Unforeseen Trials (Completed)

" Surdis, preforo!" Harry bellowed, dodging Bigsby's stunner.

The dueling captain shielded, returning with a wide-array fire spell, forcing him to shield.

The sixth year pressed his advantage, following up with a transfigured wolf.

Harry's eyes widened in temporary horror as the wolf bound towards him, completely missing the stunner aimed his way.

"Not bad, Harry!" Phil praised, offering him his hand.

"You're still a little predictable in your movements, but that will come with time."

He smiled. Since his performance in the first duels Phil and Jerome had been taking the time to duel with him before and after practices, and while Jerome had gone home for the holiday, Phil had stayed at the castle.

"I heard you're meeting your godfather today, nervous?" Phil asked casually, tossing him a bottle of water as they headed back upstairs.

"Kinda.. Until a few weeks ago I thought he was a murderer, now I'm spending Christmas with him."

The older boy nodded in understanding. "Sounds awkward."

He shrugged. "It is what it is." He smiled. "Get anything good for Christmas?" Attempting to change the conversation to anything other than his upcoming lunch.

"What's he like, sir?" He asked the headmaster as they stopped outside of the designated room.

Dumbledore observed him thoughtfully; "Sirius Black was smart as a whip, well-liked, and your father's best friend."

Harry frowned, but the headmaster continued; "he has, however, spent the last ten years as an innocent man in the most miserable environment on the planet." Dumbledore ended, sounding far more cheerful than he felt was appropriate.

"He's alright, mentally, right?" 'Last thing I need is to be attacked by a lunatic.'

"Never to fear, my boy! I'll be right there with you."

Harry shot him a skeptical look, then walked through the door.

The three of them stood quietly for a moment, before the thin man in plain black robes seemed to notice him, his eyes lighting up.

"James!" His godfather shouted, wrapping him in a tight embrace as he tightened from the unexpected contact.

"It's been so long! How's Lily? And Harry, he's got to be close to 2!" Sirius Black's dim eyes seemed to brighten up at the mention of him.

' At least he seems to care about me?' He thought to himself. 'Or at least my dad?'

Dumbledore interrupted the still rambling man softly. Sirius seemed to re-orientate himself, taking a step back and flashing him a sheepish grin, looking him up and down once more.

"Sorry about that, Harry." He replied nervously, looking anywhere but his face.

His godfather took a deep breath, before looking him in the eyes. "It's going to take me a while before I'm right in the head, but I promise, I will recover, and I will be the godfather you deserve to have."

Harry gave him a distrusting look before tentatively stretching out his hand; "Harry Potter."

The other man seemed to relax slightly; "Sirius Black."

They spent the next hour getting to know one another. Harry told him about his friends, his love of magic and dueling. While Sirius told Harry about his dad's love of quidditch and mischief, and his mom's fascination charms.

"Did any of you duel for Gryffindor?" Harry asked curiously.

Sirius shook his head, shooting Dumbledore a grin; "Albus didn't allow dueling at Hogwarts when we were in school."

The headmaster scoffed; "It would have been a nightmare; you and James caused enough trouble without sanctioned dueling."

Harry smiled. "Were my parents good with a wand?"

Sirius thought for a second; "Lily was brilliant at charms and potions, and slightly above average in everything else. James, however, was brilliant with a wand."

He smiled again.

"Harry," Sirius began, nervous suddenly, shoving a package in his hand; "since I had never met you, and didn't know what you liked, I had to guess on you Christmas present. I hope you like it."

Harry slowly unwrapped the paper and took a second to observe the rectangular box in front of him, opening it up to reveal several blue and bronze robes with the Ravenclaw crest on them. Removing them from the box, he noticed how light the pair of robes were.

"Dueling robes." His godfather said. "One for practice, one for competition. They've got the standard protection spells on them."

Harry smiled broadly. "They're brilliant!"

Sirius just smiled back at him.

With the promise to write, lunch ended a few minutes later.

' I can't wait to show Phil these!' He thought to himself, heading back towards the common room.

"Shut up, Rodolphus." Bellatrix said as they stepped through the tall, arching door into a circular room adorned with torches.

"You know why we're here." She snapped.

Prior to his stay in Azkaban, Rodolphus had been the epitome of masculinity. Tall, wide shoulders; sharp, regal features and dark blonde hair. Her husband had been likable enough, if not a bit dim, with a decent sense of humor.

That was before his stay in Azkaban.

The prison had changed the man she loved. His regal features and beautiful, lively, blue eyes had been replaced by sagging skin and a haunted look.

The man was now stupid, paranoid, and temperamental. The healers Lucius had provided were worthless. Bellatrix was wondering if all the effort it had taken to free the prisoners had been worth it.

Before he could respond, the bickering couple were interrupted by the entrance of an overweight wizard with pale skin entering through a previously unseen door.

"Lady Lestrange!" Marcel DuPont greeted cheerfully.

' France has done wonders for his mood.' She thought to herself.

The necromancer then turned to her husband, giving him a peculiar look. Foregoing any greeting, the elder wizard lowered himself a few centimeters, getting close to Rodolphus' face, examining every feature on his face.

Her husband began to growl impatiently.

Grabbing Rodolphus' arm she shot him a brief glare.

"Marcel!" She snapped, allowing a bit of hatred into her voice the French wizard suddenly found a wand in his face.

Bellatrix grabbed her husband's arm possessively, not lowering her wand. " Step away from my husband." She growled.

