Harry Potter and The Scholar of Mystery

by Matt of Ravenclaw

A re-make of Goblet of Fire, Harry and Hermione meet a mysterious Ravenclaw seemingly forgotten from history. Together, the three will face a threat that could destroy all of reality!

9. Walking Dangerous Lines

(Stretching his arms and legs before getting ready to type) Ah! Nothing like a little flexing of the muscles and bones to get your personal muse up and ready to roll. With any luck, I can keep this chapter under 10,000 words (although judging from my two previous chapters, that possibility is becoming less and less likely). Be that as it may, welcome to Chapter 9 of Harry Potter and The Scholar of Mystery. Young women in the throws of pubescent behavior should be excited about this chapter because Sirius is making his first appearance. I don't understand what women see in Sirius Black. Maybe I'm just jealous of all the attention a fictional character receives. Sad, but most likely true.

Disclaimer: I don't Harry Potter, I don't Hermione Granger, I don't own Peter Pettigrew, I don't own Macnair, hell, I don't own anybody! Depressing, but again, true.

Chapter Nine- Walking Dangerous Lines

After the end of the second task, Harry was expecting a bit of a break from the negative limelight that had surrounded him since the start of the Triwizard Tournament. After all, he tied with Viktor Krum in the first task and was on the top of the leader board going into the third and final test. He had proven that he was a more than worthy contender for the Triwizard cup, even if he didn't willingly enter himself in the contest. Yep, Harry would be the toast of the school for the rest of the term, no doubt about it.

"If it isn't Potty and his little scraggly-haired girlfriend!"

"I can't wait to see you crash and burn in the third task, Potter!"

"When is the wedding date set? I'll make sure to buy a present!"

Harry definitely should have known better.

"Why don't you shove off Malfoy before I use that pile of straw on your head for a paintbrush," Matt scoffed as he walked alongside Harry and Hermione.

"Don't be upset, Matt," Malfoy said slyly. "I'm just responding to the things I see! There's no need to get angry about it."

Draco Malfoy was having the time of his life ever since Harry and rescued Hermione and Gabrielle Delacour from the bottom of the lake. After all, the job of the second task was to rescue the thing that you would miss the most, and that thing for Harry certainly wasn't Gabrielle! Along with Hermione being Harry's company for The Yule Ball and now nearly everyone assumed that the he and Hermione were now an item, a concept that provided a limitless number of snide remarks and jokes for the fair-haired Slytherin.

Matters only became worse when Rita Skeeter made her report about the second task, which focused almost entirely on Harry's "gallant" rescue of Hermione Granger, whom she called "the keeper of Harry's heart". Viktor earned his fair share of attention with his transfiguration efforts while Cedric was hardly even mentioned, which caused many of the Hufflepuffs to either shy away from him or just be rude altogether.

"Would you like me to be your best man, Potter?" Malfoy said as a group of Slytherins hung on his every word. "That way you can save yourself some money by not hiring someone to stand next to you during the ceremony!"

Even the normally calm and collected Harry was ready to attack Malfoy after one week of similar "conversations" with the Slytherin seeker, but Hermione and Matt were somehow able to keep him calm.

"Just ignore them, Harry," Hermione shrewdly whispered as she gave a glare to Pansy Parkinson that could freeze molten lava. "Now's not the time to stoop to their level."

"Besides," Matt said as the three students walked by the flock of Slytherins, "we can always set fire to Malfoy anytime we want to." Harry laughed at that.

"That's hardly the kind of payback I had in mind," Hermione said flatly.

However, the one resident of Hogwarts who reveled in the recent events the most was none other than Severus Snape. The Slytherin headmaster seemed to make it a daily routine to point out Harry and Hermione's "affections" for one another, even taking time out of his lessons one day to read the Rita Skeeter article out loud to the class, much to the joy of the Slytherins. He also made certain that the two friends were no longer allowed to work on their assignments together.

"There are already too many caustic things bubbling about in my classroom," Snape said as he nearly shoved Harry across the classroom over to Neville Longbottom's table. "The last thing I need is prepubescent affection mixed in with it." Neville, to his credit, tried his hardest to hide under his table to avoid Snape's acrid tongue. Like Harry, the clumsy Gryffindor was a frequent target of Snape's verbal lashings.

Harry spent the rest of the class mashing and cutting his potions ingredients with furious anger, pretending that each scarab beetle and root of garlic was the potions master himself. The black-haired Gryffindor was searching through every fiber of his mind to remember how he produced that electric field that he had used on the grindylows. He would have liked seeing the look on Snape's face as several thousand volts of electricity plunged into his body.

Harry's rather dark thoughts were interrupted by a panicky shriek from Neville as his Wit-Sharpening Potion began to boil over the tip of his cauldron and spill out onto the floor.

'Maybe now's not the time for something like this,' Harry thought sourly as he used his wand to control the bubbling cauldron while trying to guess how many points Snape would take off for this one.

"Don't you think you're being a little hard on Harry, Professor Snape?" Matt asked as he scooped up the ashes of a recently burned branch of an oak tree and threw it into his cauldron.

"Can you give me a reason why I shouldn't be, Mr. McGonagall?" Snape asked coldly while his night- black eyes bored into him. "He's a nasty little boy who considers rules to be beneath him."

"And you're a codgery old professor who insults his students so he can ignore his life's failures and provide catharsis for an abysmal repentance," Matt said as the contents of his cauldron turned almost milky white. Snape stopped his work to stare at the sharp-tongued Ravenclaw for a moment before responding. Finally, the potions master shrugged his shoulders and continued to work.

