{A/N} Title credit to SJ's Superman.


Chapter 7

The Ravenclaw table was abuzz with the latest piece of gossip that morning. A week after his last detention with Riddle, Harry had managed to steer clear of his Professor's wrath and remained silent and as docile as he could get in class. He was enjoying the fresh air of Monday morning in the Great Hall when his dormitory mates sparked his curiosity with their loud conversation from beside him.

"I heard that he is really, really accomplished," Terry Boot said excitedly with his mouth full of toast. "He doesn't normally accept this type of demonstrations, but when Dumbledore invited him over, he agreed immediately."

"And to think that he's the youngest wizard to make it into the Charm Registry…" Antony Goldstein sighed in admiration. "Even Professor Flitwick didn't make it there until he was in his forties and we all know that he is brilliant at Charms."

"Would he only be here for one lesson though?" Another Ravenclaw asked, scratching his head.

"That's what I've heard but apparently, I think he's here for some sort of a favor to Dumbledore…"

Harry perked up, interested now as he listened to their conversation while taking another swig of pumpkin juice. The other boys paid him no heed as they carried on, already accustomed to his silence and quiet contemplation whilst they talked.

"Favor though? Wonder what that'll be."

Harry frowned as he glanced upwards to the Head table where the professors sat. Dumbledore sat at his usual seat in the middle; other than the madly twinkling eyes, there seemed to be no other difference in his composure. The other professors though, looked rather excited. Professor Flitwick himself was jabbering away excitedly to Professor Sprout who seemed slightly taken aback by his boisterous chatter but humoring him nonetheless.

"When will he be here?" Harry turned back to Terry Boot where the others were still discussing that latest information.

The boy gave a light shrug as he reached towards another toast. "Probably during Charms today," he said with his mouth full of food. Harry resisted the urge to shudder and immediately averted his eyes from Terry's face, choosing to stare at the wooden table while listening to them.

He pursed his lips. Charms would prove to be interesting.


"Seventh years, gather round!" The squeaky and upbeat voice of Professor Flitwick resounded from behind the table. A round of snickers later, the tiny Professor magically elevated himself so that he was standing on the table of their newly remodeled classroom.

Gone were the rows of tables and chairs and the large blackboard of the classroom. Instead, the room seemed to be modified and magically enlarged to create a huge open space. Even the ceilings were charmed to mimic the cloudy skies outside and there was a sparrow chirping happily at the window. The floor had a grassy texture to it and Harry was sure that they were tiny grass that had been newly grown to welcome their special guest.

"Attention please!" Professor Flitwick sang as he waved his wand and the chatter of the class fell silent at once. "Allow me to introduce to you our guest – Mortinous Denr, the youngest wizard to have qualified for the Charms Registry Internationally."

As expected, the students started clapping wildly while others were craning their neck to see the elusive Denr, but he was nowhere to be found. Eyebrows creasing, Harry scanned the room from his position far back of the class and noted Professor Flitwick's body to be slightly inclined towards his right side and his turned his gaze there. Barely noticeable was a faint shift in the air and he immediately realized that the man Denr had an invisibility charm on.

But others were not as quick to catch on, with hurried shouting of "Professor, where is he?" resounding through the entire room.

"Now now, settle down –" the tiny Professor tried his best to calm the agitated students who were not paying him any attention.

"You need not look for for me." A new voice said quietly from the far end of the room yet all the students were drawn to it. Turning, their eyes met with Lord Mortinous Denr as his invisibility charm shimmered and dissolved to reveal the famed man.

He was everything like Harry had expected and read about: tall and of moderate build with hair a wavy brown. His eyes were deep and so black a color that it reminded him of Professor Snape's.

"Professor!" a few students cried out, taken aback.

The man casted an alluring smile that caught the breaths of several. "I am Mortinous Denr as Filius has just introduced. You may address me as sir or Lord Denr." The voice was a soothing baritone.

"Professor, why did you choose to come to Hogwarts today?" Gryffindor Granger was the first to ask, hand waving in the air as she tried to inch forward. Harry groaned in his head, having momentarily forgotten that the Charms lesson was combined for all four houses in lieu of their guest.

Another smile from the man and more of the students started swooning. Already accustomed to seeing this in his daily lessons with Professor Riddle, Harry ignored them and waited impatiently for Lord Denr to answer. He too, was curious with the man's arrival. There would have been a good reason why Dumbledore would specially invite the guest over and the conversation he had with Draco days ago replayed in his mind insistently.

"I am here as a favor to Dumbledore," Lord Denr started. At least he was straight to the point. "Although I must admit that I am curious as to the great castle of Hogwarts, having never studied here before."