Seemingly unperturbed, DuPont stepped away from Rodolphus. "Forgive me, Lord Lestrange. I lost my composure for a second."

Rodolphus puffed out his chest, narrowed his eyes, and took a step forward.

She purred in satisfaction. 'There's the man I married.'

A look of danger passed across Marcel's face before he replied, "I don't believe anyone has had the opportunity to study someone who has spent significant time in the presence of dementors."

The man paused, a plan already beginning to form in Bellatrix's mind. 'This could work much better.'

"What can I do for you, Lady Lestrange?" The danger had retreated from his voice; ' this man is exceptionally dangerous.' She reminded herself.

"How have you found your return to France?" She replied, sighing to herself, ' best to make some small talk with the old aristocrat.'

"Agreeable enough." He nodded, a small smile on his face. "Bolivia was uncomfortable and lacked certain… resources."

She returned his smile. "And how's Francis enjoying his promotion?"

DuPont frowned. "I wouldn't know." His frown deepened. "My nephew allows me a certain level of protection but refuses to meet me in person. Apparently I hurt his career."

It was her turn to frown. "Has he denied you any comforts? Is there anything I can provide you with?"

The old necromancer shook his head softly. "No, nothing like that. He's quite eager to keep me pleased as long as it doesn't require a face-to-face meeting."

Bellatrix smiled slightly. "I would like you to ask your nephew to meet with Lucius in-person when he visits on behalf of Fudge this spring."

"And why would I help you?" Marcel questioned.

She gave him a predatory smile; "I will let you study my husband."

From next to her she saw Rodolphus' hateful glare, but he said nothing.

Marcel smiled warmly at her. "I will write my nephew immediately." He walked over to Rodolphus, putting an arm around his shoulder, and leading him to a door.

"Pierre!" He snapped. "Show Lady Lestrange to the dungeons." Marcel then turned to her; "I have some muggles down there I have no further use for. Why don't you make yourself comfortable while I run some diagnostics on your husband?"

It was her turn to smile. 'That couldn't have gone better.' She thought, following the hideous looking Pierre through another door.

"We're going to the third floor near Babbling's classroom, right?" Terry asked for the third time.

" Yes, Terry." Harry sighed. Terry gave him a small smirk, hanging a quick right.

At his questioning look, Terry said; "I overheard the Weasley twins talking about a passage behind the twirling cupid statue. It's supposed to lead that way."

Harry shrugged; "lead the way."

Terry always seemed to know the secrets of the castle.

Five minutes later the pair were setting up their cauldrons in an unused classroom on the third floor.

"Why are we doing this again?" Harry groaned.

"Because I'm going to be on the advanced syllabus next year and won't be there to save your ass."

"I'll pay you not to go on the advanced syllabus. Name your price." He was serious. He'd barely scrapped an "O" last year.

"You can't afford me Harry. Taking my OWL and NEWT's early will give me more time to study law and finance."

The look on Terry's face told Harry he wouldn't change his friend's mind. Resigned, he sighed.

" Fine. What are we brewing, anyways?

"Bone-strengthening potion." Terry replied. "We're brewing it in March, so it's not too advanced."

Harry nodded.

"Counter-clockwise Harry!" Terry yelled, as he slowly stirred his silver ladle, a Christmas gift from the boy, in a counterclockwise direction.

' One… Two… Three,' he counted in his head before quickly adding a half-stir clockwise. It wasn't in the directions. But he knew, from Terry's coaching, that a full stir would ultimately make his potion a little too thick.

Harry removed his ladle and smiled as Terry inspected his potion.

"Not a bad first attempt, Harry. But you added a little too much gillywater. While it doesn't render the potion useless, it does weaken it a bit."

Harry's smile turned into a slight frown. "I thought it was good."

"It was." Terry nodded. "But Snape would probably give you an "A."

Harry just groaned.

"How's that potion your mom was creating, going?" Harry asked curiously. From Terry's boasting right after break, it sounded like it could be a game-changer."

"The Wolfsbane?" Terry smiled. "It's going great. She got her patent approved last week."

"What's it does?" 'A galleon says it has something to do with Werewolves.' He thought to himself.

"The potion allows Werewolves to maintain control of their mind on the full-moon."

Harry sat in thought for a second. "Is it kinda like occlumency?"

Terry wore a look of shock. "You know about occlumency?"

Harry just grinned; "yeah, why?"

"Who's teaching you?" Terry asked.

"I don't have a teacher." Harry frowned.

Terry just shook his head. "Wolfsbane is kinda like a temporary occlumency shield that allows the person to keep their mind… I think." He added.

Terry grinned again. "You promised to show me the spells you were working on."

" Ardere Sagitto!" She heard a familiar voice from an unused classroom down the hall.

' What the hell?' She thought, as she watched several arrows impale themselves on the chalk board.

Potter smirked at Boot. "Accio arrows!" The dark-haired boy said.

A second later two arrows were flying towards his hand.

"Damn." She heard Potter say. "I only got two of them."

Daphne brushed a few strands out of her face to get a better view.

Fifty feet in front of her Harry Potter and Terry Boot were talking quietly to themselves.

A half second later, with a shout and a jab, "Ruo Flagram!" Harry yelled as a weak, black fire whip sputtered out of his wand.

' Dark spells Potter?' She smiled darkly, 'Lily was right, you are full of surprises.'