"We all have our roles," the sallow-faced man said. There was a brief bit of silence in the potions dungeon before Snape continued. "So, is the rumor true?"

Now it was Matt's turn to cease his potions making and look annoyed. "What rumor?"

"Potter and Granger, of course. I hope that the time that you've been spending with them hasn't dulled your already abysmal intelligence."

"They're just friends, Professor," Matt answered sharply as he went to work cutting a dragon's liver. "Besides, why on earth should I tell you if they were romantically involved? You'd have a field day with it!"

"Why do you think I asked, Mister McGonagall," Snape said with a smirk as he calmly stirred the contents within his own cauldron. Matt sighed in frustration as he prepared several large bottles and began to distribute a sizable portion of the now-completely clear potion into each.

"Is there a reason that we're making Veritaserum?" Matt asked as he held up one of the bottles to the light of one of the torches.

"Allow me to remind you that this is your detention assignment," Snape said coldly as he too began to distribute the potion evenly. "You are not here to ask questions about what you are doing, you are simply here to do what I command of you."

Someone had managed to sneak a Dungbomb into Ernie McMillan's cauldron during a previous potions class, causing much of the class to run away screaming as the walls were covered with a gooey, orange substance that was supposed to create afterimages of the person who drinks it. Since neither of the Weasley twins were present during the chaotic proceedings, Snape had assumed that Matt had performed the mischievous deed through the simple matter of process of elimination. He had received three days of detention from Professor Flitwick and Snape was more than happy to allow him to serve his sentence making potions. After all, Snape was still trying to pay for the damages that had occurred to his possessions on New Years Eve and he could use the extra money he got from the potions that he and Matt made during the evenings.

"As if you have any right to know," Snape said as he topped each of the beakers of Veritaserum with a solid-black stopper. "The Defense Ministry is seeking Death Eaters once again concerning the incidents at the Quidditch World Cup and they need these potions for interrogations. Perhaps I can use one of these on Mister Potter, perhaps. Could draw up a veritable mountain of interesting information, don't you think?"

Matt couldn't help but pale at the idea, not to mention the almost sinister grin that Snape had on his face as he suggested it. Indeed, he was certain that the Ministry would be quite happy to learn about many of the secrets that were stored in Harry's head. The theft of gillyweed was a good one, as was his role in freeing Buckbeak just moments before his execution. Of course, the biggest one would be the whereabouts of Harry's godfather, whom was still being hunted by the Aurors. He suspected that the potions master was bluffing, but you could never really tell with Snape. Instead of outrage, Matt decided to stick with sarcasm.

"They're trusting a former Death Eater to catch other Death Eaters?" Matt said as he raised an eyebrow in interest.

"It appears that it is the only way that those idiotic, ineffectual Aurors can ever do anything right," Snape said irritably. Matt was about to comment on that but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down to the dungeons. Snape grimaced in frustration as he recognized the boots that made the click-clack noise on the stone steps as well as the boots' owner.

'Speak of the devil,' Snape thought as Igor Karkaroff entered the dungeon. The headmaster of Durmstrang was looking paler even for him. Beads of nervous sweat were trickling down his brow. In his six months at Hogwarts, Karkaroff had made a considerable number of enemies and critics due to his policies towards the Dark Arts and foreign relations. He didn't even notice Matt as Karkaroff made his way straight to the Potions Master.

"Something I can help you with Igor," Snape said, his infamous icy tone all too prevalent in his voice.

"Why have you been ignoring me, Severus?" Karkaroff said almost frantically. "I really need to talk to you about this!"

"And just what could be so urgent that it couldn't wait until the morning?" Snape hissed softly, causing Karkaroff to nearly slink away from him. "I've finished my dealings here and I would like to rest. Unlike you, I have responsibilities to keep."

"Don't give me that!" Karkaroff shouted with what Matt assumed he thought was angry defiance. It sounded more like the plea of a scolded dog to him, however. "You know very well what I'm talking about!" Karkaroff said as he pulled up the left-hand sleeve of his robe. "This!"

Matt didn't need to see Karkaroff's arms to know what was on there. It was the Dark Mark, the sign of Voldemort himself. He had seen the same mark on Snape's left forearm and knew more about the significance of the marking than either Harry or Hermione.

'So he is a Death Eater!' Matt thought as his eyes widened a bit in surprise. 'Learn something new every day around here!' Karkaroff was continuing to fluster and bumble his words as Snape looked at the mark impassively.

"The mark is nearly glowing, Severus!" Karkaroff said as he shook the pale skin at Snape. "It hasn't been this clear since. . ."

"Since when, Professor Karkaroff?" Matt asked cheekily as he planted his feet on a desk and crossed his legs. Karkaroff was nearly white as a sheet as he stared at the smiling Ravenclaw, who gave him a polite wave as an added bonus.

"Severus," Karkaroff faltered as his eyes whirled back and forth from Snape to Matt. "Why didn't you tell me you had company!"

"Did you have your peripheral vision removed as a child or are you just an unbelievable fool?" Snape said evenly with his arms crossed. The Durmstrang headmaster couldn't even manage an answer as he stared straight into Matt's glowing smile.

"Perhaps you would like to meet at a later time to discuss these manners, Igor?" Snape asked him, speaking as though he were addressing a child. Karkaroff hastily bundled up his cloak and began to walk slowly out of the room muttering in what Matt assumed to be in an affirmative manner. It took quite a bit of inner strength to prevent him from laughing out loud as Karkaroff tripped over the first step and nearly fell flat on his face. Matt finally spoke a good thirty seconds after Karkaroff took his first step out of the dungeon.

