A/N: Happy 2019 everybody! I was absolutely bowled over by the response I got. Thanks for all the suggestions and interest. Let me just clarify that Harry won't become very powerful all of a sudden. I know it has been done in a lot of places but I'll stick to canon power level for a bit before slowly pulling away. He will become powerful, but not spontaneously. I'll also like to add that all characters have an underlying reason to their behaviour, which may or may not be evident. For anyone curious, the French language disparity will be cleared up in the next chapter. That's all for now.

Somewhere not very far away in a deceptively ordinary room with no windows a person kneeled in front of a wall. Two ancient torches had been strategically placed at some distance apart at chest height. They waned intermittently - and between the torches a shadow flickered ever so slightly.

But that was enough for the loyal devotee who regarded the mere shade with benevolence at first sight, and fear at the second. Another strange thing about the room was that it had no doors, and the walls were made to be impenetrable by all but the strongest magic.

There were woefully alone - the shade and its advocate.

'My lord…' The devotee's voice trembled with practised fearfulness.

'You may rise.' A voice came from somewhere in the vicinity of the shade. It was a shrill whisper, almost pitiful to hear. But it struck terror into the listener's heart. The voice was stronger than before, he was gaining power.

'My lord,' the person said, 'The first stage of our plan has succeeded. But I fear the Goblet will not be so easy to fool. As you said yourself, it is guarded…'

'Fool!' Hissed the voice from the shade, its shrillness almost painful to hear, 'Utter fool! Is this how you expect to gain my favour?! You will not complain. You will carry out my bidding, or suffer the consequences. Be glad that I have not attained my form yet.'

The person listened to all this with quiet detachment. It was not the first time that he had to listen to this sort of tirade. But this time the shade seemed to sense the effect, or lack thereof, his words had on his only advocate.

Suddenly the torches burned wildly and a sense of complete weakness came upon the follower. Pain shot up from his feet to his head. The only person in the room fell down, arms flailing wildly.

'You will do as I said.' The voice came in almost a whisper from the disembodied shadow, but the threat was evident. The torches went out all of a sudden, hissing in the darkness.

Some of the strength had now returned to the stricken. The dismissal was understood.

With a crack not quite entirely unlike disapparation, the room was suddenly empty.

A cruel laughter faded away into oblivion.

Harry stood, enraptured by the performance that he was receiving. In fact, by now all the students had gotten up. A transparent shield guarded them from stray spells. Fleur was holding her own against the more experienced defence professor. Mr Durant kept shouting out common techniques and defences to the students. Some of them were scribbling madly while others simply enjoyed the duel. Fleur shot a stunner to the right of Mr Durant which was followed by another to his left.

'That was the Crombie attack!' Shouted out Durant, shielding against an orange spell directed at him.

'The Coulier Counter!' He shouted once more while running with his shied towards Fleur, dispelling it at the last moment and firing an expelliarmus at her midriff and her feet. To his disappointment, he found Fleur appearing behind him. He quickly motioned for her to stop.

'That was a very good use of an illusion during a fight.' He directed this remark towards his students. While my shield momentarily distracted me from seeing her, she disillusioned herself and left an image of her for me to attack.'

Fleur smiled a little.

'And that was a demonstration of how proper duels should happen, even though none of us were serious. Nevertheless, a small applause for Miss Delacour would be well deserved.'

Everybody instantly started clapping, even a few hoots were heard. Fleur simply smiled constrainedly and vanished through the back door.

'Class is over.' announced Mr Durant.

Harry left the classroom with Aurelie.

'That was awesome!' Harry burst out as soon as they were outside.

'That's what all the boys will say.' Said Aurelie, bitterly.

'Why? What?' Harry stuttered a bit., 'Didn't you like it?'

'Of course I did! It was amazing. But I'm not sure all of us thought the duel was the best part.'

'I did.' Protested Harry, ignoring his slightly guilty feeling. It was true, he did think the duel was the best part. It was just that it wasn't the only part.