Surprised whispers immediately greeted the class and Lord Denr continued merrily. "My mother preferred me home-schooled, even when I grew older. The castle of Hogwarts is fascinating and it has almost made me wish I had rebelled against my mother." He winked, striding forward and standing next to Professor Flitwick.

The questions seemed everlasting as the students were eager to hear more about the powerful wizard before them. It seemed almost surreal for them to meet such a highly acclaimed wizard and they were not going to pass this opportunity without getting to know him on a more familiar basis. After fifteen minutes, Harry was relieved to note that Professor Flitwick was ready to interrupt and take over the lesson. Lord Denr was in the middle of sharing his life stories: one involving his brother and a charmed chicken which sang wizarding rhymes that had the crowd laughing.

All but Harry. His lips were stiff.

"Seventh years, listen up!" Flitwick said loudly, his voice magnified to recapture the attention of the students. "Professor Dumbledore wanted Lord Denr here today for reasons apart from letting all of you learn more about the man we only get to see in books. Lord Denr, if you will tell them the lesson we will be having today?" There was a clap and Lord Denr grinned in a playful way.

"How many of you here can cast a successful Patronus Charm?" he asked.

Hands shot into the air immediately without thinking before they slowly sunk back to their original places, the owners looking shifty and awkward after comprehending the question.

Harry frowned, choosing not to raise his hand. Though he had managed to cast his first Patronus in his sixth year, it was not without difficulty and definitely one of the hardest charms he tried. Even till now, he wasn't absolutely confident of his Patronus Charm for it was not always successful. There were times when only a misty form would appear and it frustrated him to no end…

"A non-corporeal Patronus?" Denr amended.

Murmurs buzzed among the students but nobody stood up. However, Denr did not look crestfallen. On the contrary, a bright smile lit up on his face as he beamed.

"Well then, I'm here to teach you all how to conjure a Patronus!" he exclaimed and the students went wild again, bombarding him with questions.

Harry frowned, wondering what the man was up to. Teaching them a Patronus? Of all the possible charms, he was teaching them a Patronus charm and Harry didn't know why. It was out of their syllabus and they only studied the basic theory of it in their sixth year, but not the practical demonstration of it. And Patronuses were used to defend a wizard against a Dementor… Was there something more to Dumbledore's actions?

"But Professor," Granger said loudly, waving her hands in the air to gain his attention. "The Patronus Charm is not in our syllabus."

Glares were shot at her but Denr took his time to answer.

"Dear child, it could never hurt to know more would it?" The smile was amused and so very condescending subtly.

Granger fell silent.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Professor Flitwick said, brandishing his wand. "Hurry along now, we haven't got all day!"

Everyone fell to their usual positions in class and Harry shuffled to the back, eyeing the students up front who were trying their best to conjure a Patronus. As expected, all of them failed miserably though a couple of them looked as though they were a step closer.

Lord Denr and Professor Flitwick went round the class to direct the students on the correct wand manipulation but it wasn't very successful. The minute Lord Denr's moved over to them, they – especially Lavender Brown – fell into girlish giggles that had the hairs on Harry's neck standing. Ignoring the spell-work, he turned to watch the progress of his classmates for a good portion of the lesson until he noticed the Professor making his way towards him.

Clearing his throat and attempting to look focused in order to steer the wizened Professor away, Harry narrowed his eyes in concentration and made a feeble attempt at the Patronus. A long drawn mist erupted from the end of his wand but those around him gasped at that attempt. He had to be the first to have achieved the silver mist, even if it didn't look particularly impressive next to the real Patronus.

Professor Flitwick gave him an encouraging smile before making his way over, still levitated high above to keep watch on the other students. Beside him stood Lord Denr who was quietly observing him with those eyes. He refused to be intimidated by that man… if he could stand against Riddle that smug bastard, why couldn't he against Denr? Riddle's eyes were far more striking in any case.

Satisfied, Harry turned back to his spell-work, ignoring the stares of the Professors until Professor Flitwick began spreaking.

"That's Mr Potter, a very talented student. All rounded," he added as Denr made to speak. "Though I must admit I have a rather soft spot for him, being talented in charms and one of my Ravenclaws."

Harry glanced up to see a beaming Professor Flitwick. Most people would have blushed or displayed some form of humility with that praise, but he didn't see a need to change his demeanor all of a sudden. If Flitwick wanted to show him off to some fancy, foreign guest, then he wasn't going to demean himself in the process, either way.

"Is that so?" Lord Denr said, eyes upon him. His voice was light and amused. "Mr Potter wouldn't mind demonstrating us the charm…would he?"