"I'm getting kinda tired, Terry." Potter responded. "One more and I'm leaving."

She watched him intently as he waved his wand around the room. "Reparo Fortis!"

Daphne could tell he'd had plenty of practice with this spell, as the room slowly repaired itself.

Taking one last glance at the Ravenclaws, she snuck away, a look of contemplation on her face.

"Mipsy!" Harry called.

To his surprise, a half second later, a tiny house-elf appeared in front of him. 'I can't believe that worked.'

A few minutes ago, Hedwig had arrived in the great hall with a package from Sirius. Not wanting to open it in front of everyone, he had run to the portrait in the dungeons, sealing the entrance to his room behind him as he entered.

"What can Mipsy's be doing for you?"

Curious, Harry asked; "Mipsy, will you answer me anywhere in the castle?"

"Yes Mr. Potter, sir; Mipsy will answer calls within the castle." She nodded enthusiastically, floppy green ears covering her eyes as she did so.

He smiled. "Could you bring me some lunch, please?"

Mipsy nodded and disappeared with a pop.

Turning to the letter in front of him, he began to read.

Harry -

I'm feeling much better, thanks for asking. I have submitted a petition to the Wizengamot that would allow me full custody of you this summer. My barrister tells me it's a long shot, but I am going to try, nonetheless.

After talking with you at Christmas, I took it upon myself to make copies of all the photos I have of your parents. The album is arranged in order from oldest to most recent.

Best of luck in your duels next weekend,

Sirius

Harry smiled as he flipped through the album. The pages were filled with photos of a young Sirius Black and James Potter playing quidditch, standing by the lake, or terrorizing some of their other friends.

He looked at one of an angry looking redheads around his age sending curses at a young James Potter in what he assumed was the Gryffindor common room and smiled.

" In our third year, your father spent hours trying to transfigure a rose for your mother. When he thought he got it right, he approached Lily in the Gryffindor common room to ask her to Hogsmeade. What he didn't know was that Moony and I cursed it to shoot ink. This is the result."

Harry laughed, 'I wonder who Moony is?'

He penned a quick response, setting it to the side. He turned to the locked drawer on the desk in front of him and cast a quick diagnostics charm.

He frowned. 'Five months.' That's how long he had been trying to figure out how to unlock the mysterious drawer. He had never had so much trouble with anything in his life. Even more, he didn't have the first idea what the wards did, except that they would cause him pain if he tried to force his way in.

He sighed and turned back to the picture. "Cursing an object is just like enchanting…." Riddle's notes had said.

He took out his glowing, blue block, jotted a few notes in his notebook, and smiled. 'Forty-two days.' That's how long it had been since he had had to recast the charm.

Taking out a quill he thought for a second.

" Coma Caerula!" He said tapping the quill.

The quill glowed, and a quick diagnostics spell later confirmed that the hair-coloring curse had worked.

After jotting some notes down on a new sheet of parchment, he set pushed it all aside and picked up his wand,

Pointing it at the chair in front of him he whispered 'Gemino' a few times, leaving him with a half dozen chairs.

Aiming his wand, the first chair quickly became a larger desk, then a wooden box, then a metal lawn chair.

Switching his focus, he continued the next set of spells on his list, finishing with the list Flitwick had given him with a whispered 'ardere sagitto.' Impaling the chair with half-dozen arrows.

Turning to the third chair he smiled. A young Tom Riddle had described a similar exercise in some of his notes.

" Ruo Flagram!" A small, black, fire whip attached itself to the end of his wand, he flicked his wrist and the fire cut through the chair, before quickly dissipating.

' Finally!' It had taken him nearly three weeks, but he had finally gotten the flame whip to work properly. ' Now all I have to do is strengthen it.'

Remembering his duel with Daphne, and using the same wand movements as ' protego,' he yelled 'Contego!'

A dull silver glow emanated from around him. Unlike the protego charm, contego, when cast properly, would conform to the shape of the casters body, moving with him as he dodged.

Unfortunately, his attempt was far from proper, and his silver shield hung near him, but burst as he moved.

His next few attempts were little better, and he frowned. 'I need to get that before next Saturday.'

Jotting down some more notes, he moved onto the next spell on Riddle's list.

" Fulminis!" He shouted, waving his wand erratically.

Nothing happened.

Checking the notes in front of him he frowned, practicing the wand movements a few more times before trying again.

" Fulminis!" He yelled again, his wand movements more in control then on previous attempts.

Still nothing. His frown deepened, and he sighed. Taking out his notebook, he began to take notes.

Tired, he decided to skip ancient runes and find Terry.

' Maybe we can spend the evening playing chess?'

He thought, exiting the room.

"Galleon says Potter wins the rematch." Blaise said from next to her.

She watched as the Harry and Daphne bowed to each other to start the last second year duel of the night.

She idly wondered if they scheduled it this way on-purpose. "Deal." She said, her eyes not leaving the duel, as they each began their first salvo. "Daphne is too quick for Harry."

She frowned, as she said that Daphne dodged right into his bombarda, getting knocked to the ground. Rolling out of the way, Daphne returned with several stunners, providing her with a few seconds to get back on her feet.

"Besides; Daphne says Harry uses too many spells in his duels."

Blaise grunted from next to her.

In the pit Harry was dodging a series of piercing curses with ease. 'He's improved.' She thought approvingly.

While Harry had always been a great student and shown plenty of determination; his tutoring with Flitwick over the summer had pushed him well-beyond everyone in their year, including the girl he was dueling.

