"Master." The student knelt at the bedside, his master lying sickly, dying. "What would you have me do?"

"A week ago…*cough*…I had a vision. A boy, needs to be trained." The pair were surrounded by others, family members and friends. "Go to him. *cough*cough*" The master shoved a scroll into his students hand. "Go, and remember me as I was and not like this."

The student bowed his head and stood up. A flash of light in the corner of the room caught his attention, then the light was in his hand. "I cannot accept this."

"It's yours now, you deserve it after everything you've done and been through. *cough* Fenrir couldn't have a better master." A long coughing fit had the master's son at his side, everyone else moved closer. "Darkness is stirring Michael, you know what you must do."

"Yes, Master." Michael gave a long bow and quickly left the room. Outside the mansion in Gela, Italy. Michael tossed Fenrir into the air. It was a sword, shaped like a pin and tumbler lock key. The blade was silver, with white bandages near the bottom by the handle. The handle was a red, two grey pegs extended outward from the top of the guard, which was hexagonal in shape with five holes in the top of the hexagon and two sides were purple. Hanging on the bottom of the blade was a keychain with a wolfs head.

Fenrir spun and glowed with light. The light hit the ground with a crash, then fading revealing a vehicle. Fenrir turned into a black motorcycle. It was rather elongated, with three, dulled, golden exhaust pipes on the left side of the rear wheel.

Michael sat himself on the bike, revving it a few times. Running his hand through his hair he let out a sigh. He was on his own, he had no idea what he should be doing, where he should go. It was the loud crying coming from the open upstairs window that got him going, his master had finally passed on. "Time to get to work."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" The goblin asked the imposing figure, who was standing with his arms crossed watching the vault being emptied.

"I have specific orders." Michael reread the scroll. It told him to empty the vaults his master had set up when he started training. Take all of it and head to England. "Is it ready?"

"Yes sir." Hammertooth, the goblin tasked with emptying the vaults, handed Michael a bag. "Everything is in there."

"Good." Michael slung the strap over his head and on his left shoulder, the bag itself hung on his right side. "I'll be taking my leave." Michael exited the coliseum, back to where he parked Fenrir. "To England." It was May when he left, June when he found what he was looking for.

"Is it still there?" A red head asked another pair of reds.

"Wonder what it is?" The second asked, observing the swirling black vortex closer.

"Think we should throw Ron in?" Asked the third.

Ron backed away from the twins. Not liking their, not liking what they would call, brilliant idea.

"Come on, could be fun." Fred grabbed Ron's arm.

"Fun, yeah right." Ron tried to struggle.

"Uh I think we have a problem here." George got his brother's attention. "Well this is new." Before them were eight shadow figure with beady yellow eyes. Behind them something bigger popped into existence. It was huge, taller than them with a big belly. "Run!"

"Don't need to tell me twice!" Ron and Fred followed George, going back to the house. "Almost there!" Ron was going to make it until he tripped.

"Damn it Ron!" Fred and George stopped and tried to pick him up. The shadows kept coming closer, one of the smaller ones jumped at them. Ron pushed his brothers away, as light filled his hands and something took over. Instinct and the drive to survive.

Ron swung both his arms down, the light taking shape. In his right hand was a black key, The hilt guard is comprised of two bat-like wings extending downward. The teeth are in the shape of the kanji for darkness. The keychain's token is a black three point crown. A grey chain-like design runs up the length of the blade and a purple diamond in the hilt. In his left was a white key. Its shaft displays two hearts, and its handle bears two angel wings, contrasting the bat wings that comprise the black's handle. The teeth are fashioned in the shape of the kanji for light, corresponding to the black's kanji for darkness and the keychain's token was a yellow star.

"The hell?" Ron stared at the weapons in wonder.

"They stopped." Fred and George peered over Ron's shoulder. The small ones stopped charging, but the big one was still barreling their way.

A loud roaring was hear and something black fell from the sky and pulled up next to them. A man wearing a long black duster with the sleeves cut off, black zip-hoodie with no sleeves, red t-shirt, black jeans and black boots. "I'll take care of this." The man got off his bike, a light similar to Ron's appeared in his hands. He charged, then suddenly sped up and rushed to the other side of the garden. The large figure burst, followed by the smaller ones.

The man came back to the trio, he held up his right hand. "Sleeping Lion." Then his left. "Lionheart. These are the names for my keyblades. What are yours?" Ron looked down at his blades, utter confusion showing on his face. "It's not that hard, you know this."

"Oblivion." Ron spoke.

"The black one I'm guessing." The man vanished his blades. "And?"

"Oathkeeper." The blades vanished from Ron's hand. "How did I know that?"

"The blades give you the information you require, the problem is sorting through that information." The man pulled down his hood, revealing short buzzed brown hair, and blue eyes. "My name is Michael. My master ordered me to train you before he died." Michael held out his hand toward the bike, it vanished as well, reappearing as a keyblade in his right hand. "Fenrir, just so you know."

"What is going on out here!" A new voice entered the area.

"Your mother I assume?" The three nodded. "Lets go inside then, we have much to discuss."

"It's a little much to take in." The red haired woman set her tea down. Molly Weasley fit Michael's description for all mothers. Overly strict, wanting the best for her kids, full of love and concern for their well being.

"Yes it is. I remember my mother absolutely refusing letting me go train." Michael downed all his tea in one go.

"So what happened? You obviously managed to get to train." Molly asked.

"Oh I ran away from home to train." Michael shifted in his seat, talk of the past was a bit uncomfortable for him. "I'll say this much, Ron's curiosity will kick in and he will seek answers to the question I know without a doubt he has now. Answers, Mrs. Weasley, that will leave the burrow."

"What are you suggesting?" Mrs. Weasley.

"I'll get right to the point then ma'am." Michael stood up and moved to the window. "My master's family kicked me out, for to long they voiced their distaste for me in their home. Master Lucien was the only thing preventing my expulsion from the home. Now all I require some place to stay, perhaps nearby so Ron won't leave."

"Oh! Of course! By all means we have plenty of room." Mrs. Weasley went to the bottom of the stairs and called for her kids before returning to the kitchen. "How terrible for you to lose so much in one day. Do you know why they didn't like you?"

"They didn't really get the opportunity to kick me out actually. I had already had my things packed, but I knew they were going to kick me out. As for why they didn't like me….I don't really know." Michael scratched his chin, trying to think of some reason. "Guess they didn't like Americans."

"Yes mother." A young girl spoke. She stood next to her brothers.