Harry found the allure emanating from Denr paling in comparison to Riddle, then wondered why he was even comparing the two in the first place. Admittedly, both were immensely powerful though Lord Denr had nothing on Riddle… or Dumbledore.

"I'm afraid I find myself inept in the Patronus Charm," Harry lied smoothly, turning to Professor Flitwick instead.

The traitorous Professor however, exclaimed loudly in his agitation, "Nonsense Mr Potter! If anyone could successfully have a hand in the charm, it would be you. Even an incorporeal form would suffice at this stage."

The loud voice of the Charms Professor drew the attention of the many who had given up at trying to attain more than a spark at the tip of the wand, all turning to watch the scene unfolding before them. Irritated at the pairs of eyes gawking at him, Harry sighed, not liking to be the object of weird fascination and admiration.

Clearing his throat and raising the wand slightly, he murmured, "Expecto Patronum."

There was a light mist that emerged from his wand before a blast of blinding light erupted. Eyes blinked before they adjusted to the sight of a proud, silvery dragon that was flying in the room in all its majestic air. There were faint murmurs and shocked cries at his patronus; some students were gaping in awe at that mystical creature while others dashed forward in hopes of a better view.

"Marvellous, Mr Potter! Twenty points to Ravenclaw!" Professor Flitwick's delighted voice sang from behind him. The tiny Professor looked downright excited as he waved his wand in joy. A silver swan erupted and joined the dragon, soaring around the classroom and making the atmosphere light and hearty.

"It is a remarkable achievement," the deep baritone voice commented.

Harry tore his eyes off the enchanting patronuses to face Lord Denr. "I hope it wasn't disappointing?"

Something serious was playing along Lord Denr's eyes, contrary to the previously light-hearted image he portrayed. "Far from it, Mr Potter," he assured, a hand clasping on Harry's shoulder even though there wasn't a large difference in their height. "You did a wonderful job. I now realize why Dumbledore sang so highly of you, and of course your delightful Professor." He gestured towards Professor Flitwick who was entertaining the eager students.

"Headmaster Dumbledore does seem to think too highly of me," Harry commented casually, observing the man.

"Your last performance at the Hogwarts Dueling Contest leaves no man unsurprised."

Raising an eyebrow, Harry motioned for the man to continue.

"Word travels fast of your spectacular performance. I do admit," Denr inclined his head slightly. "That I came here with high hopes of acquainting myself with the young star of Hogwarts." He shook his head and laughed, but not mockingly so.

"Is that so? I am… undeserving of your time and such attention."

Another of those grins. "Then make it deserving. The second round of the Dueling Contest is coming in another four days, is it not? Hogwarts will be my home for the next week. Grant me another performance as grand as the previous."

His smile was cold, eyes turning hard as he held the gaze of Denr, whose smile started wavering hesitantly. Harry spoke, whispering almost, "Then I do fear that my performance in the competition is based solely on what I want and not what others desire of me. Forgive me for my impudence."

Denr relaxed, chuckling lightly. "It should be I seeking for your forgiveness to tailor to my wants. I hope you do not take offence?" his hearty mood was back, though there was a slight crease between his eyebrows which indicated worry.

A small smirk graced his lips. "I dare not."

"Exactly as Dumbledore had said," Denr said, observing him carefully. "A thinker, brilliant and a leader. Such rare traits found in a man your age, but with maturity I would seldom have seen."

"I was not aware that Dumbledore knew me on a personal level," Harry paused. "But I hear you are well-acquainted with him?"

He laughed. "Our views are similar. But as you very well know, men have differing opinions and it is not without reason that we are acquainted. Dumbledore however, has proved to be a formidable ally, quite unlike any other."

Harry hummed. "I'm sure he is," he said, tone light despite the sudden wariness he felt.

Turning back to the lesson and rejoining the crowd, he effectively cut off their conversation. Focusing on the remaining minutes of the lesson, he ignored the pair of eyes on him, staring fixatedly at the blackboard.

Dumbledore… Lord Denr was here because of Dumbledore.

And his purpose was to court him over.


In lieu of the second round of the Dueling Competition and the arrival of an honored guest, the tension was high around Hogwarts. Students could be found in clusters along the corridors, their heads huddled together as they discussed the latest gossip they heard, usually involving the whereabouts of Lord Denr, who seemed to light up the castle with his good humor.

By far and large, all the professors looked amused by the light-hearted jokes and smiles brought by the man… all but a few. More than a few times had Professor McGonagall barked at students who were not paying attention in her class; Professor Riddle remained in his usual stoic but perceived-to-be-charming manner, seeming to be unaffected by the guest if not irritated. It was only during his lesson that all talks about Lord Denr and the Dueling Competition ceased to be replaced by swoons on him and Harry wasn't sure which he preferred.