"They'll give anyone a headmaster position these days, won't they?"

"Apparently," Snape mumbled as he started to clean up his cauldron. "Your business here is concluded, Matt. You may return to your dormitory."

"Any chance I can ask you why Karkaroff would want to speak to you about the Dark Mark, Professor?"

"Leave, Mister McGonagall."

"It was worth a shot," Matt said cheerfully as he dashed up the steps and made his way to the owlery. He had said he would go down to see if Sirius had left a letter for them concerning the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend. He was stopped by Mrs. Norris, whom he bent down to pet for a bit before continuing his business on the castle grounds.

The owlery was always quite a lively place at midnight, as over two hundred of the nocturnal flyers zoomed about in the expansive space that was given to them. Tawnys and barn owls all hooted and pecked away at their daily food rations while Matt walked to one side of the far side of the owlery to check the incoming letters. He was met at the depository by a familiar snowy-white owl that hooted brightly and gave an affectionate nip to the young man's finger.

"Nice to see you too, Hedwig," Matt said as he handed Harry's elegant owl a piece of bread and smoothed over the bird's back feathers with a swipe of his spare hand. After a brief bit of searching, Matt did indeed find a letter for Harry, a wrinkled brown envelope with no writing upon it except for Harry's name. Matt used his left hand to tear open the envelope and pull out an equally scraggy piece of paper. A large coffee stain dominated the upper-left side of the document and the handwriting upon it looked to have been written on the ground.

"Meet me at the end of High Street, past Dervish and Banges at 12:30 on Saturday," the note read. "Please bring food. Signed, Snuffles."

Hedwig was holding her hind leg out expecting to be sending a letter out. 'Poor thing,' Matt said as he could see the look of anticipation in the owl's eyes. 'I wouldn't like to be cooped up in here either.'

"Sorry, pal," Matt said he continued to stroke Hedwig's hind feathers. "I don't have any letters for you to send out, but I can give you another slice of bread to share with your buddies. How does that sound?"

Hedwig looked clearly disappointed at the lack of action she's had since the first task. Harry didn't want to use her out of the risk that she would draw attention. Matt resolved that he would give her some jobs to do as she took the bread in her beak and fluttered back up to the top of the barn. Once Hedwig was out of sight, Matt looked back at the letter with a huge grin on his face.

"I'm finally going to meet Padfoot," he said to the owls.

The owls didn't bother to reply.

"I'm gonna meet Padfoot! I'm gonna meet Padfoot! I'm gonna meet Padfoot!" Matt said as he skipped down the streets of Hogsmeade alongside Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Spring was finally starting to emerge in the wizarding tourist trap and the slightest bits of green could be seen peeking through the last of the winter snow. Although the Ravenclaw was carrying a bag that had several whole chickens, numerous loafs of bread, and two flasks of pumpkin juice, the physical burden didn't seem to bring him down in the slightest.

"Try not to make too much of a fool of yourself, Matt." Hermione commented, a rolled up copy of The Daily Prophet wound tightly in her hands.

"I still don't know why Snuffles is taking such a big risk," Harry said frustrated, making sure to use his godfather's pseudonym else someone heard him. "I don't know what I'd do if he got caught!"

"Don't worry about it, Harry!" Ron said as he stretched his lanky arms. "It's not like dementors are crawling around Hogsmeade anymore. He's as safe as he could be."

"I've been trying to beat your godfather's record for most detentions for years now, Harry!" Matt said, his eyes sparkling in anticipation. "Thanks for letting me come along! This is going to be so cool!"

"Don't mention it, Matt," Harry said as he shook his head at Matt's childlike exuberance. Truth be told, he was quite anxious to see his godfather as well and it was all he could do to start jumping up and down and cavorting about like his brown-haired friend.

It didn't take long for the four students to pass by the Hogsmeade border and make their way to the edge of the rocky hills and mountains that encircled the wizard village. They ultimately came to a stop at the foot of a tall, oak tree where a large, hirsute black dog was resting under the shade. Wagging its tail, the dog stood up on its four legs and seemed to smile at Harry as it scooped up a newspaper with his mouth and trotted forward.

"Hello, Sirius," Harry said with a broad grin.

The dog was too busy staring at Matt to respond to his godson's greeting. He was looking at the unfamiliar face with quite a deal of suspicion.

"This is Matt McGonagall," Hermione said, seemingly reading the look in the dog's eyes. "Don't worry, Sirius. You can trust him."

The dog, seemingly quite relieved by Hermione's assurances, sniffed Matt's bag eagerly, its tail wagging like an out-of-control metronome. Matt chuckled as he eagerly scratched the top of the dog's head, which the creature took quite a liking to before turning away and jogged off into the mountains.

"I think she's trying to tell us something, momma!" Matt said, no longer being able to resist the joke. "She wants us to follow her!"

"Shut up, Timmy." Hermione said flatly as she began to stalk up the mountain with Harry and Ron right on her heels.

It took a half-hour of solid walking to reach Sirius' hideout a hundred feet above the mountain. Harry, Matt, and Hermione, due to their recent physical training, was able to handle the steep and winding pass quite easily while Ron seemed to be entirely out of the breath for the last fifteen minutes of the trek.

"Wouldn't it have been simpler to just talk under the tree?" Ron asked as he held onto a large boulder while he caught his breath once again.

"No pain, no gain," Matt said simply, wincing in pain as the heavy straps of his knap sack cut into his shoulders. "Get moving, Weasley."