"Michael, this is Ginny. You met Fred, George and Ron earlier." Molly turned her attention to her children. "Michael is going to be staying with us for awhile. Fred, George, no pranks. Ron, listen to your new teacher alright?"

"Yes ma'am." The three boys answered in unison.

"Outside," Michael moved from the window and out the door. "Now."

Ron, who was pushed out the door by his brothers and mother, quickly followed. "So, uh…."

"You know I said the exact same thing on my first day." Michael sat himself on the garden's stone wall, watching the fading sun. "Take a seat dude." Ron sat next to his new teacher. The two started talking, Michael was really listening to Ron, searching for something in his responses. "You have a strong heart Ron. You put your life on the line, for reasons that don't even concern you, just for the sake of your friends. Indeed, your light shines bright."

"What about you? How'd you summon your blades?" Ron asked.

"I was home alone, just relaxing and shit. When out of nowhere, this portal thing opens in my TV and these shadows start jumping out." Michael paused for a moment, the memory was faint, not entirely there. "The only thing I remember thinking was what these things would do to my family when they came home. I wanted to protect them at all cost. Even from a young age I wanted to protect everyone I could. I must have been ten at the time."

"Something tells me that's not entirely true." Ron looked up at the stairs, them having come out during their talk.

"Correct, I'll tell you in time. But I did have to fight. My instincts went into overdrive in that battle. Just like your instincts told you to strike earlier." Michael got off the wall and started walking back to the house. Ron quickly followed. "The key to training is to blend skill with instinct to form the perfect fighting machine. Get used to going to bed late and getting up early and sore."

"Ok!" Michael was pacing back and forth. He and Ron had just finished running and the young Weasley was panting on the ground. "First thing we'll do is some hand to hand combat, then we'll spar with our blades. After that we'll break and I'll tell you the rest then."

Michael stripped off his shirt. Ron saw what eight years of training could do. Michael was well toned, strong. He had a dragon tattoo that circled his chest twice an disappeared under his arm around the back then went over the right shoulder spiraling down with the head ending at his wrist. It ward a dark red with black underbelly. As much as his body screamed for him not to, Ron forced himself up. "Ok, take this stance." Ron stood sideways, feet equidistant apart, knees bent. His arms were held up, bent at the elbow, his right fist closed.

For the next few hours Michael kicked Ron's ass, but he called it teaching. "So what exactly am I learning?" Ron asked from his position on the ground.

"Its called CQC. And I'm teaching you this because there will be times when you will have to use it, times you can't use magic. Like you can't use magic around muggles correct?" Ron nodded. "At least now you'll be able to do something without that crappy piece of wood."

Michael pulled Ron to his feet. "Come on, draw your swords. This is where it gets fun." The keyblade Master and apprentice circled each other. Michael held Fenrir straight out toward Ron.

Ron was the first to move, charging Michael while swinging Oathkeeper. Michael parried the attack and blocked Ron's strike with Oblivion. "Right then." Michael flipped backward, putting some distance between the two. "You got some power behind those blows man. But strength alone won't cut it!" The two fought for hours, forgetting about lunch entirely.

"Enough," Ron dropped to one knee, keeping himself up only by Oblivion. "I'm tired."

"Boys, time for dinner." Molly called from the house. Vanishing their blades and putting their shirts on they made their way into the house.

"Hope your ready for magic after dinner Ron." Michael said before digging into his food. He finished quickly. "Delicious meal Mrs. Weasley. If you'll excuse me I need to prepare some things."

Outside he dug into his duster pocket, pulling out seven glass orbs. He tossed them into the air, where they glowed blue and hung there. Michael aimed his right arm at one of the orbs. "Firaga." A large fireball shoot out and destroyed the orb, the splash damage took out two more. "Good."

Ron came out into the fading light a bit later and stopped in front of Michael. "I already know magic."

"Wand please." Michael demanded. Reluctantly, Ron gave over his wand thinking Michael would just inspect it. He wasn't prepared for when Michael broke it in half. "Now then, apparently you'll have to relearn how to use all your spells without a wand. This will have the benefit of making you stronger, as well as your ministry won't be able to track your magic usage."

Ron, who was angry, calmed down quickly. Michael's reasoning was really good. "I want to see it."

"Alright." Michael raised his arm. "Thundaga." Lightning struck all around them, shattering every orb. "Now we'll just start with a simple fireball. Just aim, and say fire all the while controlling your magic in your hand. Now it'll be harder because you don't have a wand as focus point, but I know you can do this. Just practice. Remember, nothing good ever comes easy."

"Got it." Michael left his student to work, seating himself on the ground and sat against the stone wall. From his bag, which obviously had been charmed to be endless, he pulled out a book. He undid the seal on it and started reading, every now and then glancing up at his student.

Ron tried his best to not get frustrated. Trying for over an hour and the most he could get was a spark before it exploded in his face. Ron watched as Michael pulled out a cigar, lighting it with a black zippo. That gave him an idea. "The spark is the start. I stop pushing energy at the spark."

"Now you're getting it." Michael said. Ron pumped out the magic. It sparked and burned bright but he kept pushing. "Fire needs fuel to survive. Now give it that last push."

"Fire!" The fireball shot out taking out the closest orb. Michael clapped his hands as Ron started to stagger. "I did it." Ron fell backward.

"And good night." Michael waved his hand toward the orbs and they fused into one and floated to his hand. Going back to his things he sealed his book, put it back in the bag, put the orb in his coat pocket, put his coat and bag on then picked up Ron.

Inside everyone looked focused on them. "Shhh, he's had a rough day." Michael said in a whisper. He tossed Ron into his room, not caring where he landed, before going to his. He had expanded the room with magic. There was a small coffee table in the center, flanked by two couches and an ornate carpet underneath. A fireplace against the wall, above that a flat screen TV. A bookshelf against the back wall. Stairs lead to the small area where his bed is. The floor was wooden, and the walls a dark green. Another table against the wall he set his bag down on it. A quick movement of his hand and books and other objects flew out of it. "I really should have finished this yesterday.

Two suits of Roman Legion armor stood next to the fireplace. Books filled the bookshelf, vials of potions and ingredients placed themselves on the table. A guitar sat in the corner, a sword rack hung on the wall near the bottom of the stairs. "Need to make that bigger." Michael stretched out the TV more. "Just a little….there." Silencing the room he grabbed a remote off the coffee table and turned on the stereo that was on the small beside table upstairs. He worked long into the night, making potions, elixirs. Writing notes for Ron to study in his spare time.

