Harry Potter and the Wizards of Narhassa

Chapter 13: Evil Comes in Many Forms

The trip to Professor Lupin's office was a blur to Harry, who had been pouring over about a dozen possible reasons Professor McGonagall was on her way to fetch Harry at such an early hour in the morning. Before he even knew it, the older woman dressed in an elaborate green robe, looked down to Harry.

"Professor Lupin wishes to speak to you alone," she said crisply. "I do not know what this is about, but it is serious, Mr. Potter." Her grave face finally showed a hint of compassion. "I shall see you at the game today."

A wave of relief washed over Harry's body like a liberating tied of an ocean of problems. He could not help but exhale violently; he had not realized it, but he had been holding his breath for nearly a minute.

"Yes, Professor. The game..." said Harry, fumbling over his tongue like it were a trip wire.

McGonagall nodded and turned about slowly, walking down the hallway with a methodical swish of her robes. With an uneasy hand, Harry knocked upon the door to Lupin's office.

"Come in, Harry," called the familiar voice of his Defense against the Dark Arts teacher.

Harry twisted the knob and walked into the room, pushing the door wide...

... and his jaw profoundly dropped.

From behind Lupin's desk, the shabby looking, sandy haired man sat back, rocking in his cushioned chair. His office was as Harry remembered it, two years ago. Several dark arts objects were visible, scattered about with little organization, along with many beautifully carved pieces. Upon one wall off the room, shelves of books greeted Harry's eyes with some of the more unique titles Harry had ever seen.

And in front of Lupin's desk, sat Sirius Black.

He was looking as refined as Harry had ever seen him, with his wild black hair finally tamed into a ponytail that ran down his back. With exception to Bill Weasley's red hair, Sirius could have passed for his twin brother. He was not wearing a robe, but a thick black leather trench coat. A dragon fang earring drooped down from his left ear, but that was not the most distinctive thing about him. Upon his feet, he wore bright red leather boots that seemed to give off a small amount of light. Harry's first reaction was that his red boots clashed so violently with his black coat that Sirius must have heeded a fashion tip from Dobby the house elf.

"Alright there, Harry," said Sirius, with a stout salute. "Oh, here..." With a deft flick of his wrist, he produced a small package from the inside pocket of his trench coat, covered in colorful blue wrapping paper. It was thin enough to be clenched by one hand, but was about a foot long. "Belated Happy Birthday."

"Sirius?" exclaimed Harry, still resembling a human flycatcher with his jaw nearly dropped to his toes.

"Who did you expect?" asked the darkly dressed man. "Britney Spears?"

Lupin smirked from behind his desk. "Well, technically, it is not Sirius anymore... right?"

Sirius returned Lupin's smirk. He looked back to Harry, with an artificially intense look.

"I am Slash... Slash Padfoot... hit-wizard for hire." Sirius then smiled, with a laugh escaping his lips. "Or, that's at least what people need to think."

Harry continued to blink in utter confusion while Lupin sat back in his chair, poorly concealing a laugh. Sirius pulled out the second chair on the other side of Lupin's desk.

"Sit down, Harry. I've not seen you for the better part of a year. Let's talk."

Harry managed to find his legs, and sat down in the chair next to Sirius. "It's... see to great you, Sirius," bumbled Harry, still in a rather alternate state of mind. It was barely past six in the morning, and the feelings of confusion, relief and joy were feebilizing his brain at the moment.

Sirius laughed with amusement, sitting back in his chair.

"So, what are you doing here?" asked Harry, after some order came to his churning brain.

"Three things," said Sirius with a grin, as he turned over the package in his hands. "Since I am about five months late for your birthday, I figured a present by owl wouldn't cut it."

He extended the present to Harry, who accepted, his eyes never leaving Sirius.

"Two," said Sirius evenly, producing a crinkled up paper from one of his pockets on the front of his jacket. "I got your rather distressing letter concerning Narhassa."

"Yeah," said Harry sullenly. "I was wondering about that."

Lupin nodded, remaining respectfully silent.

"And, finally, three... to check up and see how you are doing," finished Sirius.

Harry finally came to perfect order of his mind. What had started out being a potentially terrifying day had turned out to be the start of one of his most memorable and happy days of his life.

"I'm doing absolutely great, Sirius," said Harry. "What's with the whole... Slash Padfoot thing?"

Lupin cackled from across the desk. "Oh, you will love this Harry. Tell him."

Sirius scratched the top of his head reluctantly. "Well, you are right about some things and wrong about others," said Sirius. "The first part of my task was to 'rally the old Order of the Phoenix' as you so keenly mentioned in the letter. I finished that inside of a week. Upon hearing the news of Voldemort's resurrection, each and every member of the Order of the Phoenix was very willing to give their support to Dumbledore again."

Harry nodded and gripped the tops of his knees energetically.

"The second part of my task was to use my underworld notoriety as a multi-murderer to win the trust of the Dark Wizard Underground, an organization of murderers, thieves, outlaws and terrorists as well as Voldemort junkies and supporters. Not a fun crowd... the dementors have better personalities, I must say. Also, they are really lousy Quidditch players, my dear Lord. Anyway, Slash Padfoot was the name that Dumbledore and I agreed would be my alias for the time being."

Lupin nodded slowly, trying to hide his amusement. "Yes... they play Russian Quidditch in the underground. The beaters do not have bats, they have sledgehammers... and Bludgers don't exist, do they?"