They finally reached a narrow fissure at the top of the mountain path that looked to have been expanded a bit recently. The black dog beckoned them inside with a loud bark and the four magicians soon managed to squeeze into the crevice. The arrival of the sun didn't seem to have effect on the cave's atmosphere, a cool breeze was blowing through every slight crack and cranny in the rocks. A rather large horse-like creature was tied to a rock at the back end of the cave, calmly beating its wings.

"Harry! Take a look!" Matt said as he tapped Harry on the shoulder excitedly. "Isn't that Buckbeak?"

The half gray horse, half giant eagle stared at the students with a look of familiarity in its fiercely bright orange eyes. Buckbeak was a hippogriff that Matt and the others met at the beginning of third year. Matt, being a lover of animals, took to the majestic creatures immediately and was quite angry when he found out that Buckbeak was to be executed for injuring Draco Malfoy. He was overjoyed when he read that the creature had escaped from its' own execution but was also wondering where the hippogriff had run off to. He was happy he found his answer as he gave a polite bow to the massive creature before rushing over to stroke its' feathery neck and back. Buckbeak, happy to see another familiar face, cawed happily at Matt's ministrations.

The noise the hippogriff was making completely covered the small pop as the large, shaggy dog disappeared from sight and a grizzled, middle-aged man in tattered gray robes appeared. The man's long black hair was equally untidy and looked like it hadn't been washed or cared for in weeks. The man's beard was hardly as expansive or messy as Hagrid's, but it was impressive nonetheless. Upon seeing him, Matt let go of Buckbeak for a moment and unzipped his knapsack to hand the man once of the chickens.

"Chicken!" Sirius said hoarsely as he dashed at the fine smelling food like a wild man. After ripping off a sizeable leg off the whole chicken, Sirius sat down Indian style and began to gnaw away.

"Been waiting for this for a week now," Sirius said with a grin he went about his work. "I can't steal too much food in Hogsmeade lest someone notices me." Matt was a bit taken back by the man's behavior, hardly expecting the sight of a frazzled middle-aged man wolfing down food like an animal.

"It's an, um, honor to meet you, sir." Matt said softly, his head slightly bowed. Sirius stared at the young man a little bit and smiled brightly.

"So you're Minerva's grandson," Sirius said brightly. "You've grown up quite a bit, young man."

Matt's eyes were wide. "You've met me before?"

"Nothing big," Sirius responded, shrugging his shoulders as he tossed a chicken bone to Buckbeak, who began to crunch it violently with its sharp jaws. "I was at your first birthday party. You somehow managed to dump your birthday cake on your grandmother's head. You should have seen the look on her face."

"Wonderful," Matt said blushing while Ron and Hermione sniggered. Sirius merely patted Matt's shoulders as he stood up, grabbing a slice of bread from the knapsack.

"Don't worry about it," Sirius said. "From what I've read from Harry's letters, I owe you quite a bit for watching over my godson. Your parents would be quite proud of you."

Matt's hazel eyes flashed briefly. "Thank you very much, Mister Black."

Sirius gave the Ravenclaw a reassuring grin as he turned back to his godson. The grin on Black's face was tremendous in its enthusiasm.

"Why are you here, Sirius?" Harry said, trying his hardest to keep the concern and emotion out of his voice.

"Just fulfilling my duties as your godfather," he responded evenly, quite disappointed that Harry seemingly wasn't happy to see him. "After the entire goblet fiasco, I want to make certain I'm on the spot in case you're in danger. Looks like I'm not the only one that's concerned judging from what I've been reading."

Matt and Ron both walked over to a pile of yellowing newspapers, unfolding several of them and scanning them briefly.

"And what happens if you're caught?"

"This is the first time I've been out of my Animagus form in a week, Harry," Sirius said simply. "The only people that knows that I'm an Animagus are Dumbledore, Remus, and the four people in this cave."

"And Peter," Harry added softly. Sirius sighed deeply, slowly running his hands through his unkempt hair before responding.

"Dumbledore told me about the whole Macnair fiasco," Sirius said soberly as he walked up to Harry. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you." The worry in his godfather's eyes seemed to break down every barrier of strength that Harry had built up since the day Sirius rode off with Buckbeak at the end of Harry's third year.

"I'm all right," Harry said, nearly breaking into tears as his godfather embraced him, the entire stress of the second task once again flooding out.

"Would you mind telling me about it? Dumbledore was a little too careful in abstaining from details."

So Matt, the only one fully conscious throughout the entire ordeal, went into the events that occurred that New Years eve night. Everything from sneaking down to the dungeons to Macnair's arrival to Hermione and Peter's timely rescues. He spent a particular amount of detail in covering what Peter had said and done while Sirius nodded darkly with each sentence.

"You kids fought very well," Sirius said as he nodded in appreciation. "In case you didn't know, Macnair was Voldemort's captain of the guards back during his reign. He killed more Aurors than the rest of the Death Eaters put together. Frighteningly powerful. Probably explains why he was never charged with being a Death Eater, nobody was foolish enough to try and send him to Azkaban."

"You're telling me," Hermione said as she rubbed a sore rib that she had received when Macnair tried to choke the life out of her.

"Looks like that didn't stop you from going toe-to-toe with him, did it Hermione?" Sirius said with a charming grin, causing Hermione to turn away and mumble a bit.

"I'm still wondering why Peter would save you all, however," Sirius said as he took a seat on a smooth boulder, holding a half-eaten chicken breast in his left hand.

"He told us that we still had a greater role to play," Hermione spoke up. "He told Matt and I that we would have to be there to protect Harry when Voldemort is revived."