"Hey, wake up." Michael shot up in his seat. Ron was standing over him. "You alright?"

"Yeah, just fell asleep." Michael picked up a vial of purple liquid.

"Ugh, potions." Ron spat out the word. "Hate potions."

"No one could ever hate potions." Michael stood up, drank the potion put it down, picked up another. "Take a seat." Ron sat on the couch, Michael across from him. "Tell me why you think you hate potions."

"Potions class at Hogwarts is terrible. I've always had problems with it. And Snape is a major pain. Horrible professor." Michael nodded along as Ron spoke.

"You just have a horrible teacher. Nothing I can't correct." Michael handed Ron the potion vial. "Drink it. It's good for the body, and it helps with the soreness I know without a doubt you feel." Ron eyed the potion warily and was about to object, but a glare from Michael made him drink it quickly. It didn't taste that bad, a little bitter, but not bad.

"So what brutal training do you have in mind today?" Ron asked, moving to stand in the doorway as Michael ran upstairs.

"Well we'll continue the CQC and sparring till lunch. Then we'll eat." Michael threw off his shirt and put on a black muscle shirt. "After lunch we'll take a road trip. My vehicles are coming in on a cargo ship from Italy. Maybe I'll let you drive home."

After breakfast, the Weasleys said goodbye to their father Arthur. Outside Michael transformed Fenrir into the motorcycle and summoned a new blade. "This is Chaos Reaper. This is the original keyblade I summoned all those years ago." Chaos Reaper was a large black and red keyblade. The shaft was black with a red chain design on it. The teeth were two blades on the bottom, four on the top with a blue eye with a black slit in it. The handle was red and the guard black. The keychain was dark with the eye at the end.

Michael stuck Chaos Reaper into the ground before he and Ron started their warm-ups. Push-ups, sit-ups and then their run. Ron managed way better than he thought he would, the potion really took of some of the stiffness. After CQC and Keyblade sparring they went in for lunch. Michael finished quick and took a shower. He changed into dark jeans with a white belt, his muscle shirt, his boots and his sleeveless duster coat. "Ron lets go!"

"Just sign here." Michael signed his name. Before turning to Ron. The boy was in awe. Sports bike, Choppers, sports cars. Everything looked very expensive.

"Most of them are gifts. One I bought out of my own pocket. Each of them a happy memory, and some a funny story." Michael started shrinking them and put them in his endless bag, all but one. He left out an old styled mafia era, 1935 Buick 90 Limousine. "This is one of my favorites." It was black, with ivory white interior, modern radio and wooden dash. "Get in." Michael got in the backseat. "Bullet proof siding and glass, top of the line speakers. Can get louder than a Metallica concert in here."

"Uh…." Ron stood outside hesitant.

"Gotta learn sometime right? Get in." Ron nervously got in. "Ok! Gas on the right, break on the left. Don't worry about shifting because I made this an automatic." Michael explained the process of driving. "Good luck!"

Ron, after several minutes of not doing anything, turned on the car. Michael wanted to just scream, but he knew yelling wouldn't get them anywhere. Ron went slow at first, but the effect of music took over and he started driving faster. "That was amazing." Ron got out of the limousine back at The Burrow.

"See, it's awesome. We'll work that in somewhere." Michael shrunk the car. The two went inside and sat at the table.

"How was your trip?" Ginny sat herself next to Ron. He told her all about driving home. Ginny eyed the young man wearily out of the corner of her eye. She didn't trust him. She tried to get her mother to kick him out but she wouldn't.

"Is there something wrong?" Michael spoke. "Do in intrigue you in some way?" He glared at Ginny, who turned red at being discovered.

"I don't trust you." She said blatantly.

"I'm sorry you don't, but I don't care if you trust me or not." Michael stood up. "My job is to train Ron, all that matters is if he trusts me. I'll be down when dinner is ready."

"What the hell was that Gin?" Ron was mad.

"It's the truth. Just wait until Professor Dumbledore gets here and hear what he has to say." Ron paled. He was not looking forward to that. He quickly went upstairs to warn his teacher.

"Hey mate, open up." The door swung open and Ron stepped in. "Got some news." Ron told him about the arrival of Dumbledore. "And I want to apologize for my sister being a bitch."

"Don't mention it. And don't worry about Dumbledore. From what I've heard he can be quite understanding. We just have to not lie about anything, which I wasn't going to, and I'm sure he'll approve." Ron nodded. "Now I'm sure you've got summer homework so why don't I help you with that before Professor Dumbledore arrives."

They didn't get a lot done, with the short amount of time they had. But what they did get done Ron was able to do it easily with Michael's assistance. "I swear I should do work with music more often."

"Guess you're one of those types. I myself find it keeps me focused. Training with music also adds a whole new level of intensity to it." Michael nodded one final time before handing Ron's work back. "I think its time we went downstairs."

"I think it would be a good idea." Mrs. Weasley said.

"I'll discuss it with him. After all it's his decision." Ron and Michael came downstairs. "I see this is the boy."

"I'm hardly what you would call a boy anymore, sir." Michael added the sir as if it were an afterthought. In fact it was.

"My apologies. Now I understand you've taken quite an interest in young Ronald." Dumbledore gestured for them to take a seat. "Might I inquire as to why?"

"It's the keyblades. A lot of power and no control could be dangerous." Michael nodded to Ron, who stood back up and summoned Oblivion. "There are those who are not trained and struggle more, and more than likely fall to darkness."

"That weapon looks a bit dark itself." Albus took in the sight of the blade. Ron just summoned Oathkeeper. "Two?"

"Yes, the Synch Blade ability. Allowing a person to summon more than one blade. Although possessing two right at the start is quite rare, it is not unheard of." Michael explained. "More than two can be used, but that is far more advanced. I still have yet to master it completely."

"Yes. As the saying goes, we never stop learning." Dumbledore observed Michael throughout the conversation. Michael carried himself with an aura of maturity, he always gave complete answers which were well thought out and often answered many of his questions before he could ask. The young man was calm, either because he had nothing to hide or wasn't afraid of the old wizard. Albus assumed it was both. "Now you said you posses more than one, how can one acquire multiple blades?"

"There is my original, which I summoned from the strength of my heart. The one I currently use now was my Master's. He willed it to me before he died. You can lend someone a keyblade, but it will eventually return to its master so no one can steal it. Willing it basically transfers ownership." Michael took a sip of water Mrs. Weasley brought out earlier. "But that's only half of it. The keyblade still could've rejected me and returned to the light to be summoned by someone else later. I also have two, which were given to me by my summon, who I'm sure Ron will meet later. Other blades I've received from fallen friends, and enemies. Those are some interesting stories."