In the most recent Defense class, Lord Denr had sat in with the seventh-years. For the large part of the lesson, the two Lords had ignored each other. The few times they talked, it was smooth though Harry thought that Lord Denr was sweating slightly under the heated gazes and clipped remarks of Riddle. He had to admire the man for continuing on with his numerous questions about the class though.

And now, briskly walking along the first-floor corridor leading to the Great Hall, Harry was hurrying to the meeting that Professor Riddle had scheduled. It was the details concerning the second round of the Dueling Competition tomorrow and he had a hunch that it would be involving group dueling. More than a few times Riddle had hinted about it in class – in between lessons and explanations of how the Imperius Curse worked – but it seemed that the majority of Hogwarts hadn't any idea.

Some of the more absurd theories involved fighting a dragon and a sphinx which he had ruled out immediately. The Dueling Competition was centered on human-based Dueling, without animals unless transfigured during the match itself.

Relieved that the meeting had not started, he stepped into the Great Hall and found a seat at the Slytherin table where the majority of the qualified students sat at, presumably waiting for the Professor. A quick tempus charm indicated that he was a minute early, and on time.

Settling down, he gave a quick glance at the other students who had made it into the second round. Amongst them, his gaze lingered here and there, before moving on. Most of the students he recognized as from Gryffindor and Slytherin, with fewer Ravenclaws and even less Hufflepuffs in the midst. He caught sight of Draco Malfoy along with Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott right at the head of the table, heads bent together as they murmured quietly to each other.

"Gather round," a short voice sounded from behind.

Heads turned to meet Riddle who was striding forward with large steps though he appeared to be graceful, fluid even in his stride.

Pausing to survey each and every one of them, Riddle took his position at the head of the table and waited for silence before he spoke. It came almost at once without him asking.

"You are all here because you have been qualified to the second round of the Dueling Competition," he stated and heads nodded. "It will commence tomorrow and thus the details will be released today. A group dueling will be the formation for the second round."

Whispers broke out almost immediately as everyone started discussing the possibilities of their group members.

"Will we get to choose our group members, Professor?" a Hufflepuff girl asked, her hands twisting her hair nervously.

Riddle took his time to answer, savoring the undivided attention they casted on him. And if Harry was right, the answer would just about be –

"No, it has been assigned." Sighs met those words. "Sixteen students have made it into the second round of the Dueling Competition. You have been separated into two distinct groups which means a total of eight per group. The rules are simple: the group with the most number of people standing on the arena after fifteen minutes wins, but with a catch: no disillusionment charms are to be used. You will rely on skill alone."

Harry glared at the Professor from his seat, having a sinking suspicion that the last sentence was meant for him. And he had been thinking of casting a concealment charm over himself whilst the rest of the people fought it out amongst themselves, but no matter.

"But Professor," a gangly Gryffindor said. Harry's eyes widened when he realized that it was Ronald Weasley from Gryffindor, having had no idea how he had managed to pass the first round and into the second. Had his opponent stunned himself? He chuckled slightly at that preposterous but possible idea. "This arrangement is unfair if a skilled player is grouped with imbeciles."

The youngest Weasley apparently had no idea the impact of his words, but the students did. If glares could kill, Weasley would have been dead six feet under. Harry himself resisted the urge to snort, bewildered as to how the redhead could find it himself to raise such this question in such a matter. The accomplishment of the first round might have gotten into his head, he decided.

But Riddle's words were surprising. "There will be a special exception awarded for the last man standing of the opposing team. The Professors have concluded that in such cases, the sole talent from the failing team would carry onto the next round. But this will also mean that the weakest player in the winning team would be disqualified."

More gasps and protests met the words, though Harry felt oddly contented. His eyes wandered over to Riddles and resisted the urge to scoff when he saw the blatant amusement in those crimson eyes, almost boredom at the childish concerns of the students. He sometimes wondered why he felt so… alike to Riddle in their ways and mannerisms.

"Quiet down," Riddle hissed at last, his wand waving in the air majestically and silence was granted.

"The first group: Draco Malfoy, Daphne Greengrass, Terry Boot, Antony Goldstein, Cassius Lont, Sue Adams and Zacharias Smith." There was the sound of immediate relief from the few students. Harry dreaded what was to come, wincing. "And the rest of you are in the second, consisting of Padma Patil, Ronald Weasley, Sarah Devel, Treton McDarvey, Hannah Abbott, Theodore Nott and Harry Potter." Harry saw Theodore Nott groan from the front and he could not help but do the same internally.