Ron seemed to cringe at hearing the dark wizard's name while Sirius looked up surprisingly at the girl. It took quite a bit of courage for a wizard, let alone a Muggle-born, to utter Riddle's name.

"I wish I knew what that rat was up to," Sirius said with his arms crossed. "He might have been trying to repay his wizard debt to you, Harry."

"That wouldn't be right," Matt said looking up from his paper. "Macnair wasn't after Harry. He was after Hermione and me."

"He said I was to stay alive so that I had to play my part in Voldemort's revival," Harry said darkly, suppressing a shiver at the memory. "Does Peter really have the power to revive Voldemort, Sirius?"

"What concerns me is that he hasn't done it already," Sirius responded, angrily throwing another chicken bone over to Buckbeak. "Heaven knows that he could pull something like that off. Chubby little geek has been three steps ahead of me ever since I escaped from Azkaban."

"Don't blame yourself, Sirius," Hermione said as she moved towards Buckbeak. "From what I've heard, he's been making fools out of the Ministry for months now."

"Peter could always do that," Sirius said after taking a huge bite out of his loaf of bread. "He was never the best wizard in the world. The Slytherins tended to pick on him quite a bit when James wasn't around. He grew up quick, though. By our last year, he was making marks that were on par with Lily. James had even offered to help make Peter Head Boy but Peter thought your father would be much better suited. He could be downright frightening if someone pushed him the wrong way."

"Do you think he could have been with Voldemort back then?" Harry asked.

"Doubtful," Sirius responded quickly. "There wasn't any real reason to have a spy in our ranks back then. We were just five ordinary Gryffindors back then. A bit troublesome," Sirius said with his old Marauders grin, "but nothing out of the ordinary."

"Sheesh. They make it sound like he's dying," Ron said as he continued to leaf through one of the newer newspapers.

"Who's dying?" Matt asked.

"Crouch," Sirius answered. "He was admitted to St. Mungo's last week. The Ministry has been trying to keep it hushed up but it didn't seem to stop Rita Skeeter from writing about it. Your brother claimed it was from a nervous breakdown from overworking," he said pointing to Ron.

"Yeah," Ron said as he folded up the paper.

"He wasn't at the second task, either," Matt added, leaning back against the cave's walls. "Seems awfully odd for somebody like Crouch to not attend something like that!"

"Maybe he's getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky!" Hermione scoffed as she continued to stroke Buckbeak. "Serves him right after the way he treated her!"

"Pardon?" Matt asked as he and Sirius stared at Hermione in confusion.

"Don't worry about her, Sirius," Ron said simply. "Hermione's been obsessed with house elves since the start of the term. She bloody near talks our ears off about them." Hermione gave the redhead her traditional angry glare.

"Crouch sacked his house-elf?" Sirius asked.

"It was at the Quidditch World Cup," said Harry, as he launched into the story of the Dark Mark's appearance, Winky being spotted in the forest holding Harry's wand by the Aurors, and Crouch's furious dismissal of her.

"So Crouch didn't turn up for the match even after his elf saved a seat for him?" Matt said puzzled.

"That isn't like Crouch at all," Sirius said as he paced the room. "Did you check your pockets for your wand after the match, Harry?"

"Not once," Harry said in a rather disappointed tone. It still seemed to sting him that it was his wand that conjured the Dark Mark that day and that his irresponsibility allowed it to happen. "I know I had it with me when I entered the Top Box however."

"So we can only assume that whoever used the Morsmordre spell was in the Top Box with us." Hermione concluded before narrowing her eyes. "But Winky did not steal Harry's wand!"

"I never said she did, Hermione," Sirius said as he put the finishing touches on his third chicken leg. "Who else was in the top box?"

"Quite a few people," Harry said, ticking off his fingers as he went along. "Some of the chief Bulgarian foreign ministers, Cornelius Fudge, the Malfoys!"

"The Malfoys!" Ron cried as he leapt to his feet excitedly. "They had to have something to do with it!"

"It's not Lucius' style, Ron," Matt said calmly. "Malfoy has always had a long reputation of covering his tracks well before he did anything. I wouldn't rule out Draco, however."

"Draco?" Sirius said, looking up at Matt.

"Lucius' son," Harry responded. "He's in Slytherin, the same year as I am. I don't think he would stick his neck out like that, however."

"Well, you know him better than I do, Harry," Matt said with a mild flavoring of frustration. "Who else could have done it?"

"Ludo Bagman," Hermione whispered as she patted Buckbeak's brow.

"There's an interesting idea," Matt said as he picked up a pair of rocks from the cave floor and started to juggle them.

"The only thing I know about Bagman was that he was a Beater for the Winbourne Wasps back in the early eighties. A good one too, from what I saw." Sirius said, still continuing his rather furtive pacing. "Doesn't seem like somebody that's entrenched in the public eye like Bagman would pull something like this out in the open though."

"Bagman seems all right to me," said Harry. "He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament." Matt and Sirius both stared at him.

"Why on earth would he be helping you?" Matt asked.

"That's suspicious enough in itself," Sirius said with a frown, "but it doesn't prove anything."

"Not to mention that he was mostly unaccounted for much of that night," Hermione pointed out.

"Are you saying that Ludo Bagman conjured the Dark Mark?" Ron asked in an absurd tone.

"Better him than Winky," Hermione said flatly. "House-elves may know their own form of magic, but a spell that requires a wand is usually out of their league."

