the wall.

"Nox!" hissed Ron silently, as he wand extinguished. Seth was smart enough to reciprocate.

Just then, three figures came into view around the corner, wands outstretched and light blossoming from the tips, expressions of fear plastered upon their faces. Judging by their school uniforms, they were all Ravenclaws, and two of them were females.

"Lumos," stated Ron, in a calm voice as his light suddenly sprung into focus.

The three Ravenclaws nearly leapt out of their skins with terror as Seth activated his wand and closed in swiftly.

"Sorry, sorry," soothed Ron with an embarrassed tone. Once he got close enough, he recognized the three students by name. Cho Chang was unmistakable, for he had seen Harry ogling over her enough times to make him want to smack him. The other two were fifth years that Ron had taken Astronomy with for five years.

"Harry Potter?" asked Mandy Brocklehurst, the shiver being taken from her voice. "Oh, thank Merlin."

The boy of the Ravenclaw group, Terry Boot, was hiding behind Cho and only now peering out from behind her shoulder. He appeared one step shy of urinating his robe. Well, he wasn't sorted into Gryffindor for a reason, thought Ron, and despite the situation, a lapse of amusement twitched his mouth.

Ron huffed a bit and lifted the sweaty bangs of his hair, revealing no scar.

"Oh," said Mandy, in a more despairing voice. "Ron..."

Fighting back a mild degree of annoyance, Ron simply huffed again. "Look, we are going to the Headmaster's Office, he might need our help."

"We just came from the Headmaster's office," answered Cho in a nervous whisper. "He wasn't there."

Seth frowned. "Well, I didn't think that he would be. It would seem most odd that he would remain there during such a crisis."

"Do you know what's going on?" peeped Terry from behind the sixth year seeker.

"Yeah," replied Seth as calmly as he could. "Voldemort has come to Hogwarts."

"Ah," said Terry, extremely faintly, before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed upon the ground in a faint.

Ravenclaws... muttered Ron.

* * * * * *

Harry could feel himself being yanked out to sea forcefully by the rushing undertow as he panicked and fought feebly against the raging current. He left leg was still incapacitated, for it was bound to the board floating several feet above him.

And then, Harry managed to throw some order back into his mind as he realized that the board must be still on the surface. Reaching out frantically, he found that the velcro rope was still very much bound to his leg. He grabbed up at the rope and pulled with all his might, trying to free himself from the undertow. After a moment of effort, he was rewarded as his head broke the surface of the deep blue water.

Coughing and spluttering, Harry grabbed hold of his board and allowed himself to be lifted by the next few waves. Several people upon boards were making their way over to Harry. Sean was paddling toward him frantically, using the waves to carry him closer to his friend.

"Damn bro," asked a long-haired man a few years older than Harry. "That was one gnarly wipeout... you still breathing?"

"Er... yeah," murmured Harry sheepishly as be spit out some more salt water from his mouth, as wave after wave continued to lift him and the growing population around him.

"That was a monster!" exclaimed a boy that must have been Harry's younger by a year. "I wish I'd caught it first..."

Sean finally joined them, looking utterly pale. He furiously began signing to Harry.

I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I did not know it would be so big...

Between his broad gesticulations and the actual language he did know, Harry understood.

"It's ok," said Harry, forcing a tired smile upon his face. "But, I think I'm going to sit out for awhile."

Sean nodded his eyes glazed over with shame.

Out of the crowd of surfers that had come to Harry's aid, he spotted two in particular that caught his attention. They were not staring at him with concern or with amusement. Instead, they were whispering to each other and glancing at Harry, with estranged looks upon their faces.

The smaller of the two, who floated lazily upon his board, was an exotically white haired boy with a freckled complexion. With his finger, he ran a zigzag down his forehead, and nodded sidelong to Harry, looking at his companion.

Harry frowned, wondering how they could possibly know who he was. However, without too much delay, Sean was at his side and both boys rode smaller waves onto the shore and walked over to their towels.

Upon seeing Sean looking at the ground with continued anger, Harry shifted his eyes over to him.

"Forget about it," said Harry. "I'm fine, ok?"

