Chapter 1

"Stupefy!"

The shout that came from Harry's left was panicked and sounded unnaturally high coming from a male.

'Good,' Harry thought, 'he's an amateur.' The fact that the red curse looked feeble and was a good fifteen-feet off target confirmed as much. 'This should be easy, but I better be on guard just in case.'

For the fifth time in just under two hours, Harry was engaged in a skirmish near Hagrid's Hut. His decision to keep away from the main fighting near the castle's entrance was sound in theory but it had proven to be a blunder. He had given away too much ground and was finding it hard to fight his way back because he was so exposed.

'Next time I'll have to try and find a position with more cover,' Harry told himself.

Taking temporary cover in some bushes near the fringes of the Forbidden Forest, Harry took stock of the situation. He needed to make a dash for the Entrance Hall, but it was simply too far away to cover the distance out in the open. He'd be picked off within a minute if any half-competent spell-caster was nearby. 'I guess I don't have a choice but to take it slow.' Harry thought. 'I'll head towards the greenhouses; they are just as far from the Entrance Hall as Hargrid's Hut but there are far more things to hide behind.'

With a serviceable, if somewhat makeshift, strategy in place, Harry turned his attention to trying to escape his current predicament. He knew there was at least one opponent somewhere to his right near Hagrid's pumpkin patch. Whoever it was wasn't much of a threat because their aim was terrible. Even so, it would be risky to attack their position head-on. Even inept wizards can get lucky. The direct route to the greenhouses was a complete unknown though and thus far riskier. There could be any number of enemies laying in the shallow ditches that were scattered over the field. 'No, that won't do,' Harry thought bitterly. 'The fact that Mr No-Aim is still over there firing off hexes after two hours would suggest that there is no one else in the vicinity. If there was, surely he would have been taken out by now. Right?'

Armed with his wand and the idea that if he ran fast enough his enemy would have no hope of hitting him, Harry emerged from behind the bushes and moved towards the pumpkin patch. He covered almost thirty feet before a single hex was fired. Evidently, his opponent wasn't paying close attention to his movements. The gap closed quickly. 'Thirty-five feet, twenty feet, fifteen feet,' Harry thought, his excitement rising. A string of three hexes, a stunner and two minor bludgeoning spells judging from the colours of them, came at Harry from behind a ridiculously large pumpkin. True to form, they were all off target, although not so far off target that Harry felt completely comfortable with his plan. Realising that coming from either side of the pumpkin was too risky, Harry concluded that his only option was to vault the gigantic vegetable and attack his foe from above. 'Careful now, get your timing right,' he warned himself. It only took four more strides to reach the pumpkin. Harry aimed his wand carefully, placed one foot on the pumpkin and launched himself into the air. "Stupefy," he cried and looked on with satisfaction as his opponent fell to the ground. Harry did not slow down to further admire his handiwork but instead looped behind Hagrid's Hut and headed off towards the greenhouses. 'This is going to be tough,' Harry thought, still exhilirated by his victory, no matter how small and insignificant it was. 'A win is a win.'

The afternoon sun was still shining brightly and it made Harry's job of identifying hazards significantly easier than it would have been if it was overcast or dark. Judging from what he could see, the whole area appeared to have been deserted. 'Everyone must have been defeated or already made it to the Entrance Hall.' The thirty-second run to the rear of Greenhouse Five was uneventful apart from the odd flash of spellfire in the distance. He pushed himself up against the glass of the greenhouse and took some time to gather his breath. 'Okay, what now Potter?' it was annoying how his inner voice took on Malfoy-like characteristics when he was being critical of himself. 'So,between here and the doors to Hogwarts there are five greenhouses, then there is a long, gentle hill and a large courtyard. Right?' He couldn't help but feel there was another landmark he was missing.' It is amazing how little detail you can recall about places you've been to hundreds of times before when you are under pressure. 'Amazing... and highly inconvenient.'

Harry knew that every second he waited, his task became harder. He was starting to feel unsure about his next move as well and that was a problem. Sirius had once told him that on the battlefield you are your own worst enemy. You need to keep focused on the reality of your situation and use that information to make clear decisions. The thought of his recently deceased godfather caused Harry to wince inwardly. 'Get it together Harry, this is exactly the sort of thing he was warning you about.' Taking one last deep breath he moved towards the western corner of Greenhouse Five. He peered around the corner cautiously and was immediately forced to go to ground as a spell flew towards his head. "Shit!" Harry was suprised to hear the expletive leave his mouth. 'That was so-damned close.' He managed to return to his hiding place just in time to see another curse fly past the greenhouse and slam into a nearby tree. Judging from the angle the two spells came from, they were cast by two diffirent people. A low crunching noise alerted Harry to the fact that the two who fired the curses were approaching his position. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.'