"Be pretty ironic if it were true, though," Matt said with a mirthful chuckle. Sirius took a long swig of pumpkin juice and then pointed a dirty finger at Matt.

"You seem to know quite a bit about dark wizards, Matt."

Matt simply shrugged his shoulders. "Being the grandson of Minerva McGonagall does have its advantages some times. Of course, my history with Crouch doesn't seem to be as prominent as yours, Mister Black." Black's eyes narrowed a bit at Matt's statement.

"Did you know Crouch, Sirius?" Harry asked, still busy looking wide- eyed at Matt. Sirius gave the young Ravenclaw a dark glare before turning back to Harry.

"Yes, Harry, I know Bartemius Crouch quite well." Sirius replied, his voice so low that Harry strained himself to listen. "He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban- without a trial."

"You're joking!" Ron shouted.

"At the time of Voldemort's death," Matt explained as he gave a nod of apology to Sirius, "many Ministry members were looking to round up the rest of the Death Eaters at whatever cost. They didn't want any loose ends to clutter up the happy ending. Of course, in the matter of James and Lily, sorry Harry, they wanted to find somebody as soon as possible."

"Precisely," Sirius continued as he wiped his chin with one of the cleaner portions of his robe. "Crouch was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the time. He had gained quite a bit of popularity from the wizard populace for his strict policies against death eaters. Giving Aurors the right to kill was a particularly popular mandate," he added darkly.

"In times of troubles, it is the friend that acts like the enemy that is the most beloved friend of them all," Hermione said.

"Never knew you read Faulkner, Hermione," Sirius said with a slight grin. "You two really do seem to know your stuff," he said to Matt and Hermione.

"Thank kyew," Matt said childishly while Hermione blushed slightly.

"Anyway," Sirius said as he turned back to Harry. "Paranoia was running rampant at the time. Nobody really knew who to trust and it was getting more and more difficult to keep Muggles away from the truth. People are scared for themselves, their families, and their friends. Throw in a volatile personality like Crouch at the top of the heap and he's bound to get some attention. People were clamoring for Crouch to be named the new Minister of Magic. Nobody seemed to care about Crouch's methods, they just looked at his results, which were pretty damn impressive."

"So what happened?" Harry asked. "Why didn't he become the Minister of Magic?" Sirius turned to Matt expectantly. The brown-haired boy gave another low chuckle, seemingly savoring in the memory.

"It all started when Neville's parents were kidnapped," Matt started. "I'm sure you already know that Neville's parents were both Aurors, right Harry?"

Harry nodded while Ron and Hermione stared at each other in shock.

"The entire Ministry was up in arms about two of their top officers unaccounted for, so they assigned Moody himself to the case. Moody found the Death Eaters that kidnapped them in a suburb outside of East Berlin a couple of days later."

"And?" Ron said, finally dropping the paper and looking on with extreme interest.

"Well, the three Death Eaters that Moody caught were Ryan Lestrange, Crystal Lestrange, and Barty Crouch."

"But you said Crouch wasn't a Death Eater, Sirius!" Ron pointed out.

"He wasn't. Moody found Barty Crouch Jr.," Sirius said with an almost mirthful tone. "Crouch's own son had been caught. Quite a nasty surprise for the old man, I would imagine."

"But was his son a Death Eater?" asked Harry.

"Hard to say," Sirius said, his mouth still packed with bread. "Associating with the Lestranges was almost a dead giveaway, but nothing's certain when it comes to something like this."

"Did Crouch try and get his son off?" Hermione inquired. Sirius gave a harsh laugh.

"This is a man who chucked his own house-elf onto the streets because she associated him with the Dark Mark, Hermione," he answered bitterly. "At least his son did get a trial, but that was only because the old man wanted to separate himself from his son as much as possible."

"Covering his own ass," Matt muttered. Sirius nodded in agreement.

"Too little, too late." Sirius said simply as he stared at the half- empty tankard of pumpkin juice. "He sent his own son to Azkaban. The kid died about a year after they brought him in. Crouch, being an important Ministry member, was allowed a deathbed visit. Crouch's wife died shortly thereafter. By now, all the Death Eaters that were going to be caught were either dead or in Azkaban and the people were looking to elect a Minister of Magic that didn't have so much controversial stuff on his plate."

"So, kindly little social specialist Cornelius Fudge gets boosted to the top spot and Crouch is shunted away to a smaller position," Matt finished for him. "Everybody was happy about it in the end except for Crouch. He's been a radical speaker for years now. Obsessed with catching dark wizards."

"It's become quite a mania for him from what I've read," Sirius said nodding. "Still trying to go back to what made him famous. An old soldier in a new time." Sirius seemed to find a great deal of humor in that.

"Wow," Matt said after a long silence permeated the cave. "Been a while since I've had a good healthy conversation like this. Most of the time we just listen to Hermione bitching about house-elves and her schoolwork until Madam Pince shoos us out of the library."

Harry couldn't help but laugh as Hermione gave Matt a nasty look. Sirius smiled as well and he shook his head.

"You've made some interesting friends, Harry," Sirius said quietly while Matt and Hermione continued to bicker.

"You have no idea," Harry said as he watched Ron try to intervene, which ultimately made him the target of their shouting.

The sun was beginning to cast an orange glow into the tiny cave as the four magicians were ready to return to Hogwarts.

"Be sure to watch out for yourself, Harry." Sirius said as he embraced his godson tightly. "I know you keep saying that you can take care of yourself but that's not going to stop me from worrying about you, understand? Send me a letter if anything odd happens and do not leave Hogwarts without supervision. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sirius," Harry replied, still a bit annoyed at Sirius' worrying but secretly happy about it as well.

