- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT -

The Duel

His hand against the door, Dumbledore ignited the tip of his wand and the light flickered over the faded wood, throwing the scratches into view. Behind him, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter waited with bated breath, hardly daring to move for fear that they'd be discovered.

Inside the classroom, the voices grew louder, one harsh, one low and two horribly familiar.

"Marcus and Felicity!" whispered Remus, clutching James' arm.

James nodded, clutching Remus back, feeling Sirius and Peter pressing in on his other side.

Professor McGonagall stepped up beside Dumbledore. "Albus-" she began, but Dumbledore held up a hand. She fell silent and the Headmaster's hand inched towards the doorknob. The wand light shivered as he pushed the door open with a creek, but the occupants of the room did not hear him.

"-Have told you again and again!" snarled the harsh, brutish voice and James immediately recognised him as the stranger they'd heard torturing Professor Oden months ago. "You are not working hard enough!"

Oden's sob echoed off the walls and Dumbledore inched forwards. "Please - no! It won't happen again. I won't fail - please - I won't-"

"Don't lie!" came the harsh voice, and James pictured a stout man gripping a shaking wand. "The Dark Lord expects better than this! You will find out where Albus Dumbledore goes or we will see how well you can do it from the inside of a coffin."

"No," whispered Oden and the other man laughed nastily.

"Another dose of pain then. Maybe this one will knock the lesson into you - crucio!"

But as Oden screamed, the door crashed open. With a loud, splintering noise, Albus Dumbledore blasted his way into the room, his wand outstretched, his eyes blazing. James, still hidden beneath the cloak, suddenly realised the full extent of Dumbledore's greatness. He wasn't only a genius; he hadn't only discovered the twelve uses of dragon's blood and championed muggle-borns for decades. A fury radiated from the headmaster, so intense that it seemed to scorch the very air that swirled around them.

There was a split-second's pause, in which the man who towered above Oden managed to raise his wand, but then a 'crack' sounded through the room and the next thing James knew, the man was flying backwards, his limbs flailing. He crashed into the wall with a sickening crunch and moved no more.

"Expelliamus!" cried a female voice. Someone in the corner of the room was charging forwards. The boys caught a glimpse of curly hair and a flash of red and gold as Felicity Wood flung herself out of her hiding place at Dumbledore, Marcus right behind her.

James yelped out a warning, expecting Dumbledore's wand to fly out of his hand, but there was another crack and the two prefects were bound from head-to-toe in enchanted ropes which trapped them against the wall and formed a shimmering enclosure around them. While Professor McGonagall looked around for the source of the disembodied yell, her nostrils white, Dumbledore strode forwards to the very centre of the room, where Professor Oden still writhed and screamed. For the first time, James saw that the wardrobe behind him was open, that behind the doors was a stretch of empty blackness. It was a strange sort of passageway.

He gasped and nudged Sirius, but Professor McGonagall whipped around, looked directly at him and yanked the cloak from them all. Remus let out a moan of fright.

"Potter! What in the name of Merlin do you think you are doing?" The Transfiguration Professor shook with shock and fury, glaring at the four of them as they stood there quailing under her sharp eyes.

"Erm..." began James, feeling his cheeks burn.

"Of all the foolish things! Following the headmaster and me to a place like this! For goodness' sake, get behind me and if any of you so much as move, I will put you all in detention for the rest of your school career!"

Too excited to argue, James and Sirius glanced once at each other, then at their teacher. Professor McGonagall ushered them all to a corner of the corridor and they peered out from beneath her sheltering arm, each desperate to catch a glimpse of the action.

Dumbledore bent over Oden as they watched, his wand still at the ready, and Oden stirred on the floor, blinking his slivery eyes and groaning. "Octavius?"

The Cruciatus curse seemed to have thrown the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher off balance, strengthening the enchantments that were placed upon him. He climbed to his feet, a sense of purpose radiating from him, brushing down his robes and raising his wand. "Dumbledore. You have found me then?"

"I have," replied Dumbledore quietly, his blue eyes blazing.

From the doorway, Professor McGonagall took a couple of steps backwards so that the boys were completely concealed from view, shielding from the unknown or whatever it was that was about to happen. James made to pull the invisibility cloak out again and throw it over them all, but the Transfiguration teacher shook her head a fraction of an inch and whispered, "No. He'll hear you."

Dumbledore and Oden stared at each other for a good half a minute, and then Dumbledore spoke.

"It would be foolish of you to attempt to duel me, Octavius."

Oden did not lower his wand. "I could say the same to you, Dumbledore."

"Indeed, I do not deny that you are an outstanding wizard," said Dumbledore, still in the same quiet tone. "But you are under enchantments more terrible than you can imagine and I do not wish to hurt you."

"You won't be hurting me," said Oden. His voice, by contrast, was growing louder and louder. "Because I have reinforcements." And, his hand trembling, he made to roll up his left sleeve.