Sirius tilted his head from side to side, as if weighing Lupin's words. "Eh, more or less."

"Sounds like you've had a rough few months," said Harry sadly. "Remind me to never play Quidditch should I go to Russia."

"On the contrary," said Sirius brightly. "It's been fairly good fun. Beats living as a dog and stealing candy in Hogsmeade to survive. It is also amazing some of the things available underground, and the prices are simply rock bottom. Where do you think I got your present from?"

Harry turned over the package Sirius had handed to him. He looked up to his godfather, and the slick-haired man nodded. Lupin also leaned forward energetically.

With a firm tug, Harry freed the very long and extremely malleable present from its wrappings and unfolded it. It was a strange sort of shimmering belt, bright red... the exact color of Sirius' boots.

"Err, thanks!" said Harry, trying his best to seem extremely appreciative. I cannot seriously wear this ANYWHERE! He thought at the same time.

Sirius, apparently having a knack for detecting the true emotions behind words, simply smirked. "It is a Red Dragon hide belt. Not only does it make you look rather fashionable within the... saucy part of town, but it protects you from fire." Sirius pointed down to his bright red boots. "Useful in the line of work I'm pretending to be in."

Now, Harry's attention was a bit peaked as he stroked the belt with his hand.

"It's warm," noticed Harry as he ran his fingers across the leathery hide belt. Indeed, it felt like he was touching the side of a mug of hot chocolate.

"Aye," agreed Sirius. "They are also extremely in demand up in Iceland and Greenland, as well as in Canada for their warmth as much as the fire protection deal."

Before Harry could say anything else, Sirius looked over to Lupin.

"I am surprised you did not come to me directly, Harry," said Lupin calmly, looking at Harry. "You do remember that House Narhassa is... well, my house. Any concerns you had could have been addressed to me."

In truth, Harry had completely forgotten that Dumbledore had placed Lupin in charge of House Narhassa.

"My concern isn't really House Narhassa. It is the sixth year who was sorted into Slytherin."

Sirius smirked slightly. "The Destroyer."

"Pardon?" asked Harry, cocking his head.

It was now Sirius' turn to look at Harry with shock. "Are you kidding me? Hermione did not figure that one out? Take the name "Seth Redetyor" and play around with the letters, and you get "The Destroyer."

Lupin looked at Sirius with a sarcastic expression. "What are you playing at, Slash Wizardkiller? I figured that one out. You had no idea."

Sirius looked back to Lupin, his brown eyes flickering with amusement. "Don't me make smack you upside the head, Moony."

Harry, indeed, fooled around with the letters inside his head and realized it made sense. If Sirius had his undivided attention before, it was nothing compared to the level of focus he had now.

"Do you have any more information about Narhassa for me?" asked Harry, on the edge of his seat.

Sirius laughed. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you gave yourself a quest to uncover every mystery in the world."

Harry smirked at the irony in that statement. Sometimes, he felt that was not far from the truth.

"The underground isn't really the best place to find out stuff like that," confessed Sirius. "But, you may be interested to know that most of Voldemort's supporters are just as clueless as we are when it comes to the topic of the Narhassa Muggles. Whoever "The Destroyer" is, he is definitely a naughty boy up to no good... and many are looking to stop him, dark wizards, Deatheaters... and fifth year Gryffindors."

Harry clicked his tongue. "How has he stayed at large then, with that sort seeking his head? I mean... I had him helpless before me with a simple Stunning charm."

Sirius sighed and sat back. "What he lacks in raw power, he makes up for with brains. Not a single dark wizard or Deatheater would dare brave Albus Dumbledore's wrath by stepping foot into this school with hostile intention. He picked the right place to plan, he did."

"Oh," murmured Harry, sighing. "Professor Lupin, can't you do something?"

Lupin shrugged helplessly. "Harry, we have no proof he is doing anything wrong. I am sure Dumbledore would be interested to know about "The Destroyer"... but I'm sure Remus J. Lupin spells something too if you screw around with it enough. It's not proof that he is about to do something evil, it's a teasing taunt that he is."

Harry sighed and dejectedly looked at the red belt in his hands. He wanted to tell them about Draco's story... but was afraid that they would tell Dumbledore. If that were to happen, Draco would be killed, and while Harry wouldn't shed too many tears, Harry did not want another death on his conscience.

Cedric Diggory was enough...

Sirius folded his arms across the front of his black leather jacket and broke the silence. "While I don't have much information about Seth Redetyor... I do have some information from the world of Voldemort that you might be interested in."

Lupin also crossed his arms. "Oh really? When were you planning on telling me this, Slash?"

Sirius looked to Lupin with a smirk. "I wasn't, but since you are such a noisy bastard, it looks like I have no choice, now do I?"

"Mother always said to stick with your talents," said Lupin, bowing his head and saluting Sirius.

"What is it already?" asked Harry, his excitement taking the reigns behind his brain.

"Well, Voldemort apparently punished Lucius Malfoy at a recent Deatheater meeting, a month or two after..." Sirius trailed off slightly, looking to Harry. "... after, the tournament. He also said something about one of his Death Eaters abandoning him."