'Didn't you hear what some of the other boys were saying just now?'

'What?'

'Oh, only I wish she showed a bit more leg' She mimed. Harry almost choked with embarrassment. Time to take the conversation away, he thought.

'Why… why are you so bothered by it?' He asked.

'You would be too, if you knew her side of the story.'

'You're friends?' Harry asked cautiously.

'The best.' Said Aurelie, a slight grin on her face, 'I bet you'll like to be friends with her too.'

'I don't know.' He shrugged unconcernedly.

'But then, you always have me.'

'I… guess.' Harry said, 'You know what, I'm getting late for dinner. I'll see you later.'

'Sure.' Said Aurelie, 'Tomorrow, if you care about your Quidditch.'

She skipped away merrily towards another girl walking on the other side of the passage.

Harry remembered their appointment the next day with a shock. Ah well, how bad could it go? He quickened his pace as he approached the table. Somehow, it managed to capture his awe once more. It was massive with a vaulted white roof at the top and traditional french carvings on its sides. The table was populated with a crowd of students in different colours. He found Hermione waving at him. He smiled and went and sat down beside her.

'How was your day, Harry?' She asked brightly.

'Not too bad. I just saw an amazing duel back in the Defense classroom.'

'Between whom?' Hermione leaned forward with interest.

'Mr Durant and somebody named Fleur Delacour.'

'Oh really? That's nice.' She suddenly sounded a bit distracted as she spoke, probably thinking about something she read in a book earlier. Harry followed her gaze towards the head of the table where the Heads of the school sat. He saw nothing of much interest.

Harry was a bit annoyed at the docile response, but he didn't say anything else.

They ate in silence while his thoughts wandered to how the next day would be. To be honest, he was actually feeling a tinge of nervousness in the new surroundings. They were just so unfamiliar.

That night he had a very unusual dream. He dreamt he was a shadow, without any body; and strangely mutilated - as if a very important part of him had been torn away. He could see himself flitting around the walls of Beauxbatons. A feeling of anguish came over him: he could not get inside. Something… someone was preventing him. The thoughts were strangely foreign, as if they were not his own. Then a strange voice spoke out of nowhere, in almost a whisper,

'Harry Potter.'

Harry woke up breathing heavily, his eyes slowly getting used to the darkness around him. He had just realised something - the voice speaking had been his own.

The room was mostly dark except for a few purple and orange lights flashing and twinkling intermittently. There was complete silence. The most powerful wizard in the palace was sleeping when a feather rose from a huge ornate, wooden table near his bed. It drifted steadily towards the sleeping man and positioned itself carefully in front of his ear. Dumbledore woke up with a start. His ear was still ticklish as he willed the feather to his hand. He lifted the lone feather to his ear, as if listening for something. With a slightly surprised look he place the feather back on the table and summoned his wand. With a silent spell he was dressed in his usual midnight blue robes.

With another twitch of his wand, his nightcap vanished from his head. Soon he was walking on the vast gardens of Beauxbatons with only one thought in his mind - What was Harry doing outside the palace?

The very object of his thoughts soon arrived in front of him, but only one person was surprised at this apparent coincidence.

'Professor… Professor Dumbledore?' Harry said in surprise, taking off his invisibility cloak, 'What are you doing here?'

'Alas Harry! That is a question I ask myself everyday, but I have yet found no answer.' Came the enigmatic reply.

Harry simply stared at the old wizard and adopted an appropriate wise expression. He couldn't find any way to further what may be constituted as a conversation.

Luckily, and unlike some other times he could think of, Dumbledore came to the rescue.

'What brings you here, my dear boy?' He asked. Harry was tempted to reply in the manner as Dumbledore had but decided that he wasn't old enough.

'I had a dream. I… I couldn't sleep after that.' Said Harry honestly.

'Indeed, what sort of dream?'

Harry explained it as best as he could, while the old man simply listened in silence. Dumbledore gave a huge sigh at the end of his description.