' Daphne really hated that.' She thought amusedly as her friend finally caught Harry with a jelly-legs jinx.

Harry, according to Daphne, used too many spells to be a real threat to beat her. According to the green-eyed girl, in duels, it was best to stick to a small arsenal of spells you could cast rapidly. At least until you were more experienced.

Her friend, she noticed; liked to stick to stunners, piercing curses, reductors, and bombarda's.

"Daphne may be quicker." Blaise broke the silence from next to her. "But Potter is stronger."

' Damn she's fast!' Harry thought to himself with a grin. Greengrass was an exceptional dueler and was the only one in their year who could compete with him in the pit.

" Contego!" He shouted. A silver shield hanging slightly off his body, he allowed the piercing curse to crash harmlessly against his shield, moving to the right, he returned fire with an arrow.

Greengrass ducked, sending a tripping hex his way.

Harry jumped to avoid it, getting hit with a reductor.

Feeling his shield shatter, he immediately dodged to the left.

" Aquapilatum." He yelled.

A large ball of water erupted from his wand, and Greengrass' eyes went wide.

He smiled, then followed up with a quick "glacius."

Just like the other day against Edgecombe, the ball of water froze into a ball of ice.

Greengrass didn't have time to shield as the ball of ice hit her in the chest, launching her out of the circle and into the protective wards surrounding the pit.

" Victory, Ravenclaw." He heard the official say as he rushed towards the blonde girl, only to pause.

Greengrass was now standing, walking towards him with a murderous look on her face.

He stood his ground, returning her glare.

Greengrass hesitated, her look softened slightly; "Good duel, Potter. I look forward to beating you in May." She said, grasping his hand briefly and stalking away.

' Sore loser.' He thought to himself, a look of beguilement on his face.

"Who the hell does he think he is?"

Her friend ranted as they entered the common room.

"I know." Lily replied. "He cost me a galleon."

Daphne turned to her; a look that promised pain clear on her face.

' Get over yourself Daphne.' "Oh please, Daphne. Get over yourself, it was one loss. You said he was good, so quit bitching."

Daphne deflated a bit. "I should have beat him." She said, looking her in the eyes. "What's the strongest spell you've seen him cast?" She asked, curiously.

Lily pondered her question for a second. "And you called him a stalker for watching you in Diagon Alley?" She mumbled.

"What was that?" Daphne growled, her cheeks turning red. Whether it was anger or a blush, she didn't know.

"He was trying to cast ' fulminus' last week."

Daphne balked at her. "That's an intermediary lightning elemental spell." Her friend said, looking at her in disbelief.

"Well, I never said he was successful." Lily replied. "He did manage a bit of lightning with ' debiles fulmen' thought."

Daphne looked at her thoughtfully. " I can do that." She puffed with pride before adding; "I want you to spy on him for me before the final. I can't let the Ravenclaw beat me again."

Lily flashed her a look of amusement. "Sure, thing Daphne."

' Tempus' Lucius Malfoy thought. ' He's late.' He frowned, then cast a silent cooling charm on himself. It was unusually warm for Paris in March.

A few minutes later, the receptionist ushered him into Minister DuPont's office and shut the door.

"Lord Malfoy." The tall, honey-blonde haired man greeted.

"Minister DuPont." Lucius replied with grace. "Thank you for seeing me." 'As if you had a choice.' He added silently.

Francis DuPont seemed to be thinking along the same lines and offered him a forced smile. "Of course. How can I help you?"

Lucius smirked viciously; " Imperio." He said quietly.

The Minister's eyes widened briefly before taking on a more glazed overlook.

He really disliked the man.

Waiting another five minutes he commanded DuPont to stand up and escort him out.

Stepping into the floo he allowed himself a small smile; "Malfoy Manor, Worcestershire." He enunciated, disappearing into the flames.

Albus Dumbledore observed the pepper-haired man down the street from under his disillusionment charm.

' Walden has really let himself go.' He smiled to himself, following the man deep into 'Whispering Alley.'

Whispering Alley was a pleasant neighborhood located off a street towards the south end of Diagon Alley.

He followed the man past several boutiques, and pubs filled with young purebloods, down a side-street past several expensive looking townhomes.

It had become a sort of tradition among the wealthy pureblood families to maintain a townhome or penthouse in the alley for their children to live in upon graduation.

Walden Macnair used his for his mistress.

The headmaster stopped at the edge of the wards, dipping around the corner to keep watch.

Several minutes later a well-built young man he recognized as Rupert Macnair disappeared behind the wards.

Dumbledore frowned. Rupert was a good young man; he didn't want to get him involved if he could help it.

He waited.

Albus had been following Walden Macnair for several days, hoping to get him alone.

The man had been one of the highest-ranking Death Eater's to escape Azkaban after the war, if anyone may have a lead on some of Voldemort's secrets, it was this man.

An hour later he saw Rupert exit the wards, alone.

He frowned. 'Time for plan B.'

Quickly hitting the former Head Boy with a stunner, he followed up with a disillusionment charm, hiding the young man from sight.

Dragging Rupert into the side street, Dumbledore cast several wards and conjured a table and a chair.

Taking out a silver knife, Albus Dumbledore cut the boy's wrist, gathering his blood into a beaker before healing his wound.

Removing several beakers from inside his midnight purple robes, he began to combine the contents, adding the blood in last and drinking it in one go.