"And don't forget, if you're talking about me among yourselves, call me Snuffles, okay?"

"We'll make sure that Harry wears clean socks and underwear too!" Ron piped up beside Harry. Sirius couldn't help but laugh as he ruffled Ron's hair with a dirty, calloused hand.

"Get out of here, you smartass!" Sirius playfully ordered as Ron crawled out of the narrow opening. Harry waved goodbye to Sirius before following his friend. Matt and Hermione, who were giving some last pats to Buckbeak at the back of the cave, were about to follow suit until Sirius firmly gripped their shoulders.

"What is it, Mister Black?" Hermione asked, a bit frightened by the determined look in Sirius' face.

"I want you two to keep watching over Harry," Sirius said soberly, looking from Matt to Hermione quickly. "I know you two care about him so I probably don't have to ask you, but you're going to have to do my part, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Matt and Hermione responded.

"I won't let you down, Mister Black," Matt said seriously. Sirius clapped him on the shoulder.

"Tell your grandmother I said hi and remember me that next time you pull a prank, all right?" Matt and Hermione both looked at each other and grinned before turning from Sirius and walking out.

"And, Hermione?" Hermione whirled around to look back at Sirius.

"Yes, Mister Black?" she asked as Matt went to join Harry and Ron. Sirius picked up one of the yellowing Daily Prophets and turned it to Rita Skeeter's latest article.

"Don't let anybody get to you, Hermione," Sirius said as he put his hands on the top of the paper and ripped it in two. "You and Harry will know the right path when you come to it."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione muttered as she crawled through the crevice. Sirius watched the four wizards go as the made their way down the mountain. Matt and Ron were talking excitedly while Harry and Hermione were walking side by side without saying a word. Well after he had lost track of them, Sirius Black looked at the village of Hogsmeade as he sighed and remembered the times when he, James, Sirius, and Peter would climb up this mountain and sneak into this cave. This cavern of childhood memories had now evolved into a place of grown-up regret.

"Kids these days," Sirius muttered as he returned to his Animagus form and went about his business.

Hagrid spoke with the four magicians when they had returned from their Hogsmeade weekend and were eating dinner in the Great Hall. He had invited Ginny to drop by his hut for a picnic lunch on Sunday afternoon and asked if they would like to come as well. invited them to drop by his hut to visit him for a picnic lunch on Sunday afternoon. Hagrid even "sweetened the pot" by saying he would show them the new animals they would be working with in the next week of classes. Truth be told, the group was delighted to be spending their Sunday afternoon with the kindly groundskeeper and hardly needed any convincing to join him. So, shortly after a brief bit of early day studying in the library (at Hermione's insistence, of course) Harry, Hermione, Matt, Ron, and Ginny left the protective gates of Hogwarts and took the short path to Hagrid's humble hut.

The students were smart enough to volunteer to bring their own food for the picnic. As good-natured as their titanic teacher was, his reputation as an atrocious cook was well earned. Hagrid was busy chopping firewood he had gathered the previous night from the Forbidden Forest when they arrived.

"Oi, children!" Hagrid cried out merrily as he spied the five students with his beetle-black eyes. "Glad ya could make it! 'Ave you bin enjoyin' your 'Ogsmeade weekend?"

Their answer was interrupted by a sudden crash from the sties holding the remaining blast-ended skrewts, which were now regarded as the foulest creatures on the planet by most of the Hogwarts students. The class started with two-dozen of the fire-breathing monstrosities but their frequent fighting amongst themselves cut their number down to half of that well before Christmas. The only skrewt that had even been tamed in the slightest was Matt's skrewt, Ginger, whom Matt made certain to keep away from the other skrewts as best he could.

"Please tell me we're not going to be working with baby dragons, are we Hagrid?" Ron said, shivering a bit with every bang that emerged from the sties.

"'Fraid not, Ron." Hagrid said, disappointment evident in his voice. "Looks like we won't be workin' with those 'till sixth year." Ron and Harry both blanched as Hagrid turned away from them and into the hut. Noticing the silence, Hagrid turned around once he reached the top step.

"I'm just jokin', ya kids. You know that, right?"

All five of them gave a significant sigh of relief as Hagrid went into his hut. Raising dragons may be illegal in the wizarding world, but that never stopped the half-giant before.

Hagrid emerged from his lightly lit hut moments later with a rather large box that had numerous holes poked into it. Matt could just hear the faint cries of a creature he couldn't quite place as Hagrid moved closer to them. Ron, interested in working with an animal that probably couldn't eat him whole, was the first to rush up to the box once Hagrid gently placed it down.

"Be sure to watch yerselves," Hagrid said cautiously. "And put any valuables you got in a safe place."

"Valuables?" Matt and Hermione both pondered aloud before looking at one another. Harry could practically see the gears in his two friends' brains whirling about.

"Nifflers!" Matt and Hermione both shouted as they rushed to the box.

Sure enough, the shaggy black-haired creatures that were clustered about in the large wooden box were nifflers. Some of the critters had their long snouts upturned, presumably to avoid contact with one another, while some were dragging about on the floor. Each one of the nifflers were staring at the clustered humans curiously, wondering why they were getting so much attention all of a sudden. Their flat, tiny paws made a clacking sound against the surface of the box with each step they made.

"Nifflers?" Ron said, as he poked his head into the box.

"Yeh find 'em down mines mostly. Like I said before, they like shiny stuff."