'I feared… I feared very much that it might come to this. Tell me, were you feeling strong or perhaps a bit weak?' Asked Dumbledore.

'Very weak.' Replied Harry instantly.

'That is… good news.' The reply was slow and thoughtful, 'You need not worry about it, Harry. Just tells me the next time it happens, if it does.'

'But what does it mean?'

A long period of silence was followed by a quiet dismissive reply,

'Nothing much, only the tremors of what it is yet to come.' Dumbledore then disappeared into the night, leaving Harry to his own thoughts. The boy with a scar on his forehead was troubled, he hated it when things weren't explained clearly to him, which had a happened a lot in the past few years. For the first time, he felt a burning curiosity of the like he had never felt before. Somebody's advice came back to him. An advice which had been offered many times but rarely been given even the tiniest consideration.

With a purposeful step, Harry headed towards the library.

The Beauxbatons library was practical. The books were arranged in neat little rows and columns in shelves inside the walls which reached up to the very top of the high roof. The covers were mostly red, brown or green with golden markings on them. There was the usual dusty smell of old books and parchment, creating an overall cozy atmosphere. Harry craned his neck to read the book titles in the higher racks but some of them seemed to be written in an indecipherable language. After a while, he couldn't even make out the letters. He pondered along the lower shelves, scrutinising them deeply. After a while, a sleepy looking librarian in a nightdress approached him. He looked at the boy sharply through his monocles.

'Que faites-vous?' He said. What are you doing?

He then made a show of looking at his watch. Harry looked at him, puzzled. This was the first time someone had addressed him in french.

'English?' He asked hopefully.

'Non.' Replied the librarian. He scrunched his eyebrows thoughtfully.

'Dumbledore?' He said.

'Yes. I'm from Dumbledore's school.' Harry replied eagerly, thankful that the librarian caught on quickly.

The sleepy man waved his hands dismissively and muttered something incomprehensible. He then started walking towards the back of the place. Harry looked at his retreating form in apprehension. He needed to find a book. Surely the librarian could help.

'Hey, mister.' He called towards him. 'I need your help.'

The man turned back in slight irritation.

'Quoi?' He asked, his tone a bit harsh.

Through a complicated series of motions which involved pointing to his head, pointing to the shelves and repeating that for quite a few times, Harry finally managed to convey what he wanted to the librarian. The librarian lead him to a shelf, grunted out something and walked away at an astonishingly quick pace.

It was clear that he wasn't paid for night shifts.

Harry heaved a sigh of relief and looked at the towering shelves which loomed above him. Thankfully, most of the titles were in English. Not so thankfully, there were too many books to count. Selecting a book at random, Harry started reading the book with concentrated fervour. It was a detailed account of an art called Occulumency.

An arcane and oft lightly dismissed branch of wandless magic, Occulumency has its origins deeply rooted in the times of Merlin, specifically during the War of Peace. It was harsh time, with both sides trying hard to keep up with the other. Secrets were impossible to keep. The enemy would be forewarned of almost every attack and its respective tactics, courtesy of the ancient art of Leglimency. Merlin was thus forced to devise a method to counter its attack - and Occulumency was created. It was initially crude and easily detectable, albeit effective. The War was, not surprisingly, won soon after its inception. Centuries later it has evolved to a point wherein, with sufficient expertise, it is impossible to determine whether someone has employed Occumlumency or not, and to distinguish between true thought and a false trail of images left by the expert Occulumens. This is the reason due to which courts do not allow its use or trust any evidence thus presented. In a recent…

This was followed by a drawn out description of how to start learning it. It included several mind exercises which Harry initially perused with interest. But gradually he started to feel a bit dizzy. Maybe it was the long, technically phrased paragraphs in small sized print or the homely warmth of the library.

Harry Potter was fast asleep in ten minutes.

The students of Beauxbatons were not very different from the ones at Hogwarts in one particular respect. They were all fond of sleep, except for a few fitness freaks. However it was not someone in track suit who found Harry in the library. Far from it. It was someone who had her priorities carefully placed and sleeping was not anywhere near the top of it.