He slipped into the boy's mind for a few seconds, learning the layout of his father's townhome before erasing Rupert's memory and reviving him.

The boy looked around confused for a second, before apparating away.

Walking towards where he knew the townhouse to be, a small iron gate appeared in front of him.

He felt the warm ripple of the blood wards accept him as he walked down the well-groomed stone path.

The townhouse was beautiful, he admitted as he took in the white panels covered in ivy.

Removing his silver knife once again, he cut his palm - smearing the blood on the door in front of him.

The door opened with a slight creak and Albus took a right towards where he knew Walden's study to be.

The living room was comfortably decorated with dark leather couches and several oak tables. Albus continued straight and paused at the entrance to the study.

Walden Macnair was sitting next to the fire enjoying a glass of firewhisky.

Wasting no time, Dumbledore hit the man with a stunner.

The man's mind had minimal protections, he thought as he tore through his mind, focusing on memories associated with known Death Eaters.

He paused at a recent memory of a meeting at Malfoy Manor.

" Will you be ready, Walden?" Antonin Dolohov asked.

The younger man nodded. "Let Bellatrix know she can count on us."

Dumbledore dug further but found no more information on what Bellatrix Lestrange was planning.

' I wonder…' He thought, focusing on memories of Bellatrix Lestrange.

It was a memory of Rodolphus, not Bellatrix, that caught his attention.

A much younger Walden Macnair was having dinner with Rodolphus Lestrange at what he recognized as Lestrange Manor.

" What's troubling you, Rodolphus?" The rough voice of Macnair inquired.

The athletically built blonde grunted in frustration. "Bellatrix and our Lord are keeping something from me."

" Do you know what?" Macnair followed up.

Lestrange appeared to lose his patience. "If I knew then they wouldn't be keeping it from me." He growled. " All I know is that she has been entrusted with an item of importance."

Dumbledore probed deeper but there was nothing else of value.

Taking some time to browse through the townhouse, Albus Dumbledore felt fairly pleased with himself.

Legs crossed and eyes shut, it was 5AM and Harry was working on his meditation.

Meditation, he had learned, was a gateway to occlumency.

He steadied his breathing, taking in deep, even breaths he allowed himself to fall into a soft rhythm.

Meditation, regarding occlumency, consisted of four preparatory steps. He had finally gotten to a point with step one, breathing, that he was now working on step two.

Harry searched his senses. Remembering the smell of the salty sea air, the feeling of his feet dangling over a cliff as the sun set over the Strait of Dover. In the background, he remembered the sound of the crickets, chirping in the background.

The objective of the second step was to visualize a relaxing memory, allow it to replay on a loop, blocking out all outside distractions. That would eventually give way to visualizing a single image, and sometime later - complete darkness.

The goal was to condition his mind to go blank, allowing him to detect foreign intrusions.

His mind began to wander as he thought about that day, Filius teaching him reparo after he had broken a vase with an errant spell in mid-June.

' Dammit.' He thought to himself, his concentration broken.

With a sigh he got up and began to get ready for the day.

Bellatrix Lestrange Granted Sanctuary in Bulgaria!

The Prophet read and he frowned.

In a surprise move, last night Bulgarian Minister for Magic, Grozdana Dimitar, announced that wanted terrorist Bellatrix Lestrange has been granted political asylum by the Bulgarian Government.

" After meeting with Lady Lestrange, and based on recent events, I am convinced that the British Ministry of Magic would not allow Lady Lestrange a fair trial. Until my administration is assured that Lady Lestrange's rights are not being violated, we will allow her to stay in our country."

Readers remember that Lady Lestrange has been a fugitive from law since escaping justice following the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom on November 1st, 1981.

A statement from the Longbottom family read, in part.

' We are disgusted by the actions taken by the Bulgarian government to legitimize a terrorist like Bellatrix Lestrange.'

French Minister of Magic had equally harsh words; calling the move a 'spit in the face to the memories of the victims in Cannes.' Recalling the infamous massacre led by Lady Lestrange on Gaston Alley in 1978. 'I urge Minister Dimitar to repeal her offer of sanctuary and turn the criminal over to British authorities.'

Lucius Malfoy, speaking on behalf of Minister Fudge condemned the move by the Bulgarians, but said that the British government would 'respect the sovereignty of Bulgaria' but quickly added 'every action has consequences.'

Bellatrix Lestrange has long been suspected of hiding in the Eastern European nation, but last night's radical move is, to echo Minister DuPont's strong words, a 'slap in the face' to Bellatrix Lestranges numerous victims.

The Editorial Board at the Daily Prophet unanimously condemns the actions of the Dimitar administration.

Harry set the paper down in disgust. Across the hall she caught Greengrass shooting Draco Malfoy a look of pure hatred.

He glanced over to the Gryffindor table and saw the usually unassuming Neville Longbottom shaking with rage.

' Why would Bulgaria offer Lestrange exile?' He pondered. He understood Minister Dimitar's reasoning about a fair trial, Sirius was proof of that, but why not just turn her over to the French?

Frowning, he looked up in time to see Hedwig swoop down towards him from above, extending her talons just enough to clip Goldstein's hair as she flew by.

"Ruddy bird!" Goldstein tried to shout through a full mouth, throwing a biscuit at his owl.

From under the table Harry hit the boy with a weak stinging hex, causing him to yelp in pain, before he glanced towards Harry, sending him a glare.