James couldn't help himself; he gasped. Branded into the skin was the strange tattoo, the one Peter had seen Oden gazing at while outside Dumbledore's office. Angry-red, harsh and offensive, it sneered up at Dumbledore - a skull with a snake pouring from the mouth.

"The Dark Mark," murmured Dumbledore, as Oden raised a quivering finger and held it inches from the tattoo. "It is what I was afraid of. Voldemort's supporters have used you ill, Octavius, but I was a simpleton not to suspect you before. I have been out of school for far too long. It is time I came back and made amends."

"It's too late," said Oden, his eyes locked on Dumbledore. "My fellows will come and you will be killed. The Dark Lord will finally seize power and the Wizarding World will be ruled by a worthy leader."

Dumbledore raised his wand even higher, pointing it at Oden's chest. "No," he said simply. "I'm afraid it won't."

"You're wrong, Dumbledore." Oden's wand, too, rose higher. James saw his eyes search Dumbledore's face, apparently thinking fast, deciding what spell would serve best in the battle to come. "Incendio maxima!"

The four boys yelled as a ring of fire erupted from Professor Oden's wand, circling Dumbledore, scorching the hem of his robes, licking the carpet, turning the furniture to dust- And then it was gone, transformed by Dumbledore into a cloud of ash, which flew at Oden and engulfed him, forcing him back against the wall... Then the ash became a sword, which flung itself across the room, its point glittering with malice. But Dumbledore was quicker and the sword flew back at Oden, crashing into the wall and disappearing behind Oden's stunned accomplice.

James saw Oden brandishing his wand again and a series of golden rockets flew from its tip, scattering in all directions, flying through the air like a sheath of lethal arrows. One was soaring towards them and James felt a moment of terror before someone grabbed him and pulled him to the ground-

BANG!

James and the others looked up, choking. They were half-buried in dust, submerged in the wreckage of what had previously been a fully functioning corridor. Professor McGonagall removed her hand from James' arm, coughing as she pulled herself upright. Beside her, Remus, Sirius and Peter were also getting to their feet, covered in dust too, but otherwise unscathed.

"Are you all right?" breathed Professor McGonagall, waving her wand so that the dust vanished. "You should never have followed us here. I don't know what you were thinking, but-" She pulled them out of harm's way again as more jets of light soared towards them and the tension of the duel tightened.

Dumbledore and Oden were still battling in the centre of the room, circling each other like birds of prey, their wands moving so fast that they looked blurred. Peter groaned and sunk to the ground, overcome by the sight, but James, Sirius and Remus remained standing, their mouths open, cheered by the fact that Oden seemed to be tiring.

At last, as Dumbledore sent a ripple of cold air flying around the room, Professor Oden collapsed, curling in the dust with his hands over his face. The Imperius Curse seemed to have broken.

Breathing heavily, Dumbledore lowered his wand, crossed the room and helped Oden to his feet. Gone was Oden's sense of purposefulness, gone was his exaggerated scattiness; he now looked like a man who had been put through hell and had survived by mere fluke.

"Albus-"

"Are you all right?" asked Dumbledore quietly, as Professor Oden slumped against his shoulder.

The corners of Oden's lips twitched. "I've been better."

"What happened?" Dumbledore pressed. "They ambushed you? Forced you into joining Lord Voldemort?"

Oden screwed up his face as he tried to remember. "The last thing I remember doing was going into the Hog's Head to meet you for an interview. I had a couple of drinks, then decided to use the bathroom. I went through the door and someone jumped out at me and- Well, I suppose that's when they cast the Imperius curse. I don't remember doing anything else until just now."

"So whoever cast the curse must've been in the bathroom. Hmm..." Dumbledore's eyes swept the room and landed on Professor McGonagall, who was still standing in front of the four boys as though to shield them from more spells. "Minerva, you may take the boys up to my office. I see they have disobeyed my orders, although I cannot say I am surprised. I will be with you in a minute."

Professor McGonagall nodded, tightening her grip on James' sleeve. "Of course, headmaster. Come with me, you four-" She pushed them all in front of her and ushered them down the ruined corridor, raising her wand to fix the damage as they went.

James' mind was still reeling from the excitement of the battle. Who was Lord Voldemort? Did the mysterious Dark wizard have a name at last? He glanced back over his shoulder at the classroom as he left. Professor Oden had almost pressed the tattoo on his arm. What would have happened if he'd touched it? What had he meant by 'reinforcements'? They were at the stone gargoyle guarding Professor Dumbledore's office before James had even scratched the surface of his tumultuous thoughts.

"Sugar quill," said Professor McGonagall shakily and the gargoyle leapt aside. She led them up the spiral staircase, rapped on the griffin knocker and let them into the office. The circular room full of delicate silver instruments greeted them. Fawkes the phoenix slept on his perch in a corner, and the portraits around the walls opened their eyes and yawned as they saw the newcomers.

Phineas Nigellus took one look at Sirius and stretched his long, silk-gloved fingers. "And what has my great-great-grandson done this time?" he asked, causing Sirius to scowl at him and Professor McGonagall to shoot him a withering look.