"Fascinating." Albus stroked his beard. "What brought about the need for Keybearers?"

"Heartless." Ron spoke up. "Me and my brothers were attacked the other day. Several Shadows and a Large Body. If it wasn't for Michael my inexperience would've had us all killed."

"They are evil creatures. They want nothing more than to devour people's hearts, snuff out their light." Michael explained. "They are born from the darkness in people's hearts, and there is darkness within every heart." Albus saw a pained, dejected expression cross Michael's face for a second, as if some bad memory resurfaced.

"This is most interesting." Dumbledore said. "In all my years I've heard of nothing like this."

"It is a secret that is kept really well." Michael stood. "So you're lack of information isn't surprising. Ninety nine point nine percent of the world knows not of our existence, and the point one percent refuse to speak about out of fear." Michael downed the rest of the water. "We fear that may be changing. Attacks get bigger, more people involved. You can fool all of the people some of the time, but you can't fool all the people all the time."

"To true." Albus stood. "How many Keybearers are there still?"

"A lot less than I would like to have." Michael shook his head and sighed. "But our numbers have often been small. I think currently there are about five hundred in the world. Is that all Professor?"

"Not entirely." Professor Dumbledore moved toward the kitchen. "I would like to speak to you again after dinner if that would be alright?"

"Of course." Michael bowed lightly. "It'd be an honor to speak further with one of high standing such as yourself." Ron couldn't believe it. Michael handled Dumbledore and had the old wizard so intrigued he's eating out of his Master's hand. "You're wondering how I did that, correct?" Ron nodded. "It's called tact and subtlety. Sometimes you have to give people want in order to get what you want. And I gave Dumbledore exactly what he wanted."

"Dinner!" Mrs. Weasley called. Ron watched his Master throughout dinner. Michael talked with just about everyone, complementing his mother's cooking, discussed magic with Dumbledore, suggested pranks to Fred and George. Though that last one was real subtle with the use of euphemisms and metaphors no one but the three of them picked up on. Though Michael thought Dumbledore did, but he was glad the old wizard had some sense of humor.

"Delicious as always Mrs. Weasley." Michael wore a content smile.

"Thank you dear." Mrs. Weasley smiled at him. She was surprised that Michael was so polite, mature and only eighteen. She noticed he was starting to effect Ron.

"Professor, would you like to join Ron and I for Ron's magic lesson?" Michael asked. The old wizard got up and followed the two, curious. "Ok Ron, blast'em down!" Michael threw the training orb high into the air where it split apart. As the glowing orbs fell Ron shot fireballs at them.

"What happened to your wand Ronald?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Don't need it." Ron let out a sigh as five orbs floated just about his height. He only blasted two before they reached the ground. "Gaining use of a Keyblade increased my magic about a hundred fold. Only thing I require is relearning my spells."

"Don't get disgruntled Ron. You haven't master aiming yet. Honestly I was surprised you hit two." Michael lit up a cigar. "I didn't even hit one when my master did that the first time."

"Master Michael…" Michael's raised hand stopped Dumbledore.

"Just Michael please. I am strong yes, but I am far from being a Master." Michael sat himself on the stone wall.

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit." Dumbledore did believe Michael deserved the title. One doesn't get tasked to train another without being well skilled. "Michael, I believe you will be far more involved with me in the future." Confusion was expressed in Michael's features. "Evil lurks in this country. As you said heartless are born of darkness. We'll need a bit more light on our side."

"What are you purposing?" Michael exhaled smoke from his nostrils.

"I'm offering you a position at Hogwarts. That way when Ron returns you can continue to train him. Plus earn quite a considerable pay." Dumbledore knew what Michael's response would be, but he knew there was nothing like the incentive of money to insure a favorable response.

"Deal." Michael answered quickly and took a long drag.

"Anything you'll need specifically you can mail to me and I'll go over it." Dumbledore repressed at Michael's enthusiastic answer, happy that he didn't lose his entire childish innocence.

"What I need right now is a celebratory drink." The young warrior put out his cigar, it being reduce to a stub. "Can you approve that?" Dumbledore smiled and the two walked back to the house and the two drank. "To Hogwarts!" They toasted. Dumbledore, who stopped after two drinks, watched as Michael drank himself into oblivion.

"Ronald." Dumbledore's call stopped Ron from training. "I think that's enough today. Seems your instructor had a few to many." Ron watched Michael slump against the table more than a little sloshed.

"Eh right, hehe." Ron fused the training orbs with a wave of his hands and levitated it to his hand. "At least he isn't to serious."

"I was just thinking that same thing Ronald." Albus smiled at the two. "A shame when one grows up too fast. Glad to know he can handle pressure well." The two took Michael to his room, Dumbledore marveled at it. The small potions station had top of the line equipment, the suits of armor he thought was a nice touch. "Nice model cars on the mantle."

"Those aren't models, they're real just shrunk down for easier transport." Ron started carrying the drunk young man up the stairs. Dumbledore raised an eye brow. More intrigued by the young warrior. He went over to the bookshelf. He found William Shakespeare, J. R. R. Tolkien, Edgar Allen Poe and a few other famous authors. Though some of the books made him curious as they were bound in chains.

"Can you, perchance, explain this?" Albus held up an chained book.

"Oh, he sealed it. Making sure no one who is not supposed to possess it could get it open." Ron came back downstairs. "I think it's keyed to his magical signature, which is impossible to duplicate."

"You've learned so much in such a short amount of time. That young man is truly remarkable." Dumbledore pulled out two sheets of paper. "Ronald, I was wondering if you could sign this?"

"What is it?" Dumbledore place the other sheet on the coffee table.

"It's a contract. Michael will have several duties once he arrives at Hogwarts." Dumbledore started toward the door. "And if for some reason he appoints you his assistant, it guarantees payment for your cooperation and services." As the old wizard exited he heard the sound of quill to paper.

"Ow, my head." Michael stumbled down the stairs as he made his way to the potion station. He quickly whipped up a potion and downed the bright blue liquid quickly. "Ah Hangover Drink, by far the greatest potion discovery ever."