He was stuck with Ronald Weasley and other students that were no match against the first group. Though he hated to admit it, Zacharias Smith was a rather talented wizard, while Goldstein, Adams and Greengrass were fairly decent. Draco himself had been trained by the best and was certainly a formidable opponent. Whereas he had… Abbott – he distinctly remembered a fluke with her win – and Weasley. Devel and Nott were not going to make a fool of themselves, but against Greengrass and Goldstein, he couldn't see their victory.

Merlin. He wondered who set the arrangement, but the smug look on Riddle's eyes told him who. Riddle seemed to have felt vicious eyes stabbing his back and turned to him, the faint gleam in his eyes bordering on excitement as he was challenged to take the top spot despite the unfavorable condition.

Giving one hard and long stare, Harry willed himself to take the crown.

He would be damned if he let Riddle get away with his wishes…


He was running side by side with the tall figure disguised in a black cloak. Their feet pounded at the floor, breaths misty as they fought to go faster. Shouting; more shouting echoed from behind them as those imbeciles caught up with them. Why were they even here? Harry fought hard to remember but nothing came to him. Frustrated, he propelled himself forward.

"Run, run, run!" the man cried, hurrying him over and over. "You have to leave! Go!" he urged, both hands pushing him.

He nodded, turned and paused for a miniscule second, their eyes meeting before he bit his lip in decision and continued to move forward… He would be okay, Harry knew that. Right now, he just had to get himself out of here first, like what he said… It would be okay… He had said so, promised him so...

As he rounded off the corner, there was a loud thud from behind, the sound of a body falling. Unable to resist, Harry turned, his eyes widening in fear and anger at the sight before him.

A pale, limp body.

"SIRIUS!"

Panting, Harry took in deep breaths as he sat up, sweating slightly from the dream. Rubbing his eyes uncomfortably while trying to calm his racing heart, he got out of the bed and got dressed, refusing to dwell on that nightmare. That was all it was. A nightmare.

The night was cold and dark; he was sure it was sometime around three o'clock in the morning. There was something about the dream that unsettled him greatly, at the back of his mind yet he could not put his finger to it. The urgency and his lack of knowledge was making him edgy.

Casting a glance towards the book that lay on his table, he debated briefly whether he would do a bit of a late night reading before deciding otherwise. Maybe he would go out and visit the grounds of Hogwarts… maybe he would. The idea sounded tempting.

Peering around and satisfied that none of the other wizards in the room were awake, he crept out of the dorm and was relieved to find an empty common room. The common room was strewn with broken quills and empty ink bottles with spare parchment littered around, showing that the house elves had not yet gotten round to clearing them for the next day. Casting a disillusionment charm, he set along down the corridors of Hogwarts.

He had not known how he had made his way, but two hours later, he found himself at the Entrance Hall, his feet taking him towards the direction of the grounds of Hogwarts. The past two hours had been spent quietly with his thoughts alone as he walked around the grand castle like he had never done before. It was strange how much different Hogwarts looked in the night; dark and silent in contrast to the hustle and bustle during the days.

Strolling along with his heart finally calmed, Harry found a large, comfortable looking tree and settled down beneath it. It was near the lake and he was at peace while he leaned back and watched the serene scenery, the gentle breezing tickling his hair. Over the horizon, dawn was slowly approaching, indicating the start of a new day and the second round of the Dueling Competition.

His eyes closed slowly as he drifted in and out of consciousness, though the dream replayed at the back of his mind persistently. He refused to think about it, choosing instead to feel the soft breeze playing at the edges of his face, willing his eyes to close and his consciousness to fade…

But morning came far too soon. Heart feeling unusually unwilling to leave, he stood up and dusted his robes. By now, the sun was up and the castle of Hogwarts looked alive. The students would have woken up and gone about their daily activities, most probably congregated at the Great Hall in lieu of the competition.

Sighing, he combed a hand through his messy hair and attempted to straighten it slightly to look more presentable as he trudged up the steps and into the Great Hall. Almost immediately, his five senses were overwhelmed with the amount of activity there was as compared to down at the lake. Sharp voices rang incessantly and there was an excessive flurry of movement left right, everywhere.

Another tempus charm indicated that it was close to seven. The Dueling Competition would commence at eight which left him an hour to eat his breakfast. It seemed to fly by; absentmindedly as he was, not really taking in his surroundings. Everything seemed to pass as an indistinct blur to him today, but there was a great sense of trepidation that seemed to fill him. It had nothing to do with the second round, he was sure. Yet the feeling was there, like it had been right at the early morning.