Sean flopped down onto his towel, glaring up at the sky.

"Hey," said Harry good-naturedly. "If I could survive under a freezing cold lake for an hour, I think I can handle a lukewarm ocean for a few seconds."

Finally, Sean sat up, and the anger in his eyes slowly faded away only to be replaced by confusion. Harry thought it strange that Sean was not looking at him, but slightly beyond him.

And then, a shadow fell over him, and Harry wondered why. He turned around, intent on seeing what was going on.

The two boys who had shown that they were not oblivious to the scar upon his head were now standing over him looking curious indeed.

"Harry Potter?" asked the larger of the two boys. His spiky blonde hair was still brown with the damp water, but he appeared to be rather strong and... very tall.

Harry bit his lip, and stared up at the two boys from his towel. "Er... yes," said Harry, never being one to hide the truth.

The smaller boy hummed in consideration. Unlike before, now, he wore sunglasses over his eyes concealing himself from view. Harry guessed he was older than him by a year or two. "Yeah right, and I'm Gandolf and this is Merlin, nice to meet you."

Harry blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

"You've got the accent down too," chuckled the taller boy haughtily as he fluttered his eyes properly and impersonated a simply dreadful English accent, "cah-re for o-h cup o-h tea-h?"

The smaller boy smiled shortly and stared down at Harry from behind his sunglasses. Sean stared up at him with a growing look of contempt.

Harry rolled his eyes and laid back down into his towel. It was an annoying aspect of who he was, worldwide fame for something he could not ever remember and he simply did not want to be reminded of it today. Not now... not here... not ever.

"You are right, I'm not Harry Potter," muttered Harry, crossing his arms behind his head and trying to relax. "Happy?"

The younger boy snorted. "That's what I thought. Come on Sandy, let's go to McDonalds."

Yet, the older boy did not seem quite so convinced. Within his eyes, Harry could see a bit of Draco Malfoy... that part of him that did not like such an easy victory. He could tell right away that Sandy, as he was named, was not going to stop quite yet.

"I heard that the real Harry Potter is an orphan that attends Hogwarts in England... and has had the worst dark lord in modern history after him since he was a sperm. What the heck is his name? Moldevort or something..."

"Voldemort," Harry corrected unconsciously. He had to admit, it was a nice change from the norm. No one present shuttered at the mention of his name or did not insist that he call him "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" or some other foolishness.

"Yeah, that guy," continued Sandy. "Didn't Potters parents get slaughtered or something?"

Harry felt his face puff up with anger. Before he could check his tongue, he glared up at this boy coldly. He would not tolerate some total stranger slandering or even mentioning his parents in such a way.

"Shut up," he said coldly.

The smaller boy at Sandy's side pulled back on his arm. "He already said he ain't Harry Potter... let's just go get some food."

But Sandy apparently wasn't going to be happy until he got the proof right in his hands.

"Yes, and I heard about that... unfortunate incident in the European Wizard Tournament... didn't he get his teammate killed or something last year?"

That was all Harry could take. This boy had a talent for pushing the right buttons, and now Harry was on his feet, his wand drawn out from beneath his towel and pointed dangerously at Sandy.

"Turn around," he hissed, his emerald green eyes flaring with hostility, "and walk away."

Sandy, however, drew a wand of his own from behind his back... having been holding it the whole time.

"So... you are Harry Potter," he smirked, and the younger boy at his side also drew his wand, now fully back into the confrontation.

Harry stared for a long moment into the eyes of the larger, older boy. "What do you want?"

"I want you," replied the boy, without much delay.

Harry raised an upper lip with a certain amount of distain. "Thanks, but you aren't my type."

"You know what I mean," countered the boy with a flinch. "I want to duel you."

This put Harry on his heels. Only two times in his life had he ever been challenged to a duel: first year when Draco had proudly professed his noble challenge only to try and get him expelled by ratting him out for being up at night...

... the second time was by the Dark Lord himself, while surrounded by dozens of Deatheaters.

Harry did not think very high of dueling, and did not take challenges lightly.

"What have I done to you?" riposted Harry coldly, "to warrant a duel?"