Ignoring him, he offered Hedwig some sausage before grabbing his letter from Sirius.

He smiled as he took in his godfather's messy handwriting. His smile turned into excitement as he read that he would be able to spend weekends with Sirius this summer, and he even mentioned tutors and a vacation! He had never been on vacation.

Pushing his thoughts out of his mind, he followed the rest of his classmates out of the hall - breaking away to head to third year charms, as the continued straight towards second year transfiguration.

"Harry!" Professor Flitwick greeted him as him arrived for his class consultation. "Please take a seat, can I get you some tea?"

He politely declined, as the charms professor poured himself a glass of Earl Grey.

The two made pleasantries for a few minutes before the talk shifted to school.

"Your marks are quite good again this year, Harry." Flitwick said with a smile. "Even in potions and astronomy; Mr. Boot and Miss Moon's tutelage has paid off, I assume?"

Harry nodded in agreement. "Both want to be on the advanced syllabus next year." He stated.

"They both will be and Mr. Boot, at least, will be on the advanced syllabus in charms and transfiguration."

"And Lily?" He asked, hoping he wouldn't have to separate the two.

"I can't speak for Professor McGonagall, but Ms. Moon will be on the advanced syllabus in charms."

He smiled. 'Well, that's a relief.' He thought to himself.

"Sir," he started, biting his lip in hesitation, "I was hoping to be on the advanced syllabus for charms and transfiguration next year."

Flitwick frowned. "I do not think that is a good idea, Harry." The former dueling champion took a sip of his tea; "you're already a year ahead, and with the dueling team, and the addition of your supplementary courses next year, I do not want to overburden you."

Harry groaned in frustration. "I can handle it! I'm already a month into fourth year in both courses."

"Still, it is for the best." Flitwick replied, a sense of finality in his voice. "Now what classes do you wish to take next year?"

Harry thought for a second, "I want to take warding after my OWL's." He began; "so I guess that means Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."

The professor nodded his head in approval. "Have you began studying either subject, Harry?"

He nodded. "I found some old third year runes and arithmancy books, professor. I'm going to be a year ahead by September."

Flitwick smiled. "And your block, Harry?"

Reaching into his bag, he pulled out his block of wood, still glowing blue.

"When was the last time you had to cast the charm?"

"January 3rd at 15:30." He replied proudly.

"Five months!" Flitwick beamed in pride. "Almost halfway there."

He smiled at the praise.

"Sir, would you continue tutoring me this summer?" He asked, hopefully.

Flitwick offered him another smile. "Of course! If you are serious about arithmancy and warding, I suggest setting up a meeting with professor Vector. I know she has tutored students over the holidays in the past."

Harry beamed, making a note to see the young professor as soon as possible.

"Quit your bitching, Potter." Terry growled out, leading them down a dark, narrow passageway he'd nicked off Chang. " You're the one who wanted to be more social."

The raven-haired boy scowled; "I didn't mean going to the lounge. I meant maybe a game of gobstones with Corner, or something."

"Where do you think they'll be, Harry?" Terry yelled over his shoulder, pushing the portrait out of the way, and heading straight to the lounge.

The lounge was really a former teacher's lounge from a few centuries ago that had been repurposed into an unofficial student lounge some while back.

Music echoed throughout the room as they stepped through another portrait.

They had barely gotten steps inside when a familiar voice called out to him.

"Terry!" Ernie bellowed, Finch-Fletchley nipping at his heels.

He reached out lightly, digging into Justin Finch-Fletchley's thoughts. 'Sick sister.' He filed away that piece of information before taking Ernie's hand.

"Ernie! How have you been?" He replied, taking the offered butterbeer's and handing one to Harry.

"I've been well! I'm hoping to try out for the team next year." The boy said with a smile, turning to Harry for the first time.

"I hope I'll get to face you next year, Harry."

Harry smiled nervously at Ernie. 'Uncertainty, anxiety' he felt, withdrawing subtly.

He didn't need to probe Ernie. Ernie was confident in any situation.

"I hope so." Harry nodded his head a little too eagerly and Justin laughed a little.

Harry shot the boy a glare. 'He probably thinks he's being mocked.' Terry changed the subject.

"So, Justin. Are you excited for Haley to start next year?"

Justin looked at him in mock horror at the mention of his little sister. The child was a nightmare, he was certain Justin's father had stopped bringing her to social events.

"Not in the slightest. I just hope she's in Gryffindor." He replied with a chuckle.

The pair excused themselves, and Harry directed them over to a pair of comfortable looking chairs near the fire.

"So, what's everyone doing here anyways?" Harry asked as Terry noticed him taking in the groups of laughing students, playing various games, and yelling over the music.

"Exams start in two weeks. The Gryffindors decided to throw a final party before everyone starts to study." Terry explained.

"I wonder if the Weasley twins had anything to do with it?"

As if on cue, the two gingers appeared behind them.

"Why Harry, we're flattered!" The first one said coming into view.

"Thanks, Fred." His friend replied.

The twins looked at each other in shock.

"You can tell us apart?" Harry just nodded his head. "Fred has a freckle on his right eyelid."

The twins just looked at each other, before turning to Harry with a smile. "Not many people notice that." The twin - George, he supposed - replied. "Keep it quiet, will you two?" Fred replied with a wink.

And like that, the two were gone.

"Huh. I can't believe I was right." Harry said from next to him.