Knowing that his position was not defendable, at least not against multiple enemies, Harry decided to run around the greenhouses in the opposite direction to what he originally intended. 'Here goes nothing, or everything. I suppose it depends on how you look at it.' He knew there would be enemies waiting for him around the corner, and if he made it past them, there would be even more near the castle. Even so, he had no choice but to make a run for it and hope for the best. Harry readied his wand and stormed off towards the castle. The run was going to take about two minutes and not for the first time Harry wished he paid more attention to his psyichal fitness. Sure, he played quidditch, but his main focus during training was to build strength so that he could better control his broom for long periods of time. The first two curses shot in his direction came from over one-hundred feet away and were, unfortunately for Harry, not far from connecting with their target. Evidently, someone up ahead had both saw him coming and had the skills to make a decent attempt at hitting him. Harry had to duck to his left at great pace to avoid the more accurate of the two spells. Even then, he could feel the heat energy of the spell as it whizzed past his right shoulder. Harry fired a stunning spell in return but his aim was well-off. He wasn't well-practiced at firing spells on the run: which was an appalling oversight in his magical training now that Harry came to think about it. 'This ones means business.' Harry had little time to ruminate further because another four curses were already heading in his direction. Two of them had come from the same place as before but the other two had come from opposite sides of the courtyard up ahead. 'Great, there's at least three of them.' Outnumbered and out-manouevered Harry's thoughts turned to Ron and Hermione. They weren't there to help him this time.

The spellfire was relentless. To make matters worse, Harry's progress was significantly slower than he had hoped because he kept needing to dodge the incoming curses. He was not going to make it to the Great Hall, he knew that now. It was just a matter of time before one of the curses hit. As luck would have it, a trememndous burst of spells was launched in his direction right at that moment. He instantly knew that his luck had run out; he would not be able to block them all. Harry's fight was over. Left, right, left, left again. Harry's highly trained reflexes allowed him to avoid four hexes before one finally slammed into his chest. The world went dark. Harry had fallen just fifty feet from the enormous wooden doors of the Entrance Hall.

Waking up after being hit with a stunning spell is an odd sensation. Your brain acts as if it has only been interrupted by a minor glitch and attempts to continue from where it left off. At the same time, it is assaulted by sounds and sights that indicate your surroundings have changed completely. To say it is disorienting is an understatement.

"Harry, you alright mate?" Ron's voice was oddly comforting despite the fact Harry was never in any danger on the fields of Hogwarts. No matter the context, having dozens of spells streaming towards you is a disconcerting experience. He turned his head to face his male best friend and groaned. Although the stunning spell itself had caused no damage, the deep ache in Harry's lower back indicated that he must have fell to the ground awkwardly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry replied groggily, as his eyes adjusted to the light in the Great Hall. "How about you?" Harry enquired, slowly pulling himself up enough to prop up his head on his left hand. It was too soon to move any more than that.

"I barely got a scratch," Ron confided gloomily.

"You sound disappointed," Harry noted.

"Yeah, I got caught in a firefight in the main courtyard about twenty minutes in and had to yield." Having known Ron for five years, Harry knew that such a poor performance would have stung his friend's pride.

"Oh, that's unlucky mate," Harry lamented sincerely. " I strayed too far away from the main action and it was too hard to fight my way back," he added in an attempt to make Ron feel better.

"I don't know, It looked like you were doing okay from here." Seeing Harry's questioning glance, Ron elaborated: "They had screens up around the Great Hall monitoring how everyone was going."

As far as Harry could remember, the Headmaster hadn't mentioned anything about that to the students when he announced the First Engagement at the Welcoming Feast. "In light of recent events, there have been significant changes to the Hogwart's curriculum." Dumbledore's words had caused a stir amongst the students that night and the reverberations were still being felt when the First Engagement began three hours ago. At any rate, now that Harry thought about it, it made sense that the event was being so closely watched. How else were the teacher's going to properly assess the students?

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, curious to know how his other best friend had fared. Ron blushed lightly as he pointed towards the Entrance Hall. "Getting some treatment from Madame Pomfrey. Apparently she fell into one of the rose bushes near the courtyard. Must have been when she was stunned."

"Ouch," was Harry's immediate reply. "She's alright though?"

"Oh, yes, she's fine, just some cuts and scrapes. Pomfrey's a bloody menace though. She shooed me off like I was a rodent or a fly or something."

'Ah, so that would explain the blushing then.'

Rather than making a big deal out of his red-headed friend's embarassment, Harry changed the subject. "So, who won?"

"Well no one really. Flitwick and Sprout were camped near the entrance and stopped anyone from entering."

'That's interesting,' Harry thought, 'We were so poor that Snape, Mcgonagall and Dumbledore didn't even have to enter the fray.' Harry hadn't expected Dumbledore to fight, but he thought some of the seventh years might be able to test some of the teachers less familiar with dueling.

"We didn't exactly cover ourselves in glory then," Harry stated wryly.

"Not unless you consider being beaten by our Herbology teacher, a woman I've never seen use a wand before today, glorious."