'Harry!' Hermione almost shouted in surprise when she saw his sleeping figure slouched over a book.

Over a book. In a library. Hermione nearly tried to check his pulse, but desisted and opted for an Aguamenti instead. This was after she had carefully removed the book from his hands, of course.

'Arrghzca!' Harry sat up in shock, rubbing his neck. His pleasant dream had been interrupted just at the wrong moment.

'Hermione?' He asked questioningly, quickly drying himself off and matting down his hair.

'Hi Harry! I'm so glad you finally decided to take your studies seriously. I mean, I really think it was time you realised that exams were not something you could give after preparing just a month or so. Well, I won't say I told you so now that you've realised yourself how imp…' .

Hermione suddenly trailed off as she realised that Harry wasn't paying any attention to her at all.

'Harry!' She said irritably.

'Yes… yes, I was listening! Go o…' Harry's voice stuck in his throat before he could get the words 'Go on' out of his mouth. He just couldn't.

Hermione huffed and looked in another direction. She picked up the book Harry was reading.

'What's this? Occulumency: A Contemporary Analysis. What's that? I've never heard of it. Sounds like pretty advanced stuff.'

She looked up after reading the first page of the introduction. No, she did not flip the pages. Hermione simply did not flip through books - that was sacrilege.

'Why are you reading this?' She asked, unable to conceal the surprise in her voice.

The boy shrugged. He wasn't ready to deal with another barrage of questioning.

'I felt like it.' He said.

'Well, I'll leave you to it then.' A small tinge of pride crept into her voice. She got up, said a quiet goodbye and left the library.

Harry read the book for some more time and finally decided that it was impossible for him to learn on his own. He had to get someone to help him. The problem was, he didn't know whom to ask. It was highly unlikely any of the Hogwarts students would have even heard of it. The same applied for the other school's students. A professor then. It couldn't be Dumbledore, he had already shown exactly how much he was willing to help. Mr Durant was a possibility, but he had to be convinced.

Harry left the library with his hands in his pockets, deep in thought. Students in blue milled around him, with the occasional sprinkling of black and yellow. He walked around aimlessly for a while before a thought struck him. A very important thought. He brought out his wand and muttered Tempus.

12:32.

He buried his face in his hands. He had missed his appointment with Aurelie. He looked miserably at the glowing white numbers. Right then, with amazing timing, the person he wanted to least see at this moment appeared in front of him.

'Potter.' Draco sneered, 'Finally realised how pathetic you are?'

'Go away, Malfoy.' Harry said tiredly, 'I don't have time for all this.'

'And I don't have the patience to talk to you. So get out my way.'

'I'd rather not.'

And without saying another word, Harry pushed past his nemesis. The Malfoy scion looked behind in astonishment and rage. He would not tolerate such disrespect. HIs raised his wand at Harry's back, a hex on the tip of his tongue, and let fire. Suddenly a glowing green shield appeared in front of it and a yellow streak shot past it and hit straight at Draco's chest.

Some of the students around stepped back in caution. Corridor duels had zero tolerance in Beauxbatons. Sure enough, an imperious Monsieur Durant came striding around the corner.

'Hogwarts!' He shouted. Harry and Draco looked at the professor.

'Follow me.' Came the order. The two rule-breakers were lead around a maze of corridors until they finally approached a door with Durant written on top of it.

'Inside.' The professor ordered, 'Sit.' He pointed them to two chairs in front of a table. He himself conjured a chair and sat in front of them.

'You represent your school and all it stands for. Do you truly wish to dishonour its name?' He asked pointedly. Two heads shook mutely.

'Who fired the first shot?'

'He did.' Said Harry. Draco opened his mouth at the same time but no words came out. His face grew red and he furiously pointed at Harry.

Faint traces of a smile appeared on Mr Durant's face. He looked at Harry.

'I assume this is your doing. This was the spell which you hit him with, no?'

Harry nodded, struggling to keep his face serious. Draco had started rocking his chair in an attempt to gain their attention by now.