"You guessed?" Terry replied.

"Yup."

His companion went silent for a few seconds, and Terry caught him steal a glance at Daphne.

The regal looking blonde was currently in an animated conversation with Cho Chang about something or another.

"Terry…" 'Here it comes,' he smiled to himself. "What do you know about Daphne Greengrass?"

"Why do you assume I'd know?" He paused, before adding; "and why do you want to know?"

Harry looked at him, avoiding his eyes. 'Did he know?' He thought to himself.

"I've caught her watching me a few times this year, I'm just curious. Besides, you know everything about purebloods."

Terry just nodded. 'I brought it upon myself, really; giving him that book.' Thinking for a second he decided to give him the basics.

"The Greengrass family is a pureblood family of diminishing importance." He began. "While they maintain their hereditary seat on the Wizengamot, and a modest manor; a series of poor business decisions have put them at the lower end of the pureblood spectrum, economically speaking."

"What about Daphne though, why would she be following me?" Harry said in exasperation.

Terry shrugged and answered honestly. "I don't know. But I doubt she's following you. It's likely that after your duels, you interest her."

Harry seemed deep in thought.

"However!" He continued, deciding to give his friend a little more. "Daphne adored her great aunt Ophelia."

Harry nodded his head; "so that's how Daphne's related to her. How can she adore someone who's dead?"

Terry shrugged. "She probably has some journals, maybe a few memories. Ophelia Greengrass was a fearsome witch."

Harry gestured for him to continue.

"She was one of Grindelwald's more competent Generals, probably the most competent that avoided Nurmengard. She was a sadistic fighter."

Harry smiled. "Her book on dueling is amazing."

Terry returned his smile. "You copy her fighting style exactly, it's very distinct."

"What's your point, Terry?" Harry asked him.

His smile deepened. "Besides from yourself and Daphne, the most prominent person to mimic that style is Bellatrix Lestrange."

He opened the book to the table of contents excitedly. Powell had just finished his warding final and had lent him the sixth-year books for the summer.

'Pain Wards - Pg.264. 'He smiled, beginning to read.

It was a half hour, and several pages of notes later, when Harry saw it.

"' Gravi Capitis Dolore -' a small area protection ward; is used ideally on a door or container and causes those who encounter an active Gravi Capitis Dolore to be overcome with severe head pain for a short period of time. The moderate pain ward appears as a light-pink glow with black or violet tendrils around an object. This ward is easy to combine into a much larger ward scheme.

Gravi Capitis Dolore has no specific counter. To counter the ward, one must reach out with their magic, visualizing it cutting through the ward. Success will depend on the casters strength in relation to whoever originally cast the spell; a failed attempt will trigger the ward."

He smiled. After months he had finally solved the mystery of the drawer.

Marking the book and tossing it into his bag, Harry briskly exited the library, heading towards his room.

Rounding the last corner, he broke into a light jog, foregoing his invisibility cloak; reaching the swaying snake, he loudly hissed at the portrait.

He waited impatiently for the door to appear, stepping through haphazardly he closed the door.

Not noticing that the door hadn't completely shut, he made his way over to the desk in front of him, of the mess of blonde hair watching him from behind a suit of armor.

Removing his wand, he took a few seconds to steady his breathing.

Calmly, he cast the diagnostic charm, examining the glowing desk drawer.

' Pink glow, vicious looking black tendrils.' He smiled. He knew what to do.

Canceling the diagnostic charm, he steadied his breathing again. 'I have no idea how powerful Tom Riddle was.' He frowned.

Curiosity getting the best of the twelve-year-old, he focused on his magic - pushing it through his wand, and towards the desk drawer.

The ward responded instantly, the violent black tendrils emitting small sparks, as the ward fought against its destruction.

He his magic was losing, he realized.

Panic was starting to build in him for the first time, as he started to sweat from exertion.

He tried to calm his breathing but was losing that fight. Desperately he made one final push with his magic.

Instantly he was overcome with pain.

He heard himself screaming, as he felt the blood trickle down his face.

Then the pain was gone, and he vomited right on the desk.

" Gross." He heard a feminine voice say with dismay from in front of him.

"Tell Malfoy I'm not interested, Nott." Daphne growled, narrowing her eyes in danger.

Swallowing deeply, and with a nervous nod, Theodore Nott ran away from her.

She smirked to herself; turning to head towards she was nearly run over by an erratic Harry Potter.

Turning to follow him, she walked briskly for a second before ducking behind a suit of armor five feet away from where Potter was looking at a portrait.

' Where the hell did that portrait come from?' She asked herself.

In her two years walking this stretch of hallway multiple times a day, not once had she ever noticed a portrait of a snake charmer.

' What's he doing?' Her thoughts were interrupted by a noise coming from the boy. 'Is he hissing?'

She was shocked a half-second later when a door appeared.

Obviously expecting this, Potter stepped through.

She laughed silently to herself. 'Did that idiot really leave the door open?'

She was torn between not getting caught and following Potter into the unknown room.

Daphne sighed; 'it's not worth it.' She thought, turning on her hell to walk away.

She gets halfway down the hall when she heard him scream.

In front of her Potter was clutching his scar. 'Is that blood?'

Luckily the screaming had stopped, and the boy was just bleeding and shaking.

She was about to leave when the boy puked on the desk in front of him.

She scrunched her nose in disgust. "Gross," she heard herself say in disgust.

Emerald met emerald as she saw the recognition in his eyes.