"Not now, Phineas."

"Very well." Haughtily, Sirius' great-great-grandfather stalked out of his portrait, leaving an empty stretch of canvas behind him.

Sirius' scowl didn't fade as Professor McGonagall led them into four conjured chairs in front of the desk and sat down to wait for Dumbledore. James did not know how many minutes it was until the Headmaster finally appeared, smiling serenely at them as he swept through the door.

"I believe Professor Oden will make a full recovery," he said calmly, conjuring up a sixth chair and sitting down at the desk behind Professor McGonagall. "He is weak, but he should be back on his feet in no time."

"Who's Lord Voldemort, professor?" asked James, looking up at the headmaster, desperate for an answer.

Professor Dumbledore sighed and steepled his fingers together. "He is known to many as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Dark Lord or You-Know-Who," he said. "He is, I believe, the Dark wizard behind all these attacks, the wizard who is responsible for the Dark Mark - the tattoo - on Professor Oden's arm."

"Can't you get rid of it, sir?" asked Sirius, frowning.

"No," said Dumbledore. "And even if I could, I wouldn't. It could come in handy."

James was surprised at the note of triumph which wormed its way into Dumbledore's tone. "What do you mean?"

Dumbledore smiled. "That tattoo is no ordinary tattoo," he explained. "My sources tell me that Voldemort brands it onto the arms of his followers as a means of communication between them. When he touches the Mark, they must fly immediately to his side. If Oden has it on his arm, he might be able to spy on them for us in the future."

"My cousin has it on her bedroom wall," said Sirius.

There was a slight pause. "Yes," said Dumbledore gently. "I am sure she does."

"So my family is in league with a Dark wizard?" asked Sirius, his mouth slightly open.

"Does that surprise you?" asked Dumbledore lightly and James watched Sirius' mouth harden into a line.

"No."

Dumbledore smiled again and James was struck by another thought.

"Professor, where have you been going when you've been leaving school this year? And what's going to happen to Marcus and Felicity?"

"Ah," said Dumbledore, studying their inquisitive faces. "I'm afraid I cannot tell you where I've been going. But I'm sure you will learn in due course."

"We will?" asked Remus, surprised, and Dumbledore looked at him.

"Yes, Mr Lupin. I'm sure you will."

"Does it-? Does it have anything to do with Voldemort, professor?" asked James.

Dumbledore peered over his half-moon spectacles and James had the odd feeling that his soul was being scrutinised. "Yes," he said simply. "It has rather a lot to do with Lord Voldemort. As for Miss Wood and Mr Meldrew, I believe they will both make a speedy recovery. They have been used dreadfully and seem to have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but no lasting damage has been done to their memories. I believe Professor Oden needed lookouts and, naturally, prefects would've been the most convenient option."

"There was something strange about them, though," said James, frowning as he remembered seeing them arguing.

"Yeah," squeaked Peter, looking amazed at his own daring. "They kept acting strangely. Felicity seemed upset. And she tried to stun Marcus at one point."

Dumbledore smiled dryly. "Yes, Mr Meldrew seems to have been seeing another girl at the same time as Miss Wood. Not the most sensible course of action, I agree, but they seemed to have resolved their argument now."

Professor McGonagall shifted uncomfortably. "Albus, I don't think you should be sharing confidential-"

But Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. "You owe me ten Galleons, Minerva. Did I not tell you that they would stabilise their relationship in the end?"

McGonagall looked even more uncomfortable but said nothing.

Sirius and Peter stared at Dumbledore in amazement. "Marcus and Felicity are dating?" asked Sirius.

Peter began to splutter. "But- But- They seemed to hate each other!"

"Hate and love are not always so different," replied Dumbledore, smiling at the look on their faces. "In fact, you cannot have one without the other. Poor Miss Wood grew tired of running after Marcus and tried to make him see sense. Fortunately, he seems to have done so. Well, then-" Dumbledore sat up straight and looked at them all. "I think that concludes our little interview. "Fifty points to Gryffindor for sheer bravery, but you had better go off and enjoy the dry weather."

"Erm, one last question," said James, remembering that he had something else he wanted to know. "What was going on with that wardrobe?"

"Ah," said Dumbledore. "My logic tells me that it was a passageway, maybe a portal or a vanishing cabinet. Where it leads to, I do not know, but I believe Professor Oden would press the Mark and call the Death Eater I stunned into the castle using it. An efficient way of checking that Oden was doing his job properly. Poor Octavius." He sighed, then clapped his hands together, smiling. "Well, then, I won't keep you for any longer. I shall see that the vanishing cabinet is made unusable in future. Good day to you."

"Thanks, professor," said James, standing up, still feeling dazed. He made for the door, Peter, Remus and Sirius following, tucking in their chairs as they went. He looked back at the top of the spiral staircase; McGonagall was discreetly passing the Headmaster a handful of gold beneath the table.

A/N:

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed the chapter :)

~ Lacy