'Indeed,' Harry thought.

The meal following the First Engagement could well go down in the history books as the quietest mass gathering of teenagers of all time. The only noise that could be heard was the unpleasant scraping of cutlery and crockery. Even the teachers weren't talking. The combination of the entire student populace being exhausted from the afternoon's exertions and the realisation of just how much work they needed to do on their combat skills to be considered even semi-competent culminated in an almost eerie silence.

Harry was surprised to find that Hermione was visibly upset by the events of the afternoon. She joined Ron and Harry in the courtyard just before dinner was due to be served and didn't waste any time in letting her best friends know just how poorly they had all performed. "It's not surprising Dumbledore felt the need to change things up a bit," Hermione said. "Our spellcasting was terrible, our tactics were terrible, our ability to hit a moving target was terrible. I saw a seventh year Ravenclaw try to stun a stationary student just ten feet away, only to miss and have his own spell ricochet off the castle wall and thud into his own chest." Harry was going to suggest that maybe the Ravenclaw had slipped or simply had a case of nerves, but Hermione cut him off. "What made it even worse is that the stunner didn't even knock him out."

Approximately, thirty minutes passed before Dumbledore finally rose from his chair to speak. Almost every pair of eyes in the Great Hall was focused on the Headmaster. Predictably, the few pairs that weren't belonged to a handful of older Slytherin students who appeared to find their food far more interesting than anything Dumbledore had to say.

"The first time I stepped on to a battlefield was when I was fifteen years old. A minor dark wizard based near the town I grew up in was causing problems with some local business owners. I say 'minor dark wizard' because he never murdered anyone, at least as far as I am aware. Even so, he was exceptionally cruel and wildly unpredictable. For the most part, the wealthy men and women of the town managed to placate the wizard by paying bribes and promising favours I won't bore you with the precise details as to why it happened, but the local townspeople eventually grew tired of trying to placate the man and decided to make a stand against him."

Harry had not expected to be regaled with a tale from Dumbledore's youth but found himself fascinated nonetheless. A quick glance around the Great Hall revealed that practically the whole student body appeared to be as interested in the Headmaster's story as Harry was. 'Come to think about it, I know absolutely nothing about his past,' Harry thought surprised by his ignorance. He should really know more about such an important figure. 'Especially since he has been keeping important information away from me for my entire life...'

"The fight began in the town centre. A force of roughly one hundred townspeople came to fight against him and his followers. As the town's brightest student, I was expected to fight and fight well. My knowledge of spells was second to none, my aim and dueling form was impeccable., the moment to prove my worth had come. And within thirty seconds of the fight breaking out I realised that I was completely out of my depth."

Harry could hear hushed whispers coming from all four tables. Surely, Albus Dumbledore, fabled leader of the light and vanquisher of dark lords, was simply exaggerating the extent of his troubles to prove a point. The look in the Headmaster's eyes betrayed the truth of the matter however, Albus Dumbledore had indeed once been as useless on the battelfield as they were today. It was hard to believe, especially considering the awesome display of magic Harry had seen from Dumbledore in the Ministy Atrium just over two months ago. Harry could not stop his brain from placing that duel in the context of the events of that fateful night. 'That was just after Sirius was killed and just before I learned the contents of the Prophecy.'

"The first, and most obvious, problem was that I had next to no knowledge of combat tactics. The second problem was that I had never experienced the confusion and chaos of an active battlefield before. It was all so messy and disorienting and I was lucky to escape with my life."

Not surprisingly, a large amount of students appeared to be shocked. It was just so odd to hear such a strong figure talk so openly about how close he had come to death and how vulnerable he once was. It was a startling reminder that even the most powerful and brilliant witches and wizards were not perfect.

"Today, all of you, with the exception of a select few, experienced your first taste of combat. The point of today was to demonstrate how important every aspect of your magical training is to your survival. Out of over four hundred students, none of you came close to making it to your objective. Some of you had all the spells, but like me when I was your age, no knowledge of tactics. Some of you had a solid plan in place but didn't have the skills to execute it. Others were simply not physically strong enough, or didn't know when the right moment to attack was, or didn't have the patience to wait for the opportune moment, or simply just got lost in the chaos."

"You are unfortunate to be growing up during a time when one of the most powerful and psychopathic dark wizards of all time is at large. That does not mean, however, that your life is forfeit. If you work hard, acknowledge your faults and devote yourself to bettering all of your skills, you will stand a very good chance of not only surviving the tough times, but thriving. Starting from tomorrow morning your new training schedule begins. Make sure you get plenty of rest; you will need it."

And with that, the Great Hall, deathly silent for almost an hour, was quite suddenly a hive of activity. The atmosphere was heavy no doubt - the most respected wizard of the last one hundred years had all but guaranteed that they would all be forced to fight for their lives at some point in the near future – but for the moment it was also greatly optimistic.