Harry scratched his chin. "Snape, right?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, Snape and the other one, Karkaroff, are yesterday's news apparently. One of my associates in the underground, a real piece of work Death Eater named Marcos Durand, said that it was someone else." Sirius leaned forward slyly with a grin. "Though, he has no idea that I know his Death Eater status."

"Well, why was Malfoy punished?" asked Lupin airily.

Sirius looked from Harry to Lupin. "Malfoy apparently allowed this Deatheater into his home, before his betrayal was known, and was allowed to make off with one of Voldemort's most prized relics that Malfoy apparently was safeguarding."

Harry's eyes suddenly widened with realization. He remembered his conversation with Hermione a week ago, and his most recent recantation of Draco's story to Ron, just yesterday. "Oh, let me guess... a Sorolith."

Sirius cocked his head. "Have you actually been paying attention in Divination Class, or are you just psychic?"

"Neither," said Harry quickly. "Long story. Anyway, who was this Death Eater who betrayed Voldemort?"

Lupin also leaned forward, his interest perked.

"His name was Garret Spencer, a dealer in ancient antiquities."

Harry indeed remembered the name Spencer from that horrible night, a few months ago. Of the thirty or so Deatheater's present, he keenly remembered most of their names... seeing as how he had replayed every moment of that night in his dreams countless times.

Harry explained to Sirius and Lupin what the Sorolith was capable of as he had heard from Hermione.

"I think it is safe to say that he did not steal the Sorolith for resale value," said Lupin with a sarcastic grunt.

Sirius, Lupin and Harry talked a bit longer, tossing off ideas and commenting on each other's suggestions. After nearly an hour of conversation and getting nowhere fast, Harry stood up and politely excused himself. He would be meeting his friends for breakfast soon, and the Quidditch game would be starting shortly after.

"Listen, Harry," said Sirius, as he stood up also. "I won't have a chance to write you much this year. I am already due back to the underground, and any longer would put my position in jeopardy. I want you to tell Lupin anything that is troubling you. He knows more about this Dark Arts stuff than I do, hence the reason why he's teaching you."

"Sure, Sirius," said Harry with a nod.

And then an awkward moment passed between them. Should he offer Sirius a handshake, or should he hug him? In truth, only four people had hugged Harry in his entire life: Ron, Hermione, Hagrid and Jessica. It seemed like such an immense show of affection that he was not sure if it was appropriate. Sirius also seemed to be sensing the awkward moment in between them. After another second or two, Sirius extended his hand forward.

"Take care of yourself, Harry. Alright?"

Harry took Sirius hand and shook it firmly. "You too, Sirius. Be safe."

Sirius let go of Harry's hand, and, without another word, turned back to Lupin. "I'll be leaving, Moony. Don't go and get a life on me."

Lupin laughed and simply sat back in his chair. Harry had never seen Lupin laugh or be as expressive with his emotions as he was now. It was almost like Lupin and Sirius were kids that were Harry's age. They could have been just as easily talking about Quidditch or Exploding Snap.

"Don't let the fire burn your arse on the way out, Slash," returned Lupin.

Sirius smirked as he walked over to the fireplace within Lupin's office, no doubt preparing to Floo Powder his way out. Harry knew as well as any that Apparating did not work in Hogwarts, though Floo Powder chimneys could be used for short periods at a time, so long as a proper Professor authorized it.

Without another word, Sirius threw the powder into the fire, stepped within, and vanished.

That must have been how it was with Sirius and Lupin, realized Harry. No serious good-byes, no 'be safes'... just a joke and a laugh, and the thought they would see each other again, thought Harry.

Lupin looked back to Harry, his face returning to its usual sallow expression, as if he knew consciously that his time to joke had come to an end.

"Best get some breakfast, Harry," said Lupin with an emotionless nod. "I will see you at the game."

Harry nodded and left Lupin's office without another word.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

After a tense breakfast, where Harry had to glare more than once at Ron to keep him in line, the four teenagers rose and left the school for the Quidditch fields, within the flock of people moving.

At the start of the meal, Harry had decided to keep the nature of his meeting with Sirius and Lupin confidential until after the Quidditch game today. He simply did not feel like talking about it, and wanted to enjoy the up and coming game.

The day was clear, but rather cold. It was the start of October, and already, the weather seemed to be hinting at a rather severe winter. Each student was bundled tightly, wearing scarves to support their house colors.

"I wonder who is going to win," said Harry with a laugh, trying desperately to break the ice.

"I think Slytherin will have this one," said Ron coldly, glaring at Sean. "I have to think Muggles have a disadvantage playing this game... cause, well, they are Muggles... OW!"

Hermione grit her teeth as she removed the heel of her shoe from Ron's toe. Sean glared back at Ron, apparently growing weary of taking his comments with salt.

"I think Narhassa will win," said Sean, with equal chill to his voice. "Because those in Slytherin are pompous ass wizards who simply underestimate us too much to take us seriously... oh wait, those guys aren't JUST in Slytherin, are they?"

"Us?" retorted Ron, "I didn't realize you see yourself as a Narhassa boy. Perhaps you are evil like them, too."

Sean bit his lip and narrowed his eyes. "You can antagonize me all you want. It won't make you the better person, asshole."

"Why you little..." sneered Ron, as he made a move for his wand.

Harry was quick to grab Ron by his wrist while Hermione made a similar move on Sean.

"Will you stop it, Ron?" growled Harry, his face no more than inches from Ron's.