Halfway through the summer Ron had mastered Fire and moved onto Fira as well the basics of Blizzard and Thunder and his other school spells. The CQC spars went for longer, as did the Keyblade spars. Ron started using one keyblade, just because. He almost always uses two but as Michael said. "Better to know it and not need it, than need it and not know it." Michael also introduced fake Heartless. "Basically they are empty shells that act like real Heartless. This way you can understand their tactics and have some knowledge on what to do when you encounter the real deal." These fake Heartless allowed Michael to join in. The two Keybearers started to develop a special style, where if one was duel wielding and the other wasn't, they'd toss a Keyblade back and forth to each other. At this stage it was very sloppy and needed a ton of work.

"Time to summon!" Michael yelled after their warm-up. He had the Lion Keyblades stuck into the ground, about four feet between them. A green light formed in his right hand as he slammed it into the ground. An intricate pattern spread out on the ground as Michael placed himself between the blades. There was a loud, lion like roaring as a figure slowly faded into existence.

The man had long, brown hair, black gloves, black shoes each with a zipper lining it, silver Lion head necklace and white shirt and his short sleeved black jacket with a white fur collar. The jacket bears red wings on the back, and has a red lion head symbol on each shoulder. He wears three brown belts on his left and right forearm and has three black buckles on his right thigh and left thigh. His black pants also sport a vertical zipper going down the side of each leg, two brown belts and two black ones around his hips, all of which are quite loose except for one, a black one worn properly around his waist. His eyes are blue and he has a distinctive scar, which runs diagonally across the bridge of his nose. His weapon was a hybrid gun and sword. A long grey blade with a revolver handle. The blade had the man's signature lion head on it, the lion head also on the end of a keychain. "Ron, meet Squall Leonhart." Squall looked about twenty four, but something about him made him seem way older.

"Whose the brat?" Squall asked, very blunt showing his uncaring attitude.

"Ignore his attitude, I usually do." Michael cast a glare at Squall. "Anyway, I sometimes summon him into battle, or spar. He is also the one who gave me the lion keyblades. Now this brings us to getting you a summon. I have several stone here are all locked. Now you some are able to be used by anyone, but they're usually weak and I have none of those with me. You need to find one that recognizes your strength, one that is willing to grow with you." Michael laid out the stones. "Run your hand over them, see which reacts."

Ron did as instructed, placing his hand over each of the ten stones. "Nothing." Michael clapped his hands and a white portal opened.

"Step through please." The three went into the portal, which brought them to a dark place. It was a beach, a light was low in the sky almost touching the horizon, the sand was black, dark water washed the shore and strange coral jutting out everywhere. "Welcome to the Dark Meridian. The place between Darkness and Light."

"Humph, this is where you got me isn't it?" Squall place his gun blade on his back.

"Oh shut up you." Michael cleared his throat. "Sometimes when someone has a strong enough heart they can save themselves from darkness. But they have no control over where they end up, most end up here. There could even be previous keyblade wielders here. Find a stone. I'll be back in an hour." Michael and Squall stepped through the portal, leaving Ron.

"Been all over this damn beach and didn't find a single freakin' thing." That's another thing Ron picked up from Michael, he was cursing more. Ron let out a sigh as he saw the portal opening. "Better…hey wait a minute." A faint red glow in the water caught his eye. He dove and grabbed it before coming ashore. Michael watched as the red light got brighter. Ron's instinct took over. He squeezed the light, the stone cracked. He tossed it in front of him and it hovered there. He stuck Oblivion into it and turned it before lifting the blade up. A dark cloud exited the light, it produced a new figure. "Who're you?"

"Vincent. Vincent Valentine." Vincent is a man physically in his late 20s, and stands roughly six feet tall. He has crimson eyes and long black hair that streams about a bit wildly at times. He wears a red band over his head with his bangs emerging over it. Vincent's most distinctive feature is his tattered red cape, held in place over his shoulders and lower face by several buckles. Underneath his cape, Vincent's attire is black with several straps and buckles. Vincent wears a holster for his gun against his right leg, and pointed metallic boots. He also wears a golden gauntlet on his left arm. His weapon of choice is the Cerberus, it is a triple-barreled, tripled-chambered revolver, ornamented with scrollwork patterns, a small dog's head in place of the iron sights on each barrel, and a silver chain in the shape of a three-headed dog with a wing hanging from the end of the grip with a brown wooden handle and golden hammer.

Michael said only one word. "Awesome."

"Here, take this." Vincent handed Ron a keychain. It turned into a new blade. It was small, the teeth were a pair of dragon like jaws. The shaft was black with a tribal arrow pointing up from the hilt. The handle was black and the guard was dark grayish blue with three notches on each side and the bottom of the guard angles out with the same three notches. The keychain was short, only three black chain links and the token was a small blue stone with two spikes on either side, one spike out the bottom and two spikes on top extending past the first pair.

"Amazing." Ron looked at his new sword with awe. Then he caught Michael's 'well-what-the-hell-is-it' look. "Dark Biter."

A 1965 Camaro pulled up outside the Leaky Cauldron. It was a bright white with two dark red racing strips down the top, the rims were red and so was the interior. Two males exited the car. One had on a sleeveless duster button only in the chest revealing dark blue jeans, white studded belt and black combat boots. He seemed unaffected by the rain.

The other male had khaki pants, a horrendous sweater with the letter R on it and brown shoes. The other male considered this a problem and the two set off to fix it. "I just need to do a little banking, then we're off." Inside Diagon Alley Michael went to Gringotts. "Wait here."

He waited for a half hour, Michael would be back in about…"Well, well, well what do we have here? Poor Weasel begging outside a bank?" Ron groaned loudly and punched one of Gringotts' columns. He didn't not want to deal with this right now. So he handled it they way his master would.

"Fuck off Malfoy." Ron cursed loudly, trying to get anyone nearby's attention.

"My, use that language around your mother?" A man stood next to Draco's group, which consisted of Crabb, Goyle, Theo Nott and Pansy Parkinson. "But I guess the poor always have bad manners.

"You better watch it before I decide to kick your ass all the way up the alley and back." Ron growled.

"Tough talk Weasel." Ron noticed Nott, Crabb and Goyle and him. Crabb in front, Nott on the left, Goyle on the right. Ron turned his head, cracking it, then turned it the other way to get another loud crack. Nott moved in first and tried to hold Ron, who grabbed Nott's wrist and pulled the boy closer. With his right hand Ron pulled Theo into his knee, then head butted him. He was moving quickly, Crabb was moving in. A strong punch to the face knocked him down.

Crabb was next, trying to tackle Ron. The young keyblade warrior turned to the right and Crabb missed, but Ron punched him in the gut with his right hand, then brought his right up and backhanded Crabb.