Giving up on trying to decipher his raging emotions, he followed the rest of the students out of the Great Hall while the Professors set up the arena. This time, the students were not so fascinated but the tension was high, especially amongst the competitors. He noted that the first group was congregated amongst themselves, whispering urgently and possibly discussing tactics. He then realized that he had never really gotten around to formulating a plan with his group… but he caught sight of Ronald Weasley who was boasting happily to the other Gryffindors and changed his mind quickly.

There was the case of "special exception", anyway. That would be his life saver.

"Attention please! Gather round, immediately. Competitors, make your way to the front now." Professor McGonagall's irritated voice sounded loudly from within the Great Hall. Lots of pushing ensued as everyone fought to enter the Great Hall. Making a slight detour, Harry found his place at the front.

Waiting patiently as Professor McGonagall started explaining about the duel to the rest of the students, Harry took the time to observe the rest of the students. The members of the first group seemed to be slightly more relaxed and were all situated closely around Draco. Their positions were lose and informal, but it was clear who their leader was. Whereas… well, the second group didn't have a prayer of winning. However talented Harry was, he couldn't save all their worthless arses.

"Ready, eh? Bet you would be gone this time, Potter." A snide voice sounded from his left.

Resisting the urge to move away, Harry turned slowly and fixed the newcomer with a strong glare. The boy proved to be none other than Zacharias Smith, who seemed to have a way of getting on his nerves even more than the normal students. Smith was overly egoistic, proud, with average intelligence but an influential family… all traits that Harry couldn't bear. Especially the man's god-complex; while it might have seemed fitting on Riddle, Smith was nowhere close to possess such certainty and confidence.

He smirked. "If it makes you feel better."

Eyes widened slightly in anger. "You wouldn't dare," Smith hissed softly, taking a step closer but Harry held his hand up. "You're nothing against us." He snorted. "Everyone knows that your group is doomed to fail, no matter your ranking in Hogwarts. Bunch of Gryffindor nitwits."

"I heard…" Harry whispered softly and intrigued the curiosity of Smith who leaned closer. "I heard that your beloved group has an ongoing conspiracy to replace you with me for the third round." Smirking brilliantly now, Harry watched as Smith's face turned red, then purple in interesting stages before stomping off to confront the rest of his group.

Too easy, Harry thought. It was almost laughable and he could very nearly chuckle except for the intense look he saw Professor Riddle gave him. He tensed immediately and turned away, just as Professor McGonagall called for all the groups to enter the arena.

When they were standing in their positions, wand raised, Professor Riddle took over and commanded the situation.

"At the count of three, the timer for fifteen minutes starts counting down. You are clear of the rules and the catch so there will be no adjustments made. In three, two, one…"

Spells flashed in a haphazard manner from the members of the second group. In unison, Draco led the members of the first group to creating a shield charm, successfully deflecting the hexes and casting them back to them. Ducking instead of creating a charm, Harry rolled over and started firing hexes off.

He caught Terry Boot before the boy had a chance to turn and watched as he fell, surprise evident on his face. Not pausing, he turned around and quickly absorbed a stunning spell headed his way, his teeth bared slightly as his eyes narrowed in on the offender who proved to be Daphne Greengrass. Her eyes were alight in a clear challenge and Harry admired her. Abandoning the chase behind him, he leapt after her and proceeded to fire curses.

She was good, Harry had to admit it. Better than many of the others, and therein lay the challenge. Her strength lay in her unique combination of spells which she displayed during the first round with Pansy Parkinson. Twice she took him by surprise which he recovered quickly from.

"Stupefy! Incendio!" he shouted, ducking a flaming red light before shooting the two curses. He saw her twist her body in an attempt to duck them and saw his chance, jumping for it at once. She might have been a good opponent, but he was done playing with her, already itching for the next duel.

"Expelliar-" Daphne cried but she never finished her sentence as a jet of hose-like spray of water shot into her face with tremendous strength, knocking her backwards and soaking her robes completely wet.

"Stupefy," Harry waved his wand lazily and stunned the girl who was caught by surprise. Turning back, he paused for moments to absorb the status of the duel before him. In the few minutes that he had been dueling with Daphne far from the others, much had changed. About half the members of the second group were down, and all but two of the members of the first group were still up. To his surprise, Ronald Weasley was amongst the ones fighting, and though his curses never hit home, he was rather adept at dodging. Harry grunted and focused on the duel, looking for loopholes to target.

"Remember what you said, earlier?" the familiar nasal voice appeared from behind.

Tensing then spinning around and firing the tripping curse, Harry came face to face with Zacharias Smith who looked victorious from behind him. In his hand was two wands, proof of his previous victory.

"Let's see then." Smith continued, grinning while he stepped forward and swiftly brought his wand down with a cutting curse that was borderline lethal.