"Sean," coaxed Hermione, who had grabbed Sean's wrist when he attempted to lift it, no doubt to use some magic. "Please don't."

Sean backed down quickly, lowering his hands, while Ron fought Harry's grip for a moment. Finally, he desisted, and Harry released him.

"Shake his hand, now!" barked Harry angrily.

Ron glared back at Harry, but sighed. Sean looked to Hermione pleadingly, but she seemed equally firm.

"Just do it," she said.

Ron looked down at the smaller boy angrily, and extended his hand. Sean took his hand and shook it once firmly, and, as if both boys were touching hot iron, withdrew just as quickly. Their angry expressions still remained, however.

And, with tensions as sharp as a knife, they entered the elevated Quidditch arena. As if by magic, (and most likely a cause of it as well) the Quidditch Arena had been expanded to include another section for all those of House Narhassa. Harry did not know how it came to be, but there were now five equally large sections, able to seat all the houses evenly.

The four teenagers moved close to the railing overlying the field several dozen feet below, within the Gryffindor section. Harry gripped the cold iron tightly and balanced himself against the whipping wind that was racing around the arena.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," began Lee Jordan, the seventh-year Gryffindor announcer. "Welcome to the first Quidditch Match of the new term! Today will prove to be difficult, with the racing wind from the southwest. The snitch will be particularly invisible today. It will truly be a test for the new Narhassa team to have their first game against a battle-hardened, frosty, and cheating Slytherin team!"

"MR. JORDAN!" shouted Professor McGonagall's voice over the crowd.

"Ah, it feels right good to hear you say that Professor! I missed that for the better part of two years!" said Jordan boisterously, drawing a laugh from most of the Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. Even Professor McGonagall had to hide a chuckle, putting a tender hand to her lips.

Harry chuckled as well, but the laugh choked out of his mouth when suddenly, he felt two arms upon his sides, wrapping around his waist.

"Must you always do that?" asked Harry good-naturedly, as he turned around.

Jessica smiled brightly from underneath her wizard's cap. She was wearing a Hufflepuff yellow and silver scarf, as well as her million-dollar smile.

"I must," she said sweetly, as she released him and stood by his side. "Hey Sean," she said sweetly.

Sean said nothing and lowered his head, drawing suspicious looks from Ron and Hermione.

"So, who do you think will win?" asked Jessica, snuggling up close to Harry.

Harry shrugged. "Heard the Narhassa team has been practicing up a storm," said the emerald eyed boy. "Perhaps they know their stuff."

Sean and Hermione began a quiet conversation, while Ron gripped the rod iron balcony, staring down upon the field in silence. It almost made Harry wince, for he did not want his best friend to feel like a fifth wheel.

"Maybe," said Jessica. "Though Slytherin has a good Seeker, no?"

Harry smirked and looked down to Jessica. "Right... he flies about as well as a penguin."

Jessica laughed and playfully punched him in the side. "Yeah, especially with his injuries, huh?"

This caused Harry's smirk to fade from his face as he looked down upon the field. "Yeah, his injuries..." he murmured. "So, Ron, are you ready for your try-outs this afternoon?"

Ron glared down at the field. "I'm not going to try out."

This caused Hermione and Sean to cease their conversation and look at Ron. This also caused Harry to do a double take. "What?"

"You've been waiting your whole life to play Keeper for the Gryffindor team," said Hermione, sounding very genuine.

Ron continued staring hard at the field, and did not say anything.

"What's wrong with Ron?" whispered Jessica to Harry.

Harry shrugged in defeat. Any answer he was about to give was interrupted by the sounds of trumpeting which signified the start of the Quidditch game.

"And now, the Slytherin team takes the field! Stealing the Gryffindor idea for an all female Chaser front, we have seventh year Masterson, fifth year Zambini, and first year Waitskin, who is the youngest female player to ever start as a Chaser on the Slytherin team in fifty years!"

The Slytherins let up a rowdy cheer, while the other houses begrudgingly gave staggered applause at best.

"And Captain Malfoy, showing a serious preference for age over beauty, has selected his personal cronies to be his Beaters! Let's give a warm welcome to 5^th years Crabbe and Goyle, fresh out of their stay to the hospital wing!"

No one, not even Slytherin House, gave much cheer.

"And now, for Slytherin's second-year Keeper, let's hear it for Malcolm Baddock!

With the exception of the Slytherins, the arena seemed lulled by an amazing calm.

"And finally, let's hear it for Slytherin Seeker and Team Captain, Draco Malfoy!"

The boos chorused around the arena like wildfire as the Slytherin team marched out on the field, lead by Draco and flanked as always by Crabbe and Goyle. Harry's first impression was that he wondered if Crabbe and Goyle would be able to get off the ground. They were clad, as always, in their green robes and looking exceptionally grim.

"Golly, listen to the crowd. They all sure do love this Slytherin team, let me tell you. Malfoy, in his amazing career as Slytherin Seeker, statistically has actually caught more Bludgers than Snitches! Congratulations Malfoy, on a job well blotched!"

"That... will... do...!" Professor McGonagall shouted in between fits of giggling. Harry knew that Professor McGonagall, while always a strict disciplinarian during class and out of class, allowed her role as Head of Gryffindor House to slip somewhat during a Quidditch match, and have a little fun.