The big guy was next. He stepped up to punch Ron, but he spun left into Goyle and elbowed him in the face. Ron went around Goyle's left side and kick the back of his knee. Ron put his right leg between Goyle's right arm and back of his head. Ron bent the arm back over his leg, effectively breaking it with a loud crack. Ron stripped off his sweater after finishing Goyle by dropping his elbow down on the face. He faced the two Malfoys and Parkinson. He tossed his sweater behind him. He looked intimidating, newly formed muscles, the rain crashing over him.

Ron stood there, in just his white muscle shirt in the rain, breathing heavily. 'This is what Michael was talking about. Adrenalin, instinct, technique all fused into one fighting machine. Feels great.' Ron knew what he did was far from perfect, but he was happy with it. "Who's tough now?"

Lucius raised his wand. A faint yellow at the tip. A white bolt to the chest knocked Lucius through the big display window of one of the stores. "Tsk tsk. For shame. Attacking someone in public, even going so far as attempt to use magic on an unarmed person." Lucius slowly crawled out of the window. Michael surveyed the damage. "Not bad."

"Look out!" Ron stepped around Michael and raised his fist which brought up a shield. Lucius' spell bounced off the shield and knocked him down the alley.

"Protego wasn't it?" Ron nodded. "Nice. I think we're done here, but first." Michael took three light green vials out of his duster's inside pocket and dumped the contents on each other the unconscious boys.

As Ron passed Draco and Pansy he pointed with his right index and middle fingers and bent his thumb, keeping the other fingers closed. Then he winked. "Catch ya later."

"That was so fucking epic!" Michael yelled from the passenger's seat when the two made it to the car. "Man you pick up on things fast Ron. The way you just moved, so seamless, effortless! Oh god that was fucking awesome!" Michael patted Ron on the back. "Fuckin' A dude! You are a natural born fighter!"

"What can I say?" Ron shrugged before turning on the car. "Now where?"

Ron looked at his reflection. He now was wearing a dark orange t-shirt, black jeans, black steel-toed boots with the steel on the outside, a dark red belt with brass knuckle belt buckle. He wore a duster coat like Michael but kept the sleeves.

The duo were in Michael's room upstairs. The area had enough room for a bed pushed against the wall, with enough room for three people to be standing shoulder to shoulder from the bed to the guard railing. A dresser was against the wall to the bed's right with tall mirror hung on the wall on the bed's left. There was a door leading to a bathroom on the other wall. "So?" Ron asked.

"I'm fucking brilliant." Was all Michael said.

"Ron, your not training today." Ron stopped eating. "You get the day off." Ron didn't even make it halfway through the morning before he burst into his master's room bored.

"Even Vincent refused to spar with me! He loves shooting at me!" Ron fell backward over the arm of the couch and side.

Michael sighed and place the test-tube in the test-tube holder. He was wearing a white lab coat and big green gloves that go up to his elbows and a pair of goggles. "See that?" Michael pointed to the corner. Ron nodded. "Take it, go upstairs, and learn to play it." Ron grabbed the ESP Alexi Sawtooth guitar. It was two-tone white and red. The inside being white, edges red. The neck was black with silver Xs evenly spaced out on the neck. When Ron was upstairs Michael cast Silencio as to not be disturbed. By the end of the day Ron had a basic understanding of the instrument. Now he had something to do when Michael gave him days off.

Ginny glared at Michael from across the table. He hadn't looked up from his book in twenty minutes so she thought she was safe. Ron kept mouthing that he'll smack her upside the head if she kept doing it. "Your face will freeze like that naturally if you keep doing that." Michael spoke up.

Ginny sat there with here mouth open. He hadn't even been looking and he knew the whole time. Ron, Fred and George were laughing at her, Michael was chuckling lightly. "Ron! Hermione and Harry are here!" Michael slammed the book closed and lightly placed it on the table. He glared at all four of them.

"Tell no one about our abilities. They are to be kept secret as long as possible." Michael lowered the temperature of the room to give his words more effect. Ron wasn't fazed. Michael often lowered the temperature for an added intimidation effect. It worked to. Ron wished he had did it that day in Diagon Alley when he thought back on it.

"Harry!" Hermione gave her friend a hug. She meet up with him outside The Burrow. "How was your summer so far?"

"Horrible. But you know, the usual stuff happened so same as every year." Harry knocked on the door. They heard Mrs. Weasley call to Ron. "She's probably waking him up." Hermione was about to comment when the door opened. Ron stood there, he looked different and wearing muggle clothing. A white t-shirt and dark blue baggy jeans that hung a little low showing grey boxers and black socks.

"Hey you guys." He and Hermione hugged briefly. "How was summer?" Ron pulled Harry into what Michael showed him as a bro-hug. The trio went inside as Mrs. Weasley came downstairs. She greeted them and rushed them all into the kitchen.

"Fuck." Michael said under his breath. He had forgotten about them coming. 'There goes the day.' He thought. 'Well maybe not the entire day.'

"Harry, Hermione. This is Michael, Ron's friend. He'll also be working at Hogwarts." Michael nodded a greeting. "Would you like anything to eat dears."

Harry and Hermione sat down after asking for food. They were about to question Ron about Michael when the object of their curiosity got up. "Ron, CQC, outside, now."

Ron got up from the table. Hermione grabbed his wrist. "What about breakfast?"

"Already ate." In Hermione's shock he broke out of her grip and exited the kitchen. The twins moved to the window.

"Think they're going to skip warm-up and get right to fighting?" Fred asked.

"They only did that a few times so I wouldn't bet on it." George responded. "Who you think will win this time?"

"Boys! Get back to the table." Their mother ordered. "And Michael's told you several time, you can't win a spar."

Ron ducked under a high spinning kick. Michael back flipped over Ron's follow up leg sweep. Michael grabbed Ron's arm when he punched, put his legs around the Ron's neck and twisted, pulling Ron to the ground. "You tapping?" Ron, who couldn't answer because his face was in the ground, tapped Michael's leg.

"Damn." After standing Ron rubbed his left shoulder and rotated it.

"Dude I made you eat grass." Michael laughed.

"That was a good move." The two bumped fists. "So now what? We can't use our Keyblades, my homework is done."

"Just chill man, a nice break would be good." Michael produce a cigar. "You can go inside, better face the chopping block now and get it over with."

Ron's response was a grunt and he went into the house. "Harry did you see that?" Harry's mouth hung open. The spar caught their attention halfway through their meal.

"Where did he meet this guy?" Harry asked. He was concerned when Ron would barely write, and it seemed he was holding back information. "I mean seriously, that isn't normal."