Swerving out of the way, Harry barely managed to avoid the next to curses and was the triumph in Smith's eyes. A sudden idea flared within him as he feigned weakness from his previous duel with Daphne, deliberately hunching his shoulders forward slightly and making a show of catching his breath, wand held loosely at his side and in his hand.

"Weak already?" Smith sneered, his wand raised high but not cursing. He scoffed at the half-hearted attempt Harry made at hexing him before deflecting it with a casual wave. "And they say you're a genius," he spat.

Was Zacharias sore? Harry grinned at the floor, sure that Smith couldn't see his expression. What a petty reason for getting all angry and temperamental at him… he certainly didn't want to see Smith in the round three, but he wanted to have his fun with the arrogant Hufflepuff.

"I… am… smart," Harry said, trying to sound tired as he pretended to struggle to his feet. The look of contempt and disgust evident on Smith's face proved that he had done it correctly and he mentally congratulated himself… for the boy's foolishness.

"Whatever," Smith said with an airy wave of his hand. Dark eyes stared into his for a moment. "You're not worth my time. All talk."

He certainly did sound sore, Harry mused but continued his act and took two steps back, well aware that he was at the edge of the platform.

"Weak," Smith continued, still advancing forward even as Harry casted a weak disarming charm that was absorbed easily. "Stupefy!" he cried, finally making his move to throw him off the platform.

Leaping forward, Harry collided with Smith as he narrowly avoided that red jet of light and caught the other boy unawares. There was a lot of jostling involved as they each fought to regain their control but Harry wouldn't have it, not until he was satisfied. Pulling his elbow back, he elbowed the Hufflepuff's face and heard his nose fracture with an audible crack, satisfying that inner being within him immensely. A garbled yell of pain and he shove the boy away from him, disgusted by his mere presence.

Pushing himself to an upright position, he sneered at the weak boy on the floor, their positions reversed from earlier on.

"Weak?" he whispered and leaned closer, grabbing Smith by his robes. "Wonder who said it," he could not help that smirk.

And he left the boy there, knowing that he was in too much pain to continue in the duel and would be disqualified by one of the teachers soon. He refused to grant the boy the pleasure of a stunning curse and being void of the pain until he was healed but it didn't mean …

"Expelliarmus," he said clearly as the two wands in Smith's hand flew towards him. The boy was in too much pain to realize what had happened and Harry snorted. Even though the wands would be returned to their masters after the end of the duel, it didn't mean he couldn't keep them for now.

Making his way back to the other end of the platform where the majority of the duelers were congregated, Harry noted that there was just four minutes of the duel left. With four members of the first group – Draco, Goldstein, Adams and Lont – standing and only him with Theodore Nott left, the winner of the duel was pretty much fixed.

Jogging over to where Nott was frantically trying to hold up against the four duelers, he sent more spells flying their way and joined in their fray. There was a deep set look of grim determination as Draco registered his presence and immediately targeted on him. The other three members followed his lead and turned their concentration to the new invader, the spells flying his way instead of Nott's. Praying that Theodore would live up to his Slytherin house and make use of the time while he was keeping the others distracted, Harry fired back spells of his own.

"Tredorna!" he shouted, the wand brandished in a complicated movement before opening a wide crater in the middle of the dueling platform. There were screams as the members of the first group tried to avoid the crater that had opened beneath their feet; the smarter ones were quick to jump or levitate themselves, but Adams was not so lucky, her feet slipping as she went down, crying weakly at the spectacular fall.

"Incendio!" Lont yelled, shouting the same spell over and over once he was on safe ground. "Incendio, Incendio!" Little fires started blazing around him and he quickly extinguished them together with Nott.

Another glance at the clock. Two minutes left.

"I'll take Nott and you finish Potter!" Lont screamed to Draco and Goldstein as he turned his curses to Theodore.

"Go," Harry urged, pushing the Slytherin away. "I'll be fine here."

"But –" Nott protested wildly, unwilling to move.

Harry paid him no heed as curses from Draco and Goldstein flew his way. He was conjuring mirrors and deflecting them, and wondering what he level he should take the duel up to when Nott's cry rang from behind him.

Spinning round, he saw that the boy had lost his concentration and slipped, the wand flying from his hand and into the crater that he had previously created. Even as Harry raised his wand to disarm Lont, he was too late for Nott's limp body was already falling to the ground the same instant as Lont's wand flew to him.

With four wands now within his grasp, there was a new sense of power and control. If he could just get to Goldstein, then there could be a tie. The professors hadn't mentioned about a tie, but it could definitely warrant an exception. And with all circumstances, this seemed like the best alternative he had if he didn't want to draw more attention to himself by blasting the other two off the platform with a borderline-legal curse he wasn't quite supposed to know of.