Draco fired a look that could kill a medusa toward Lee Jordan, who had everyone around him holding there gut, barely able to keep their seats.

Harry grabbed onto Ron's arm to keep himself steady while he laughed himself hoarse. Ron was doing no better as Hermione held him by the back of his shirt, for fear that he would fall out of the balcony and down to the field below.

"And now, I am proud to introduce the first ever House Narhassa Quidditch Team! Starting as Chasers, we have, 5^th year Franklin, 4^th year Thompson, and 3^rd year Malacardi!"

Not bothering to walk, the three Narhassa Chasers zoomed out of the other locker room, doing laps above an impatient looking Slytherin team. The Narhassa team had selected platinum white for team colors, and zoomed around like silvery blurs on top of their brooms.

"And starting as beaters we have two 3^rd years who seem to know their business, give it up 3^rd year Trahvis and 3^rd year Du'Witt!"

Two more platinum white blurs joined the lapping Chasers, including the pale looking boy named Bradley that Harry recognized from the train.

"He's a Beater?" asked Ron, with an arched brow. "Didn't he seem a bit too feminine to be a beater? I graduated from Yaahback, with a 4.0 GPA and am now hoping to study at the Hogwarts University..."

Harry chuckled. "Looks can be deceiving, I guess."

"As Keeper, we have none other than 1^st year Timothy McDermott, the youngest person of any age to play as Keeper since... well, since Former Gryffindor Captain Oliver Wood; but before him, there wasn't a first year Keeper for any House since 1933!"

At the mention of Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor's cheering overcame that of even House Narhassa's.

"And introducing the Captain of this young Narhassa team, give a warm welcome to 5^th year Seeker Alex Guardings!"

Jessica broke into loud cheers, while Ron, Harry and Hermione exchanged sour expressions. Sean's eyes also widened.

"He never told me he was practicing Quidditch..."

Alex, not following suite with his more energetic companions, strolled out onto the field purposely, in his silver uniform with his broom thrown over his shoulders arrogantly.

It appeared that House Narhassa was the favored House, as every house that was not Slytherin let up a loud cheer. Alex strolled in front of the serious looking Slytherin team by himself and examined them like he were examining flies. Malfoy glared at him with a look of sheer hatred, while Crabbe and Goyle looked on the verge of breaking their broomsticks over his head.

Alex spun about, flapping his arms in the air and inciting the crowd. It seemed that everyone save Harry, Ron and Hermione were affected, as the cheering built in crescendo, with nearly every house hooting and hollering.

Finally, the other Narhassa players fell in next to Alex, dismounting their brooms and staring down the Slytherin team, while Madam Hooch seemed to take her time walking out onto the field with the Quaffle, the Bludgers and the snitch.

"Blimey," whispered Ron to Harry, apparently forgetting to sulk. "Seems like this is going to be one tense game. You ever seen Malfoy looking like that?"

Harry saw Malfoy and Alex, eyes locked, in pure hatred.

"Yeah," said Harry. "It's how Malfoy always looks. He does not bother to hate with moderation."

Madam Hooch took up position between the two teams and spoke up in her magically enhanced voice. "I want a clean game. Unnecessary roughness and physical contact will result in penalties. Captains, shake hands."

Draco and Alex approached each other slowly. Harry was not sure what was more likely: Draco to shake Alex's hand, or perform the Killing curse upon him right then and there.

Slowly, Draco extended his hand, and despite Harry's spot in the stands, he could see Draco's eyes sparkling with sheer malice. Alex extended his hand as well. Draco attempted to grab it, to make the shake end quickly.

Alex withdrew his hand and rubbed the back of his head arrogantly, a wry grin upon his face.

A chorus of "Ooooooohs!" omitted from all around the arena and, despite Harry being quite removed from the scene, could feel Malfoy's outrage.

"Captains, SHAKE HANDS!" shouted Madam Hooch, her voices ringing across the field. "Mr. Guardings, you will shake hands with Mr. Malfoy, or your team will take a penalty shot."

Alex snorted and laughed, his own voice somehow becoming enhanced like Madam Hooch's. "Fine. Like it matters."

And the game began without a kick-off from the ground, as the keepers casually took up their positions and the Chasers ringed around the Narhassa goal, while Draco and Alex both flew into the air. The Bludgers and the Snitch were released and the Quaffle was handed to Blaise Zambini.

"Oh, and how about this for pre-game Drama... instead of a midfield punch off, Slytherin Chaser Zambini starts off with a penalty shot on the little Timothy McDermott, all because Captain Guardings refused to shake hands with Captain Malfoy!" blared Lee Jordan. "Hostilities between the two captains must run really high... this will be a tense game! And Slytherin... MISSES!"

Harry's rubbed his eyes slightly, watching the blurs on the other side of the field.

"Was it just me," began Sean, whispering to Hermione, yet still loud enough to be heard by Harry, "or did she throw that... really slowly?"

Hermione shrugged uncaringly. She had already sat down in the first row behind Harry, with Sean at her side. It was obviously she did not enjoy Quidditch, especially when Gryffindor wasn't playing.

"Yeah," noticed Jessica, apparently also hearing Sean. "Seemed like too easy of a save, didn't it?"

"Narhassa's possession, Thompson to Malacardi to Franklin to Mala... SCORE! Narhassa takes the lead 10 to 0. Did you see how fast that Quaffle flew! Baddock was way behind that!"