Sandy shrugged and a thin smirk crossed his face. "Nothing. I just want to see how good you really are." He nodded to Sean, who was at Harry's side, his fists balled up in anger of his own. "Shorty over here can be your second... Janus will be mine," he indicated the silver-haired boy by his side.

"He's not a wizard," replied Harry.

The now-named shorter boy pushed up his shady rims, revealing startling lavender eyes. "Of course I am. So I happen to be half-veela, I'm still a bloody wizard."

Harry and Sean both exchanged confused looks. "Actually," continued Harry, "I meant Sean over here... he isn't a wizard."

"Oh, please," muttered Sandy as he ruffled the top of his spiked hair. "Someone as famous as Harry Potter cannot find a second?"

"I did not say that," retorted Harry, with growing impatience. "Look, I came here to enjoy a vacation, not duel strangers for no reason."

"Well," continued Sandy, "how about we make a reason?"

Harry instinctively put the word Stupefy on the tip of his tongue when the boy moved suddenly... but instead of attacking him, he reached into a bag by his side and withdrew a fifty-dollar bill.

"You win, you get this... I win..." he looked down at Sean's surfboard. "I get that... a Waveracer 2000... very nice."

"That," countered Harry, "is not mine to give away!"

"Fine," added Janus, pulling out a twenty from a belt pouch on his hip. "Make it seventy."

"I will not..." began Harry before he felt Sean nudge him by his side. Sean smirked and nodded. He quickly signed to him and mouthed the word "Malfoy". Harry caught his meaning.

You and Malfoy won't loose.

Harry looked back, realizing how much truth was to this statement. Draco and him had braved the core of Ben Nevis together. They had fought countless Narhassa Wizards off and had defeated an ancient, fallen angel. Two beach bums with wands could hardly hold a candle to that.

"You are on," replied Harry, keeping the amusement out of his voice. "My second is not here, but I will get him."

Sandy nodded, looking eager and affected. "Sundown, here... tonight. Bring your second and the board."

Janus also smirked, flicking up his sunglasses again. "Yeah. I've never beaten a celebrity before. I wonder what it will be like."

"You will never find out, veela-boy," said Harry, allowing a small amount of arrogance to break through as he sat back down upon his towel.

Janus' cheeks tinged pink, but he held him an insult on Harry. "Come on," he said, pulling at Sandy's arm. With a huff, both boys took their leave, picking up their surfboards and dragging them off the beach.

Sean smirked and made a few quick gestures... one including his sandal swinging like a pendulum in the air, in the direction of the two boys rears as they walked away.

Catching onto his meaning, Harry laughed.

* * * * * *

The five teenagers, three Ravenclaws, one Gryffindor and a simulocrum of Dark Lord Voldemort, made their way down back into the main hall of Hogwarts, approaching the trophy room, where they could hear some commotion.

Ron was in the lead, no longer feeling a great fear of the dark. The bolstering power of four other terrified people (one who was so scared he could barely keep conscious) had a sobering effect upon the Gryffindor as he boldly led them through the dark. Fear could not overcome the feeling of delight within his chest. For the first time in so long, he felt important... he felt needed, and he was second to no one right now.

Cho Chang and Mandy Brocklehurst followed behind him, their glowing wands helping to guide the path. Of all the rest of the folks, Cho seemed the most composed, her bright and sharp features set into a mask of concentration. Mandy, while fairing better than Terry was, was holding her wand in a shaking hand.

Terry, who was barely able to walk, shuddered with nervous energy behind the girls, each step of his echoing off the walls as the meaning of stealth was lost upon the boy.

And finally, Seth Redetyor took up the rear, keeping an eye out behind them. Ron glanced back to see him looking stony and having mastered his fear rather well. Of all the people here, he was the most helpless, yet if anything, he did not show it. He looked like the boy Ron had hated a month ago, with a grin that told anyone who saw it that he was thinking ahead and already knew your next move.

Ron rounded the corner into the trophy room and found a very concerned looking Professor McGonagall and a very grave looking Professor Dumbledore sifting through the remains of the room. Professor Flitwick was also there, going over the walls and floor with his wand. It was flaring a strange blue/white color, as little sparks would occasional fall to the ground, or strike the walls.