"You'll take left and I'll go right!" Draco hissed to Goldstein as they watch Lont limp off the platform in defeat.

Spells started gaining in on Harry; with less than a minute to go, they were attacking viciously whilst he defended himself and was restricted to simple stunning spells, trying to get under their shields.

"Velusa!" Goldstein cried, wand waving around wildly. There was a large black curtain that was conjured, quickly enveloping him. Recognizing what it was, a sudden idea came to him. Hurriedly dodging under those black folds, he ran underneath it and towards Goldstein, who had presumed he was lost within the maze of black.

Then he reappeared, head first then his wand arm. Never mind that the rest of his body was underneath the covers, because he just needed a shot at Goldstein, who was caught unawares as he jumped backwards.

"Stupefy," he said, watching in grim satisfaction as the light hit the target.

There was a second's pause before a loud buzzer sounded right on time, indicating the end of the tournament. Harry stood up, trying to regain his balance as he surveyed the destroyed arena; Adams was still inside the crater that looked impressive.

"It seems that…" Professor McGonagall stepped forward, catching the attention of the students whose head turned towards her. "We have a tie!"

There were more claps and hoots from the students who started shouting excitedly suggestions of who to bring to the next round. Trampling and jostling ensued as they fought to get a better look at the two remaining champions who were ushered down the platform. While waiting for the professors to come to a conclusion, Harry found himself next to Draco and decided to be the bigger man, congratulating the blond Draco for his performance.

"You did great. The Professors were proud of you," he said, watching Draco who looked slightly disappointed with himself.

Draco shook the fallen hair out of his face as his grey eyes stared into Harry's for a long time before he said quietly, "Not as well as you. You've managed to reverse the positions in such a short time, and they were four of us. If time had permitted…" he trailed off and there was not a need to finish the sentence. They both knew Draco would have fallen too.

He shrugged, not wanting to dwell further on the topic when the Malfoy heir was in low spirits.

Moving away, he saw that the Professors had already sorted out the winners and inched closer for a better look. Riddle whipped up a scroll of paper and strode forward confidently to the stage, all eyes automatically following his authoritative form.

"Due to the tie, there seems to be a change in the selections." Whispers filled the hall. "However, the Professors have acknowledged the better performance overall for the members of the first group, as well as the sole talent from the second group which allowed said group to achieve a tie. As such, we have decided to implement the case of a special exception."

"Professor!" Weasley cried from the crowd, agitated. Those around him elbowed him to silence.

Riddle ignored the outburst. "Those qualifying to the final round of the Dueling Competition would be Draco Malfoy, Antony Goldstein, Sue Adams, Cassius Lont, Zacharias Smith, Daphne Greengrass and Harry Potter."

Outraged whispers from the members of the second group sounded; in particular was Weasley who was shouting about his performance right down to the wonderful spells he had used in an attempt to outshine some of the finalists. Glancing over to Terry Boot – the sole member from the first group that did not qualify for the finals – he found the Ravenclaw to be crestfallen, though quietly so. The previous excitement had dimmed and he was looking morose, but with his friends around him comforting him.

Watching the students file out one by one, Harry took his time to gather his bag with all his books at the far end of the Hall right at the Ravenclaw table. By the time he had reached there, the only ones left in the Hall were a few stragglers and the Professors who looked to be still discussing about the match.

Turning, he sighed after remembering that the next class would be Defense against the Dark Arts and trudged in its general direction when a harried-looking Professor Dumbledore came striding quickly into the Great Hall. Curious, he paused and watched as Professor Dumbledore excused Riddle and Professor Flitwick before whispering urgently to them. Whatever that the Professor was concerned about seemed rather grave, and he looked to be in a hurry as well. Remembering that the Board of Directors was due to have a meeting that day after the conclusion of the Dueling Competition, Harry supposed that could be the reason why Dumbledore was in a rush.

He hadn't expected however, Riddle to nod curtly before turning directly to face him. And he certainly hadn't expected Riddle to walk over to him – Flitwick following behind quickly – before stopping. Over his shoulder, Dumbledore glanced at him, blue eyes filled with worry before he disappeared behind the oak doors, leaving him with an increasing sense of suspense.

"Professor Riddle?" Harry tried to keep his voice calm as he directed the question to Riddle; that niggling feeling of worry he felt since the morning returning tenfold. Dumbledore's worry and the urgency which seemed to concern him…. All this didn't seem to bode well.

"Mr Potter –" Professor Flitwick's higher pitched voice said anxiously but was interrupted by Riddle.

Cold crimson eyes bored into him for the longest time, assessing him before those lips parted.

"Sirius Black is dead."