"What is normal for wizards?" Ron reentered the kitchen. "I met this guy in Diagon Alley. He was being hassled by Malfoy and his stupid gang of apes. He completely smashed them." Ron patted himself on the back for a good lie.

"How old is he?" Hermione asked.

"He's eighteen." Ron answered. Mrs. Weasley placed a glass of juice in front of Ron. "Thanks mum." Ron slowly drank as he either answered or avoided questions.

"So he doesn't like Malfoy either huh?" Harry had a smirk.

"Well if he didn't he does now." Ron remembered what Michael told him while they're were shopping after Ron's fight at Diagon Alley. 'If those guys give you trouble just break their freakin necks.'

"Where's he from? Harry asked.

"Buffalo. It's in the States." Ron answered. Thanking Merlin he went over this with Michael before hand.

Hermione snorted. "Well that explains a lot." Hermione missed Ron's glare as she was distracted by the door opened. Michael stood in the door way, dropped the cigar down and stomped on it and exhaled a long cloud a smoke.

"Harry and Hermione right?" He would've been right, had he not pointed to the wrong people. Ron slapped his forehead, muttering something along the lines of 'oh-my-god.'

"Well this is a good start." Ginny said as she left the table.

"So what are we walking all the way out here for? I mean serious I could've driven there by now." Michael asked Arthur.

"Don't worry, we're almost there." In a few minutes they were all standing around…

"Is that a boot?" Ron asked.

"Get the man a prize! He is correct." Michael smacked Ron on the back. "Way to state the obvious dude."

"Hello there!" Someone called.

"Isn't that Cedric Diggory from school?" Ron asked Harry.

"Yeah, guess that's his father." Harry responded. They five young men, Fred, George, Harry, Ron and Michael, sighed as the watched Hermione and Ginny swoon over Cedric. "Women huh?"

"Yeah." Everyone nodded in agreement.

"And this must be Harry?" Mr. Diggory came over and shook the scarred boy's hand. "Nice to meet you. Heard you lost to my boy here in Quidditch last year."

"Dad, I told you. Dementors attacked the pitch." Cedric said, trying to apologize for his father.

"Yeah Harry told me about that. Horrible what happened, Gryffindor would've won for sure." Michael gave a thumbs up to Harry. "You know, Harry being the better seeker and all."

"And who is this? Dear Merlin Arthur, you didn't have another one did you?" Mr. Diggory stepped closer to Michael. "This one is trouble, doesn't respect anyone."

"Yeah well, I believe respect has to be earned." Michael was ready to blast this man into the next country if he didn't back off.

"Why don't we just go?" Arthur decided it was best to move on before the violence escalates.

"You're friend is a strange one." Cedric said to Harry and Ron. They just grunted and grabbed onto the boot.

"Feels like I just got a boot to the head." Michael shook off the dizziness of going through a port key.

"You have got to teach me how to portal." Ron, who had gotten up, fell back down.

"World Cup in Italy was nothing like this." Michael commented on the chaos going on. The group had long since set up their tent. He was about to speak when an odd sensation took over, Ron looked up toward the door.

"Feel that?" Ron asked

Michael himself shivered "There's Veela around here. Lets introduce ourselves." Michael and Ron were about to exit the tent when Hermione appeared in front of them.

"Oh no you don't." Michael just snapped his fingers in her face and she collapsed. Ron told Harry that Hermione had fallen asleep, and put her in a chair. Harry just yelled back an ok.

"Ok where are they?" Michael and Ron were heading toward the pitch.

"Hey can I ask you something?" Michael's thumbs up was the go ahead to ask. "How could we sense them all the way from our tent, and why aren't we going crazy?"

"Very good questions Ron. First one is our enhanced senses. This is attributed to the Keyblades again." Michael's pace quickened, he knew where they were. "As for why we aren't effected by them is because…well I….ok so I don't have an exact answer to that question. I just like to think I have better self control than others. Don't get me wrong, I want to see them, I just won't go to extreme lengths to impress them."

The Veela were standing in the pitch near the entryway, their practice for the evening's game ended about five minutes ago so they were just talking. When a loud crash and a red headed boy fell right in front of him. He was bare chested and well toned, but not as well as the other man walked up next to him. "Seems we have an audience now."

Ron picked himself off the ground. "Ladies." He gave them a wink.

"I would like to apologize. We weren't interrupting anything I hope?" Michael said.

The Keyblade duo heard whispers. "There's something wrong with them." and "They're not reacting."

"Yes. The Veela charm is useless against us." One of the Veela stepped forward. She had tan skin, long ebony hair and blue eyes and appeared to be twenty four. The sight almost made Michael drop to his knees.

"So what brings you here?" She said with an Italian accent.

'Oh I like.' "Just training. Nothing special." Michael said in perfect Italian. The woman grabbed Michael by the arm and walked to the side to talk privately.

Ron was turning red. The Veela were giggling behind him. He remembered something Michael said. 'Either man up or shut up and get the fuck out!' He got his blushing under control and turned to face the beautiful woman. "Hey."

To the Veela he came off as not interested, which got them riled up. "What's your name?" One asked.

"Ronald. Ronald Weasley." He was surprised how deep his voice sounded, but he chalked it up to the moment and him wanting to sound more mature. He glanced to his master, he was still talking to the woman. The two were standing really close to each other. "And how are you lovely ladies doing this fine day?"

Some smiled, others looked over him. One grew bold, deciding to stake a claim. "Hello Ronald." The young Weasley gave her all his attention. "My name is Arianna." She was a little taller than him, probably about twenty years old. She had short dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes.

"What a lovely name." Ron gulped, apparently loudly as Arianna giggled at him.

"I think this guy needs to have a life experience." Michael said as he walked by, his left arm around the woman's waist his right held her hands. "Later Ron." Arianna took Ron by the hand and smiled at him.

Ron and Michael were outside the pitch, the group of Veela waving at them. The duo waved back before the ladies reentered to get ready for the match. "I want one." Ron said to Michael.

"No." Was the American's response.

The two walked back to the tent. "You are the best teacher ever." Ron declared.

"I am pretty awesome aren't I?" Michael held the tent flap open for Ron before going inside. "So what was her name?"

"Arianna." Ron was in a daze. "And you?"

"Celia." Michael lit a cigar.

"Great match." Ginny said as the group entered the tent. Everyone was talking about it, plays, saves, the Veela cheerleaders. Though Ron and Michael had talked as if they had personal experience. Hermione shook her head, no way that would happen.