Mr Durant dispelled the charm with a swish of his wand.

'You!' Draco burst out furiously, pointing at Harry. 'You fired at me while my back was turned! How dare you injure a Malfoy.'

Harry looked at Draco with his mouth open. Wasn't he the one who fired at his back?!

'I swear…' Harry started insistently.

'That would be enough.' Mr Durant said quietly. 'May I remind you that there were plenty of eyewitnesses and I already took the precaution of questioning a few students. Perhaps one of you would admit that you were mistaken.'

He looked pointedly at Draco. Draco kept quiet as Mr Durant knowingly turned his face back to Harry.

'But he fired at me!' Draco burst out in indignation, 'He injured a Malfoy!'

Durant turned back to Draco with a raised eyebrow.

'Losing your voice for few minutes could hardly be qualified as an injury, Mr Malfoy. However, I concede that he should not have fired at you. An apology would be in order, I believe.'

Malfoy immediately adopted a smug look on his face but Durant soon took care of that.

'From both of you.'

'Sorry, Draco.' Said Harry, barely stopping himself from smiling. Draco would have to swallow some of his pride now.

'Apology accepted.' Said Draco. A stern look came from Durant.

Malfoy gritted his teeth for a few moments but finally said,

'Sorry, Potter.' He mumbled.

'May I go now?' He asked Mr Durant.

'Of course.' Durant's hand waved towards the door.

The door shut with a small bang. Harry immediately accosted the professor.

'You didn't speak with any people in the corridor. You didn't have any time.' He said.

'That's right.' Said Mr Durant airily.

'You didn't know who fired first or anything.'

'Right again.' Said Durant, smiling a bit now, 'However, I did have my suspicions.'

A bubble of laughter formed in Harry's throat. Draco had dug his own grave and he hadn't even known about it. The professor was smarter than he looked and Harry suspected an implied mutual dislike of Draco Malfoy. Nothing could possibly be better…

In that moment, Harry found the courage to ask him the question which had been pressing him for hours.

'Professor.' He started with a slightly questioning tone.

Yes?' Durant was busy looking for somethings in the drawer of his desk which seemed to be considerably larger than it looked. In fact, Durant was currently inside the drawer up to his his waist. His voice came slightly muffled to Harry.

'I wanted to ask you something.'

The Defence professor straightened up.

'Go on.'

'I was wondering if you could teach me Occulumency.'

Mr Durant involuntarily froze at that question but answered smoothly,

'That is a question you should ask your headmaster. He is an acknowledged expert in that particular field of magic.'

'But I… I would rather you teach it to me.'

Durant paused for a few moments before answering.

'I will not ask why you want to learn it, since I believe it is a skill every witch or wizard should have some familiarity with. I am touched that you asked me. However, as you know, I am a very busy man. I will not have the time or patience to do it myself, I am afraid. But if you are willing, I could arrange for somebody to assist you.'

Harry sighed in relief. It was as good as he could have expected.

'Thank you very much, sir. And, well… I'd rather this remain a secret, if you don't mind.'

There was silence for a few long seconds before the answer came.

'But of course, Harry… wasn't it?' His voice dangerously lingered on the name before he proceeded.

'I'll see you later, Harry. 9 pm. tomorrow would be good. At my office.'

'I'll be there. Bye, sir.'

That day Harry did not meet Aurelie, so he enlisted Hermione's help. The common area in front of their rooms was quite big and more importantly, did not have many people in it.

Hermione followed Harry and listened carefully to what he was saying.

'Cast the disarming spell at me as weakly as you can.' He said, 'I'll try to avoid its effects.'

Hermione looked at him confusedly,

'You mean you'll cast a shield? Or dodge?'

'No. I'll… I'll try not to be disarmed.'

'So you will cast a shield?'

'Nooo!' Harry's voice lifted slightly in frustration, 'I won't do anything.'

'Then how will you avoid it?'

Harry launched into a long explanation of what had happened in the last Defence class. Hermione was a good listener.