Harry blinked, barely able to register that goal.

"Geez! They are good!" said Sean in amazement.

Ron glared as one of the Slytherin girls took the Quaffle. "Or they are cheating..."

"And Zambini works the ball up the middle, passes it off to Masterson, to Waitskin... and, Oh my dear god, watch out for those Bludgers!"

Harry outstretched his palm to block the morning sun, and watched with disbelief as two Bludgers came at the younger girl, who barely had time to roll under both of them. It was almost like they had coordinated an attack upon her.

And they did not relent. Bradley and the other Beater zoomed into alignment, and drove another two punishing shots at the young Chaser, who dropped the Quaffle in her attempt to escape the savage Beaters.

"Happy Christmas... look what I just found... Malaca... Frank... SCORE! Narhassa up by another 10! If I didn't know it, I would say they were the Bulgaria International team!"

"Slytherin possession... Masterson working up the... Ahhh! There come the Bludgers... OH, THAT'S GOTTA HURT! Narhassa Po... SCORE!"

"Come on ref!" shouted Ron angrily. "They are cheating!"

Harry looked to Ron. "But how?"

"Those Bludgers have not even made a single attempt at any Narhassa player!"

Indeed it was true. Harry continued to watch with a mixed emotions as the Slytherin Chasers could not even make it to half court before both Bludgers dove at the one holding the Quaffle simultaneously, either smacking them in the chest, or otherwise making the fumble the Quaffle.

"The Slytherin Chasers cannot get anywhere without those third year Beaters on the Narhassa team simply stuffing them like canned tuna! Crabbe and Goyle need to start adding more to this game, or this will be the greatest upset in recent... Narhassa Scores!... recent Slytherin History."

After only five minutes of playing, House Narhassa was in the lead sixty to zero.

"And once again, Zambini tries to take the Quaffle out and... heads up! Oooh... that's not pretty!"

This time, the Bludger had caught her square in the face, sending her toppling off her broom, falling nearly fifty feet, and landing with a thud on the ground.

"Get out the Medi-wizards, because that Slytherin sidewinder just got defanged!" commented Jordan in a pained voice. "Oh boy, now that the Slytherin's are down to two Chasers, this game will all but lie in the hands of Captain Draco Malfoy. He must catch the Snitch before Narhassa scores seven more... NARHASSA SCORES! ... six more goals if Slytherin is to win."

Draco raced about the top of the arena, with Alex in short tow behind them.

"And could it be...?" began Jordan. "Yes, the Snitch!"

Harry's Seeker instincts pointed him in the right direction. By the Narhassa goal post, he saw the glint of gold against the morning sun. He was not the only one, as Draco dove forward, urging his Nimbus 2001 to great speeds.

"And... wait a minute!" exclaimed Lee Jordan. "The Bludgers desist their chase of Waitskin, and speed right for Seeker Malfoy!"

Draco whirled to the left, just in time to avoid both Bludgers. Harry was reminded of second year, when Dobby's Bludger was constantly trying to decapitate Harry without fail, only it was now Draco's neck on the line, and he had to worry about both of them. Both Bludgers performed perfect U-Turns, and sped for Malfoy a second time.

Harry's eyes shifted over to see Alex, floating on his broom about thirty feet away from Malfoy... not bothering to do much Seeking as his position seemed to recommend. Instead, he was watching Draco with a focused look and a smirk upon his face.

"What sort of fowl play is this!" shouted Lee Jordan. "Come on ref! The Bludgers are going haywire... and I certainly wonder why it's only against Slytherin!"

Madam Hooch did indeed blow the whistle, apparently seeing enough.

Both Bludgers immediately returned to normal motion, as Alex came about slyly, and sped down to the ground in order to meet with his team. Harry grit his teeth with anger.

Alex is controlling the Bludgers!

Ron was yelling many clever swear words, (which was totally bewildering, since he was ACTUALLY defending Slytherin) while Sean and Hermione were speaking in low tones. The two Bludgers had been brought down by Madam Hooch, who had her wand forth and was stirring them using magic.

"It appears Madam Hooch will be replacing the Bludgers. This will take a few minutes," said Lee Jordan. "Right now, we have a very unbalanced game with Narhassa leading seventy to zero... but who can blame Slytherin seeing as how the Bludgers have yet to even make a pass at a Narhassa player."

Several more voices than just Slytherin House alone would allow were chanting "Cheaters" quite loudly at this point, as even Fred and George Weasley were beginning to incite most of the Gryffindors to take up the chant as well, with a significant effect.

"Harry," said Ron suddenly and strangely, desisting his string of profanity. "Look... Malfoy"

Harry turned his focus from Alex to Malfoy, who had just taken off into the air. He was looking directly at Harry and waving his hands in his direction.

"Harry," said Jessica softly. "Is he waving at you?"

Upon seeing Harry watching him, Malfoy began to point toward the Narhassa house seats demandingly.

"Apparently so," said Harry in a strange awe. Sean and Hermione also joined Harry by his side, watching Malfoy's strange antics.

"What do you suppose he is on about?" asked Hermione, putting the palm of her hand out in front of her to shield her eyes as she looked to where Malfoy was pointing.

Harry toward the ranks of Narhassa a few hundred feet across the field. Also putting his palm up to keep the sun out of his face, he tried to make out what Malfoy was pointing out.

