Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would've made sure that Peeves and the Hogwarts kitchens made it into the movies.

Author's Note: I really hope you guys enjoy this story. Just a fun little one-shot, although, if you do want me to continue it, don't hesitate to ask. I may just do it. Btw, would you all like me to do a shuffle challenge? Put the answer in the review. Speaking of which, please review. It really makes me happy! :) Alright, peace out, peeps!

Grammar School Challenge - Round 6 - IWSC

Mahoutokoro, Year 2

Word count: 990 (again, literally the limit)

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"I tried to tell you!" Albus Potter said angrily as he and his brother, James, cleaned the trophies in the trophy room. "I knew it was a bad idea!"

"Just shut up, will you?" James replied irritatedly. "I know it was a stupid idea now. Let's just hurry up and finish cleaning these things."

Albus sighed. "Fine. Y'know, I'm pretty sure that Filch is making these really dirty on purpose. I mean, Lysander told me that him and Lorcan got detention a couple of weeks ago and had to clean these. They can't have gotten this dirty that quickly," he finished, scrubbing the front of a metal cup with a rag. He scrubbed it so ferociously that his elbow knocked into another shelf, sending a dozen trophies skidding across the floor.

"Damn!" Albus swore, bending down to gather up the trophies. However, seeing the name on one of them, all but that one proceeded to fall out of his arms and onto the floor again.

"Ugh, seriously, Al," James groaned, looking away from the plaque he was cleaning and towards his brother. "You gotta stop being so clumsy."

"James," Al began slowly, turning the trophy over in his hands, "look at this."

"What is it?" James asked, in a rather bored tone.

"It's an award. Wait," Albus gasped, bending down to pick up another of the fallen trophies. "This one too."

"They're all awards, Al," James pointed out. "What's so special about them?"

"This one's for Dad," Albus began, lowering his voice since Filch was just outside the door, "and this one's for Uncle Ron."

"What?" James said, walking over to his brother, now interested. "What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean, dummy?" Al asked impatiently. "That our dad and uncle both have awards for best hairdo?" James rolled his eyes as he looked at the awards in his brother's hands. They were indeed for his father and uncle, both awards for special services to the school in 1993.

"Let's see," James said, "1993. Dad was born in 1980 so this would be in Dad's third year."

"Second," Albus corrected. "Awards are given out at the end of the school year."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," replied James, rolling his eyes again. "So, what do they say?"

"They say, Award for Special Services to the School of Hogwarts - Rewarded for the discovery of the Chamber of Secrets, the defeat of its inhabitant, and the defeat of Tom Riddle," Albus read.

"Wait a second," James said, "did you say Tom Riddle?"

"Yeah, why?" Albus asked curiously.

"Look." James pulled a trophy down from another shelf and showed it to Al. "It's another award for services to the school, but it's fifty years before Dad's, and it's awarded to Tom Riddle." James and Albus exchanged intrigued looks.

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Three weeks later, once the Christmas holidays came around, James and Albus, along with their cousins, went home to their families. They had forgotten about the trophies and what they had read, but, after overhearing their parents mention the name "Riddle" during a private conversation, they remembered.

The day after hearing this, James and Albus decided to confront their father.

"Dad?" James asked, walking into the kitchen that morning, with Albus right behind him.

"Morning, boys. What's up?" Harry asked, giving them a quick smile, before turning back to continue flipping pancakes for breakfast.

"Who was Tom Riddle?" James asked, without hesitation. Harry was so shocked at hearing the name coming from his son's mouth that he dropped a pancake and swore under his breath. He stood there quietly for another moment, wondering how to proceed with his sons.

"Where - where did you hear that name?" Harry asked hesitantly, still facing the stove.

"We first heard - well - saw the name when we were cleaning trophies for detention one night. We saw that you and Uncle Ron had trophies for defeating him in your second year and that he had his own trophy for defeating some sort of monster," Al replied.

"Yeah," James added, "and then we heard you and Mum mention him last night which reminded us of it." Harry took a deep breath and turned around to face his sons, ignoring the smell of burning pancakes.

"Look," he began, "I - I'll tell you, you are old enough after all, but you have to promise me something." Both boys nodded. "You cannot mention this to your mother."

"Why not?" Al asked.

"Because - because of what I'll tell you." The boys nodded again, this time a little hesitantly.

"Okay, sit down," Harry said, gesturing to the table. Al and James sat down, as did Harry, who sighed.

"Tom Riddle was - well - Tom Riddle became Voldemort." Both James and Al gasped.

"But - but then why does he have an award for services to the school?" Al managed to say.

"He was credited with the avenging of a girl who had been murdered by a monster. Riddle was actually the owner and controller of the monster, but he framed Hagrid. He's the reason Hagrid was expelled. Everyone thought Hagrid had bred the monster which had killed the girl, even though it was actually Riddle."

"Hagrid?" James muttered, aghast.

"And - and the awards that you and Uncle Ron have for defeating him?" Al added.

"Well, he - er - came back and started hurting people again. Mind you, Ron and I might've gotten those awards, but we never would've figured it out without your Aunt Hermione.

"And why can't we tell Mum?" James inquired.

"Let's just say," Harry began, a clouded look entering his eyes, "that that year wasn't the best year for your mum." Al and James nodded. Harry smiled at them and stood up, returning to the stove to make more pancakes. A few minutes later, Lily came downstairs, bouncing up and down because she smelled the pancakes. Ginny followed and, forgetting about the previous conversations, the family had a very enjoyable breakfast full of laughter and smiles.