'Ah,' She said at the end, 'I've never thought of it that way. I'll have to read up on it a bit.'

'Good.' Said Harry, 'Now can we start?'

An hour of energy sapping practice followed at the end of which Harry felt nothing other than a slight tingling in his hand every time his wand flew out of it. They finally stopped when Hermione noticed Harry drop his wand even before she cast the spell.

'Are you sure you should be doing this?' She asked concernedly.

'Yes.' Said Harry determinedly.

A few moments passed before Hermione spoke again.

'Why?' She said.

'Why?' Harry stared at here as if she was crazy. He had just told her why he was doing this.

'Yes, why. I think there's more to it than you think.'

'Why can't you just accept what I said?'

'Harry… you know there's a reason why they never teach advanced magic to us students. It can cause magical exhaustion and even death.'

'You can't seriously…' Harry started.

'I'm not.' Hermione said patiently, 'I just think you ought to know the details before committing yourself.'

She sounded like she was hiding something. Harry stared at her. She unflinchingly stared back. They were at odds. The clock ticked by. Then by some mutual understanding, both of them parted in silence.

The next day was a Saturday and Harry felt no compulsion to wake up before he absolutely had to. He leisurely got up and walked to the breakfast table which was almost empty. Unlike Hogwarts, there were windows which opened up to the gardens outside. It looked to be a bright sunny day. The sky was a clear blue overhead with a few wisps of clouds visible. Harry helped himself to a large serving of toast and a weird tasty looking French dish. He had just started to eat when he noticed someone sidling up beside him. He turned, thinking it was Hermione. To his surprise it was Aurelié.

'Aurelié,' He said uncertainly, 'Hi'.

'Hi Harry, it's nice to see you so early in the morning.' She said sweetly, far too sweetly, laying unnecessary stress on the word 'early.' Harry frowned a bit.

'Its a Saturday, and besides I don't have any classes.' He said.

'I know you don't. You also didn't have any other appointments you can think of, I guess?' She said casually. But she was anything but it. Her eyes were watching Harry intently.

Then in a flash it all came back to him. Of course, he hadn't kept his word to Aurelié. The dreaded moment had come; and the worst thing was he couldn't even tell her exactly why without delving into topics he'd rather not talk about.

'Look, Aurelie.' He started, avoiding her eyes, 'I'm dreadfully sorry. I couldn't help it.'

Oops, wrong choice of words, 'I mean it was unavoidable.' Not much better, 'I mean, you know, something came up which… which couldn't be ignored.'

Aurelie kept looking at him intently, her bright blue eyes focused on his face. Harry braced himself for inevitable. But it never came.

'You know what, a girl doesn't like being kept waiting. But somehow, I believe you.' She said after some time.

'You do?' Harry asked startled.

'I do.' She smiled a bit, 'You like Quidditch so much, you wouldn't miss it for just anything.

'I guess.' Harry felt conflicted. He wanted to tell her it wasn't just Quidditch he would do it for. That he felt that keeping his word was important. She was a friend to him now, and he didn't let friends down like that. But he just… couldn't bring himself to say all that.

She stood up and bent her face down a bit in front of his, her black hair falling in strands over her face. Her blue eyes twinkled with mirth.

'I'll forgive you Harry, but only on one condition. Sunday. Eight am. sharp. Don't be late.'

'I'll be there.' Harry said confidently.

As she walked away, only one thing came to his mind. How did she know he liked Quidditch as much as she thought he did?

Harry attended a Charms and Potions class later in the day. Charms was undeniably a much more enjoyable experience in Hogwarts. Potions however, was completely the opposite. He was actually provided with a cauldron and other ingredients. And without Snape's irritable face ready to pounce upon his mistakes, he found himself performing better than he had before. In fact, by the time class was over, he had actually produced a pretty much passable potion which was almost the shade of lilac written in the book. The Potions master, a thin stick figure of a human being, smiled warmly at him as he placed his bottled potion on the table.