"Seamus," said Ron turning around quickly and jogging up the stadium isle to where the Irish boy and his friend Dean were setting. Without asking, he snatched Seamus' binoculars from him. "Need to borrow these.."

Seamus glared at him for a moment, but if Ron showed any indication of caring, it was well hidden under his mask of carelessness.

Ron slapped the binoculars to his face, and began to comb in the direction that Malfoy was still pointing.

"Harry!" said Ron emphatically. "Redetyor is over there! Third row!" Ron removed the binoculars and handed them over to Harry.

Harry, wasting no time, pushed them to his eyes. Indeed, Seth Redeytor was within the ranks of Narhassa, extending his hand to a second year girl. She took his hand... no... it wasn't his hand. There was a ball within his hand and she was touching it. After five seconds, Redeytor pulled the ball away, and moved onto the next student.

Without a word, Harry slapped the binoculars into Sean's hands and looked at Ron, with an expression of determined angst.

"Redeytor is handing everyone an object for them to hold for a few seconds at a time," he relayed to Ron, Hermione, Jessica and Sean. Sean leveled the binoculars to his eyes and looked as well.

"Blimey!" exclaimed Hermione brashly. "Do you think that's what I think it is?"

Ron's eyes also widened. "Nuh-uh!"

"I'd bet our House Cup..." said Harry darkly. "That's the Sorolith!"

Without wasting any more time, Harry held out his hand as he had done nearly a year ago to the day. He thought only of his Firebolt, tucked safely inside of his dorm.

"Accio Firebolt!" called out Harry loudly.

"What are you doing, Harry?" asked Jessica, in a panic.

Harry turned to her. "He's trying to steal the souls of the people in House Narhassa!"

Jessica's eyes widened with terror. "How?"

"The Sorolith absorbs a small bit of the soul of anyone who touches it," explained Ron energetically. "Once Redetyor has that small piece of their soul, he can make them give up the rest of them, somehow! That is how Narhassa came to be!"

Hermione nodded. "Each of the Order of Narhassa lost their soul. We don't know how, but the Sorolith had something to do with it."

"Get to him quick, Harry!" exclaimed Ron, slapping Harry's back. "The rest of us will run around and give you a hand as soon as we can!"

"Wait!" exclaimed Jessica. "I'm going with you, Harry!"

No sooner had she spoken than Harry's Firebolt came shooting across the top of the Quidditch field and came to a rest within the raven-haired boy's hand.

"Come on then!" exclaimed Harry, having no time to fight Jessica on the issue. He hopped upon his broom at the same time as she did, while Ron, Hermione and Sean began to race around the stands, taking the slow route.

Jessica grabbed his waist as Harry shot his broom forward, drawing stunned and amused looks from nearly everyone in the arena.

"Well, look at that!" blared Lee Jordan over the crowd. "Gryffindor Seeker Harry Potter is speeding toward Captain Draco Malfoy on his own Firebolt! Perhaps Captain Malfoy fancies a private lesson before the game resumes. With Malfoy's record, it couldn't hurt!"

A smirk of humor crossed Malfoy's sly, cold face as Harry approached.

"We make a good team!" shouted Malfoy over the laughing crowd. "I set them up... and you make a blatant fool out of yourself."

"Just keep a look out," hissed Harry as he passed. "This could get weird."

"Of course, Scar head. I've got your back," said Malfoy with a perhaps sarcastic tone. Harry was not sure.

Many Narhassa students rose with confusion and scattered to the isles, as if afraid Harry was going to hit them. As the heads of countless students moved from the seats to the isles, Seth Redetyor became very visible through the thin heads now remaining in the stands. A young second year boy was by his side, touching the stone he held calmly in his hands.

"What are we going to do, Harry?" asked Jessica, a bit nervously in his ear.

Harry felt her tighten her grip on his waist.

"I haven't thought that far ahead!" returned Harry.

As if only now becoming aware of Harry's not-so subtle charge across the field, he rolled his dim gray eyes to him, and curled his upper lip in amusement.

Harry brought about his broom to a whooshing stop, hovering over the same row as the Seth Redeytor. All the students, including the young lad holding Redeytor's stone, scrambled out of the way as Harry hopped off his broom. His feet hit the ground no more than ten feet from Seth, with no one left between them.

"What is the cause of this scene, Potter?" asked Seth in an alarmed voice. "Can you not see I am making merry with my fellow Muggles?"

Where Seth's voice seemed alarmed and panicky, his expression was completely cold and calculating. It was clear to Harry that he was feigning his shock, as if he had foreseen every second of this Quidditch game playing out the way it had.

"Give the Sorolith here, Redeytor!" demanded Harry, drawing his wand.

"God bless you?" asked Seth in an over exaggerated, finicky voice. His eyes gleamed maliciously. "A what?"

Harry aimed his wand straight at Seth, while Jessica looked at Harry nervously. "We are beyond playing dumb... Destroyer."

Seth smirked and took a few steps toward Harry, closing within five feet of him. "Oh, so you've figured out the acronym as well? Yes... I used to have fun with that, scaring those who picked on me in Elementary school." He folded his hands behind his back slyly and leaned forward, hissing quietly to Harry. "And the seas boiled and the sky fell... all the Earth shook in fear. The Destroyer hath cometh."