"Ron, there's someone here to see you." Mr. Weasley opened the tent. A beautiful girl walked in.

"Arianna? What's up?" Ron stood up.

"Just here to see if you want to go to a celebratory party." Arianna smiled. "Celia also wished for your presence Michael."

"Who am I to deny such a lovely lady?" Michael exited the tent. Ron, blushing with a bit of embarrassment, left with Arianna.

Fred, snapping out of his stupor, was the first to speak. "What the bloody hell just happened?"

Michael was 'busy' with Celia, after explaining why it would 'never' work. She understood, she was planning on doing the same thing. Turns out she's engaged. Ron in the meantime found himself locked in a room, only to emerge half hour later without a shirt. It was one hell of party.

But like all good things it came to an end. With people running and screaming. Michael and Ron ran outside the Veela tent, finding people in masks walking around. Dark Balls floated next to them and a strange formation forming in the sky. "Heartless!" Michael growled and drew Fenrir. Ron had Oblivion and Oathkeeper and the two charged into battle.

"Where's Ron!" Hermione Yelled.

"Don't worry, he'll be fine." George answered. They heard the screaming and ran like everybody else.

Michael kicked a masked man in the chest, knocking the man back. He dodged a green light and sunk his blade into another man's chest. A Dark Ball appeared behind him and he cut it down with a slash. Another green light came and he shot a bolt out of his Keyblade, the attacks cancelled each other out. "What?"

"You know not our capabilities." A bright light covered Fenrir making the blade longer and he cut the masked man's arms off and stabbed him in the stomach. Michael raised Fenrir up, shooting a beam of light at the mark. In vanished, but in it's place was an outline of a keyhole. "Whoops, can't have that appear yet." Michael hid the keyhole. "Can't go having the worlds connecting when they're not ready."

Ron stepped on a Dark Ball and into the air, cutting down four more before landing on the ground. His keyblades in a reverse grip he stabbed behind him and into another dark ball. He took in his surroundings, Auroras were moving around taking out the masked men but they just apparated away. Gazing up he saw the mark replaced by a keyhole and Oblivion tried forcing itself up.

"Are you all alright?" Arthur asked the kids after the Auroras left them alone after thinking they cast the mark.

"Yes, but what about Ron and Michael?" Harry asked.

"We're fine." Ron said. His and Michael's face were covered with blood. "More importantly what about you?" The group reentered their tent, surprised that it wasn't destroyed.

"Well this completely ruined my evening." Michael said before he went to bed.

Ron had his trunk packed. Today was they day, returning to Hogwarts. "Got everything?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. You?" Ron looked over at Harry's trunk.

"Yeah I got it all." Ron was about to leave when Harry grabbed his shoulder. "Hey mate can we talk?"

"Yeah sure." Ron sat on his trunk. "What's on your mind?"

"Are you sure you're alright? I mean the attack at the World Cup was pretty intense. And it was just the two of you." Ron chuckled.

"Don't worry mate. If I wasn't alright I would have said something." Ron grabbed his trunk. "Don't you know me by now?"

"I do know you." Harry grabbed his trunk as well. "That's why I'm worried."

The platform was overly crowded. Michael watched young students cry and cling to their parents. "Fucking noobs." Michael stomped on the butt of his cigar and shifted his position on his motorcycle, Fenrir. Finally the Weasleys came through the barrier. "About time."

"Sorry. Sister and Hermione took forever to get ready." Ron and Michael bumped fits. "You know how it goes."

"Indeed, I do. Anyway I'll be taking my leave. See you at Hogwarts." Michael revved Fenrir, scaring the little kids and capturing everyone's attention. "Peace!" Michael drove the bike off the platform and onto the track, taking off down the train's path.

"That man, so barbaric." Hermione muttered as they made their way down the train trying to find a compartment.

A compartment they passed opened. "Hey guys." The trio, and Ginny, turned around. "Over here."

"Hey Neville." The group entered. "You excited to be going back?"

"Yeah. Can't wait." Neville turned to Ron. "Hey, anymore incidents in Diagon Alley?"

"You were there?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, it was so wicked the way you handled Malfoy's goons." Ron could feel the stares from his two friends. "They didn't know about that did they?"

"Ron!" Hermione glared. "Explain."

"Ok it's pretty straight forward. I got into a fight with Nott, Crabb and Goyle." Ron smiled at the memory.

"You should've seen the way he knocked them out and stare down Draco and his father." Neville talked about the fight, the compartment door opening stopped him right at the part where Michael intervened.

"Well if it isn't the losers." Malfoy chided.

"My how easily you forget the past Draco." Ron stood up, shrugging off his duster. "We are in no mood for you right now. So I suggest you leave." Crabb and Goyle ran the minute Ron stood up. Ron stepped out of the compartment and closed the door. 'Note to self, learn locking spell.'

Pansy stared right up at Ron, he was towering over her. She took in his appearance, he was more defined than last time. She looked into his eyes and saw nothing but rage. She thanked every deity she thought because that anger was directed at Draco. "I'll just be going then." She ran back down the train.

Draco went for his wand, but Ron's hand around his throat had him pinned to the wall. Inside the four watched the scene unfold, though they could only see silhouettes. "Get out of my sight." Ron dropped Draco, the blonde Slytherin quickly moved away.

"Well done Ron." Harry nodded approvingly.

"I was hoping you'd at least punch him in the throat." Ginny pouted, disappointed. Hermione shook her head. This was not how she expected Ron to act.

"Greetings everyone!" Albus' voice silenced the hall. I'd like to welcome your all to another year here at Hogwarts. Now…" Ron blocked out Dumbledore, focusing more on the dark figure lounging with his feet up on the staff table, his hood was up so no one could see his face and a cigar was slowly burning in his mouth. "Now another new addition to our staff, please welcome Professor Michael." The students started applauding, but Michael didn't get up. He was sleeping.

He jolted awake when the teacher next to him. Everyone laughed when he fell out of the chair. "Fucking hell." He cursed loudly. "What?"

"Nothing, you may sit back down." Michael's response to Albus was a grunt and he sat down before removing his hood. "Now I would like to inform you all of a special event, taking place here this year." Michael smirked as everyone started murmuring the possibilities.

'Children are so impatient.' Michael thought.

"The Tri Wizard Tournament!" Albus cheered. "Representatives from two school, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, will be arriving here next week to compete in the tournament."

"Oh this'll be fun." Ron smirked.

"Fuckin' A." Michael chuckled.