The once proud trophy room was in complete shambles, with merit awards, platters and display cases all thrown about, shattered and destroyed.

"Weasley," said Professor McGonagall, "there is nothing to see here. Go to the Great Hall now."

Before Ron could nod, Professor Dumbledore looked up from a broken trophy he held in his hands. "Mr. Redetyor, if you please, could you stay?"

Seth nodded and moved forward. "Of course, Albus. If it is all the same though, could Weasley stay as well?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded his approval. "Very well, in fact... I would like to speak to Mr. Weasley in addition."

The Head of House Gryffindor cast a wayward look to the three Ravenclaws. "Miss Chang, please take your housemates to the Great Hall. Professor Snape is guarding it, and the rest of the student body within. You will be safe there."

"Yes, Professor," answered Cho modestly, as she led a nervous Mandy, who helped Cho drag an all but petrified Terry out of the room.

"You-Know-Who?" asked Dumbledore with a tired, resigned tone of voice once the Ravenclaws had left the room.

Seth simply nodded.

"Indeed..." said Dumbledore, scratching his fuzzy white beard with a sigh. "Well, we can be thankful his target was not a student." His eyes shifted all throughout the room, peering at the dark, destroyed room. "But... what could he have desired in this room that was worth the terrible risk of coming back here?"

"I do not know, Albus," squeaked Professor Flitwick as he continued combing the room with his flaring wand. "I shall take inventory of what should be here, and what is missing."

Dumbledore nodded his approval. "Thank you."

"Professor," said Ron, in a firm voice. "What... was the alarm..."

"Oh," said the Headmaster, his twinkle reappearing into his eyes. "A new addition after the Narhassa students... anyone entering Hogwarts with amazing power and evil intent sets off the alarm. It was a costly ward, but it was well worth it."

The Headmaster sighed and withdrew his wand. "Repario."

At once, all of the trophies, awards, platters and cups sprung off the ground, their pieces flying back into them and sealing solid with amazing precision. Then, with a simple wave of his wand, all of them flew with archer's accuracy back upon the shelves landing in rapid succession up and down the racks. With a final flick of his magical focus, the glass upon the floor gathered itself into the air, flickering like faerie fire in the low burning torches, and reformed into the great solid sheets they once were. Without so much as a nod, the glass soared back into the display case with a firm click.

The room was spotless once again.

"I shall get right on the inventory, with Filch's help," said Professor Flitwick energetically as he rushed out of the room.

The tension seemed completely dispelled as Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster examined the rest of the room. Seth, instead, stared upon at a golden shield the size of a plate locked firmly within the case. Ron looked over at him curiously and joined his side.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley

Medal of Magical Merit for Services Rendered - 1992

Ron felt a pang of nostalgia as he remembered sitting across from Harry, second year, when they were each awarded two-hundred points for saving Ginny's life, and defeating the basilisk. Normally, whenever he thought back on that joyous moment, he felt a warm feeling wash over his body. Harry and him had saved the day... well, mostly Harry, but he was there... Ron was definitely there. Yet, as he stared at the golden shield within the case, he felt nothing but anger and sorrow, as his thoughts dwelled on Harry, the Boy Who Betrayed His Best Friend.

"Albus..." asked Seth in a calm, calculating voice. "I recall that Tom Riddle won one of these?"

The Headmaster scratched his chin. "Why, yes, of course he did."

Seth scratched his chin. "Well, I only ask... because it appears to be missing."

* * * * * *

Glimpse into the Crystal Ball: England vs. America, event: Wizard's Dueling. Will Harry and Draco be able to best these two new mysterious foes... who just seem all too eager to duel the Boy Who Lived? More on the point, will Harry be able to talk Draco into dueling, now that he has stumbled upon a new object of obsession?

Ron has some very bad dreams, and as strange things continue to happen at Hogwarts over Christmas and in the following days, could something more evil be at work than simply the most power Dark Lord in modern history? What did the Dark Lord want with his old Merit Medal?

Stay tuned.