"Daphne?" He questioned. "How the hell did you get in here?"

She rolled her eyes, trying to determine what she wanted. The room wasn't anything special. But the large bookshelf behind an extremely messy desk told her that Potter found the room useful.

She stepped closer to him, staring at the desk in curiosity, casting a quick diagnostic charm.

"Pain ward?" She asked.

"Gravi Capitis Dolore." He groaned in response.

"You're pathetic, Potter. Stop groaning and cast a pain relief charm on yourself."

He stared at her, bright red cheeks; "I don't know any." He admitted.

"Unbelievable." She muttered. "You obviously know what this ward is but took no effort to prepare for the possibility that you might fail."

"Allevo." She said in disgust, tapping him with her wand.

"That dumb bitch said you were smart."

"Who?" He responded.

' This idiot was top of their year?'

"Lily, obviously." She started. "And I'm here because in your rush to act like an idiot, you forgot to shut the door, I heard you scream."

"Damn." He muttered. "Well thank you, Daphne."

She gave him a look over. 'I'm not the only one who grew up.' She smirked.

When she had first seen Potter, he looked more like a house elf than a someone of any significance, she had been convinced that a strong gust of wind would blow him over. Now he stood slightly taller than her - even with her growth spurt.

Gone were the glasses, shabby robes; and pale, malnourished skin. She remembered seeing him in the medical wing in year one - she shuttered at the bittersweet event.

She allowed her smirk to turn into a scowl.

"What is this place anyways, Potter?"

He scowled back at her but gave her an answer. "I found it by accident. I think it used to belong to someone named 'Tom Riddle.'"

She frowned; "I've read that name in my aunt's journals…" Her frown deepened, as she tried to remember what she had read.

His head perked up a bit.

"Are you talking about your great aunt Ophelia?" He asked.

She gave him a dangerous look, subconsciously beginning to duck into her dueling stance.

"Yes." She replied. "What about her?"

To her frustration, Potter didn't balk at her tone; narrowing his own eyes in response, she could see him fingering his wand beneath the desk.

"I'm just curious." He replied, nonchalantly. "Terry had told me a little about her last year after he gave me one of her books."

' That little shit.' She thought, thinking of Boot. "Which one?"

" Fighting to Win." He responded. 'Well, that explains where he learned that style.' She thought to herself, easing up a bit.

"Ophelia was my grandfather's sister. She was the best duelist of the last century." She boasted in pride.

"What happened to her?" He asked curiously.

Her eyes narrowed again. "None of your business, Potter."

' Is that amusement? Is he amused by all of this?' She nearly cursed him, then smiled wickedly.

"In exchange for my silence. You will give me unfettered access to the library." She had him.

Potter just raised an eyebrow; "and why would I do that?" He smirked.

The smile never left her face. "Because I doubt you want the whole school knowing you're a parselmouth."

He frowned but didn't budge. "Why would I care what the school thinks of me? My dormmates already hate me."

She frowned slightly but didn't relent. "Do you know the three most famous parselmouths in history?"

He frowned and shook his head.

"Herpo The Foul, Salazar Slytherin, and The Dark Lord." She counted off on her fingers, smiling evilly, adding a fourth finger. "Harry Potter."

"One book at a time, Greengrass. And your lips are sealed." She just smiled, wiping a strand of blonde hair out of her face, she noticed him staring at her and smiled, heading over to the bookshelf.

"You keep your word, and I'll keep mine."

She was wearing new robes, he noticed.

In their last duel, Daphne had been wearing standard black dueling robes; now she was wearing dark slytherin green robes, with her house crest on her breast.

He smirked. 'I wonder if she got the idea from me.' He thought, sparing a glance at his own bronze and blue robes.

He liked Daphne's personality; he had realized after their only real conversation last weekend.

She had been angry, done her best to intimidate him, and attempted to blackmail him; but he liked her confidence, her obvious intelligence, and how she had expected more of him.

He smiled dangerously at her, as the referee started the duel.

He fired a half-dozen arrows at Daphne to open the final duel of second year.

' She's fast.'

His eyes widened in slight shock as Daphne deviated from her normal routine, replacing her bombarda and reducto's with bone-breakers and flipendo's.

He smirked; ' she realized she has to use more powerful spells against me.'

He dodged the bone breakers and the flipendo with ease but was hit in the thigh with a piercing curse.

He grimaced in pain. Returning fire with a whispered " Cannoventus," covering the pit with a thick, black smoke.

Using the smoke as a distraction, he fired a half-dozen bone-breakers towards his opponent.

He smiled savagely as he heard Daphne yelp in pain from behind the smoke.

The broken bone wasn't enough to keep her down, however, as she returned fire with a new round of spell fire.

Bleeding profusely from his left leg, and unable to move, Harry shielded the first two spells, but let out a cry of his own as he took a bone-breaker to the chest.

His breathing became labored, and his mouth began to fill with blood.

He shielded one last desperate time, before firing off a concussion hex.

With her own broken leg, Daphne was forced to shield. She smiled triumphantly at him briefly, before a large ball of fire erupted from her wand.

He used his remaining strength to dive out of the way of the fire, exiting the circle as he did so.

" Ravenclaw is disqualified. Slytherin is the winner."

Looking up from the ground, he saw Daphne grinning victoriously at him from across the platform. She caught his eye and nodded at him in respect, he returned her nod, vowing to win his year group next year.