Hermione met him outside the library with around four books in her hand. Her hair was even more dishevelled than usual and she kept rubbing her eyes.

'Seriously Hermione, you need to relax for a bit.' He said insistently.

'I try, Harry.' She said, dropping her books into a pouch which seemed to swallow all the books whole.

'No, actually. What you need is a breathe of fresh air.'

'I'm fine, honestly.'

'Well then, I need a breathe of fresh air and you're coming to keep me company.'

Despite Hermione's protests, he dragged her outside to the expansive Beauxbatons lawns. It was dusk and the sky had turned a flaming red and yellow. Numerous other students loitered there, enjoying the evening. The breeze blew lightly and made the place slightly chilly, but still pleasant.

'It actually is pretty nice outside.' Hermione relented. Harry grinned at her.

'Told you.'

They just wandered around for a few minutes before Hermione decided to speak up.

'Remember what happened yesterday? About that weird disarming practice.' She said.

Harry nodded, confused why she wanted to talk about it. It wasn't like he held grudges.

'Yeah so,' She continued, 'I asked around and guess what? This is the first time Mr Durant teaching this. Ever. And he's been here for the last twelve years.'

'Yeah, so what?' Protested Harry. 'Maybe it's something he stumbled upon recently.'

Hermione shook her head.

'That might have been true if yours wasn't the only class he was teaching it to. Coincidence? I think not.'

Harry pondered it for a while but couldn't find any reasonable explanation for it. At least not one other than what Hermione might have been hinting towards. But that couldn't be true, could it?

The gravel screeched beneath their feet as they walked back to the palace for dinner. The white marble reflected the light off the candles to give it a lustrous sheen. The corridors slowly sloped upwards until they reached the huge dining hall. The inviting smell of freshly prepared food pulled Harry towards it and he had just started filling his plate when a small note floated beside his plate.

Come at once. My office.
Yours flamely,

A.P.W.B.D.

The initials were written with a huge flourish and glowed yellow at random intervals.

'Flamely?' Wondered Harry.

'Just go, Harry. That's Dumbledore. I recognise his initials.' Hermione said.

Those are his initials? Harry thought to himself as he got up hastily and picked up the note. A thought struck him. Just where was his office? Surely he didn't mean in Hogwarts.

All these thoughts barely passed through his mind before he suddenly found himself sitting in a chair in front of Dumbledore. His surroundings were as eccentric as ever, but with noticeably fewer oddments and gadgets. The surrounding marble walls confirmed he was still in Beauxbatons.

'Ah, Harry.' Started Dumbledore, 'I see you received my little note. Have a seat.'

Harry couldn't find a suitable reply, since he was already sitting. But apparently a reply was not expected.

'You will forgive me, of course, for delaying your dinner.'

Harry mutely nodded, it wasn't as if he had any other choice.

'Good.' Said the old wizard. 'Now, onto business. You see Harry, being a powerful wizard does have its perks but occasionally there are questions that even we can't answer. I need you to answer this question, my boy. Truthfully, for I will know otherwise.'

'Yes sir?' Harry questioningly. He was burning with curiosity. Dumbledore was clearly worried about something.

'It is this. Do you, Harry James Potter, know where it is?'

'Where is what?'

Dumbledore looked at him straight in the eye, almost piercing through them. A sharp pain seared in his brain which subsided as soon as Dumbledore broke eye contact. The great man leaned back a little and took off his half- moon spectacles wearily.
'Forgive me, Harry. I looked where there was nothing to find. But I feared that maybe you yourself would not remember the knowledge I require. However, you know nothing of which I speak. That much is evident.'

'What were you looking for? What happened?' Harry asked with some irritation. Dumbledore was always so annoyingly secretive and mysterious.

But this time the Headmaster looked up and answered his question without any riddles.

'The Goblet of Fire is missing.'

A/N: Cliffhanger! Anyone surprised? I gave a small hint at the start of the chapter after all. Leave a review, please. It gives me the motivation to write and improve my story.