Those watching the exchange, all Narhassa Muggles, did not seem to react... though Harry doubt they could here him.

"Freaky, is it not?" added Seth, leaned back, as Harry gripped his wand tightly. He quickly glanced to his side, a knowing, mirthless sneer crossing his face. Harry also looked, and saw that nearly all the Professors were now responding to this strange action, and were only a few seconds away from arriving on the scene from their private stands.

"So, you want this?" asked Seth, holding the small ball in front of him, as if begging Harry to take it. "Take it... it does not matter."

Jessica shook by Harry's side, as he held his wand forward. It was a trick, was Harry's first thought. It has to be.

"Jessica," says Harry. "Take it from him..." he looked up to Redetyor. "You dare try anything to her, I will end your life."

Seth smirked and with a flick of his wrist, tossed the Sorolith over to Jessica, who caught it. Again, Seth leaned in, his voice no louder than harsh whispers.

"It is the only way to save your friends and yourself, Potter," baited the sixteen-year-old boy, his voice rolling off his tongue with the sound of dry leaves blowing across a barren street. "Do you have what it takes to take my life, Potter? All it would take is the words Avada Kedavra... your soul is strong enough to make it work even without Dark Arts training. You have a unique understanding of the Killing Curse... don't you?"

Harry's hand shook with both trepidation and rage.

"Come on," said Seth coaxingly. "Give the Dark Arts a whirl... you never know, you might like them. What an amazingly powerful Dark Wizard you would be...The Boy Who Lived, heir to Salazar Slytherin and slayer of Lord Voldemort, the most powerful Dark Wizard to date."

"So... you are Voldemort," replied Harry, in the same, hissing tone. It was now clear to him that he was speaking in Parseltongue, the language of snakes.

"Our fates and our souls are linked by the glory of Narhassa. Slay one of us, and you slay the other," replied Redeytor.

Harry's wand continued to shake, as he processed his words.

"It is unavoidable, Potter. This is your one chance... control your anger and your hatred, channel it through your wand with your amazingly formidable soul... take my life. With the words Avada Kedavra, you will have protected your friends and will rise to become the most powerful and revered Dark Wizard the Earth has ever known."

Harry held his wand forward, not even consciously sure what is intention was. Yet, he felt strangely lured by the words, as he felt all of his frustration building up into his wand. The idea of a dark wizard was disgusting to him, but yet, he could not help but feel a slight rush of power. He felt as though he were holding a loaded gun to Seth, and he was the one with his finger upon the trigger.

Harry underwent a strange moment that he had experienced once before, once he was certain his life was about to end by Voldemort's wand.

He relived his entire childhood in a second. In a second, he felt Dudley punching him and hurting him. His head ached, not from his scar, but from a push Uncle Vernon had given him into the cupboard under the stairs, once, when he was seven. He had slammed his head into the floor and began to cry. He sobbed and whimpered, but no one heard him. It was at that moment that Harry knew he was not a normal child. All of his natural instincts had rebelled against his existence. Someone was to come and console him; someone had to care, Harry had thought.

Yet no one did.

And once again, Harry found himself down beneath the dungeon in Hogwarts, alone and facing Professor Quirrell. He felt the heat of the flames scorching the back of his neck, from a wall of fire. Before him, Professor Quirrell had untied his turban, revealing for the first time, the face of Lord Voldemort. His eyes shot pleadingly about for a solution, for Hermione, for Ron... for someone to help him.

Yet no one did.

He saw the figure of Seth Redeytor... no, it was Tom Riddle, for by his side, a large serpent glared at Harry with murderous intent. Now, Harry was in the Chamber of Secrets. He could feel the cold iron sword within his hands; the sword of Godric Gryffindor. There was a sharp pain in his leg, and he could here Tom Riddle laughing over the hissing serpent. He saw Ginny Weasley, lying helpless. He had pleaded for help and for support...for someone to come and win the day for him.

Yet no one did.

And finally, Harry saw the eyes of Cedric Diggory staring at him helplessly, filled with cold death. The boy was gone and would not be able to help him. He stared at the cauldron, as Wormtail threw his hand into the seething liquid, from which a creature had sunk to the bottom of the cauldron.

Please, let it drown, Harry had thought at the time. He thought it now, more than ever. Let every day from that day to this be some kind of dream. Let him and Cedric proudly hoist the House Cup above their heads, and split the thousand galleons, fifty/fifty; a victory for Hogwarts.

But, now he was facing a newly arisen Voldemort, hiding behind the tombstone again, like he had done years ago. He looked every which way for help; he begged for it... he nearly cried for it. Someone had to hear him; someone had to care.

Yet no one did.

And now, he glared upon Seth Redeytor as the compellation of all his misery. Lord Voldemort, helpless before him... and all it would take is two words. Harry could feel all of his hatred manifesting within his chest and he could feel his wand searing hot with energy. His wand was drawing upon his soul in preparation for the spell Harry was about to cast. One last look showed that Harry was indeed alone. Jessica had fallen back, both in trepidation and astonishment. It was only him and Seth... with no one to help him and no one who cared.

As with all the situations Harry saw rolling through his head, now, only one person would help him: himself.

Seth's face broke into an outright mirthless grin, as Harry's shaking wand locked with steady firmness.

It ends now... hissed Harry, in his own mind.

And without further adieu, Harry cried out as loud as he could.

"Avada Kedavra!"