"What cute little creatures!" Ginny cooed as she hefted one of them out of the box. Ron rolled his eyes at his little sister, angry that she would be so immature and for the fact that he didn't pick one up before her.

"They'll be part of the final," Hagrid said matter-of-factly as he bent down and began taking the nifflers out one-by-one. "Jus' read up a bit about 'em and you should be fine. Figured they could do with some fresh air, though." Once that deed was done, Hagrid clapped his large hands together and stood back up to his impressive full height.

"Well," Hagrid bellowed, "let's get to eatin'!"

"Hagrid, I love animals about as much as anybody I know, but I really think that this one's invading my privacy!" Matt said as he uncomfortably squirmed about on the grass surrounding Hagrid's hut.

"Don' be so worried, Matt!" Hagrid said with a good-natured smile on his rotund face. "It's perfectly 'armless. Ya know that!" That didn't seem to comfort Matt too much, however.

"Why couldn't we have just stuck with the skrewts!" Matt said as the tiny creature began to use its little claws to climb up Matt's shirt. "Hey! Stay out of there!" Matt yelped as the fuzzy niffler poked its long, narrow snout into Matt's right ear.

"It's just helping you out with something that obviously needs cleaning," Hermione said as she and Harry were scratching another niffler's belly. "Be thankful for small favors."

"Eep!" Matt shrilled as the wild-haired niffler now crawled about his shoulders and was now searching Matt's left ear for valuables. "Ginny! Lend me a hand with this thing, will ya!"

Ginny was nearly rolling on the ground with laughter as she watched her friend goof about with a perfectly harmless creature. Here was Matt MacDougal, who could handle hippogriffs, blast-ended skrewts, kappas, and unicorns with a grace that put her brother Charlie to shame, being trampled by an innocent little niffler. The youngest of the Weasleys ignored the irritated look on Ron's face as she calmly plucked the tiny cave dweller from off Matt's shoulders and placed it in her lap.

"There you are, Matt," Ginny said slowly in a voice that was quite like her mother's. "The big, bad niffler can't hurt you anymore," she said as the "vicious creature" started rolling around on the grass. "Want a warm glass of milk before you go to bed?"

"I can't get sympathy no matter where I go," Matt said with a fake air of despondence as he picked up another niffler in his worn hands.

"Maybe you should stick with causing pranks instead of feeling sorry for yourself, Matt," Harry said as he stood up and brushed some clinging blades of grass of his wizard robes.

"On the bright side of things, Harry," Matt retorted. "I have found another asset about these little critters."

"What's that?"

"Well," Matt said as he paused to place the niffler on top of his head. "If you ever start to lose your hair these things will make a damn good wig!" Ron and Hermione both laughed at that.

"I don't think my hair looks that bad!" Harry said in his own defense as he hesitatingly looked at the niffler on Matt's scalp.

"Keep telling yourself that, Harry." Matt said as the niffler began to slowly descend Matt's cranium and venture out onto his broad shoulders. "Keep telling yourself and eventually it will come true."

Harry was set to continue the defense of his rather unorthodox follicles until they all heard the sound of footsteps on the crisp grass. They could see three figures making their way to the hut, each of them wearing the sky-blue robes that were commonly worn by the students at Beauxbatons. Each of them were easily recognizable to Harry, and he couldn't help but smile as they came closer and closer.

"So 'zer you are!" Fleur Delacour said with mock extravagancy as she broke into a slight run to get there quicker, her silvery-blonde hair wafting about in the early spring winds. "I 'ave been looking all over fer you today!"

"Nice to see you, Fleur," Matt said as he, Harry, and Hermione stood up to greet the half-veela girl. Ginny was quite shocked by the elegant lady's appearance and Ron was too nervous to stand up. "What brings you to Hagrid's hut this afternoon."

"I am seemply enjoying the vonders of 'vat 'Ogwarts has to offer," Fleur said as she took in more of the fresh, spring air.

"Ooh!" a small blur shouted as it rushed by Fleur. "Look at ze creatures, sister! Look at ze creatures!" Gabrielle Delacour had picked up one of the nifflers and looked at it with awe. Fleur gave a doting smile as her little sister picked up one of the nifflers and nuzzled it with her nose. Fleur's sparkling white teeth was an almost intoxicating sight for poor Ron, who now had a niffler on top of his head and didn't even notice it. Harry, Hermione, and Matt had gained a newfound respect for the Beauxbatons champion when they saw how she watched over her sister. It almost seemed that the half- veela became a different person when the charming little girl was around.

"'Ve do not often see nifflers at Beauxbatons," Fleur said as she giggled a bit at her little sister's playfulness. "Zey live far away from ze palace grounds."

"Feel free to play with them if you like, young lady," Hagrid said kindly as she patted little Gabrielle's hand with his huge left hand.

"'ello, Hagrid," said the third visitor, a deep almost husky tone resonating from it.

"Madame Maxine," Hagrid said rather formally as he looked up to see the Headmaster of Beauxbatons in all her glory. Her normally olive-skinned face had paled a bit with the coming of a British winter but the bright spring sun was quick to restore it to its normal graceful state. Her long, black hair was dressed back in a simple bun, causing it to sink down just past the small of her back. Hagrid tried to beat back a blush before replying further.

"What brings you 'ere today, Madame Maxine?"

"I 'vas wondering if you would like to take a stroll into the Forbidden Forest," Maxine announced in a stilting formal manner that obviously was an attempt to beat back any hint of shyness.

"Why, I'd be honored, Madame Maxine!" Hagrid stammered as Matt and the others looked at one another with bemused looks. "Would you take care of the nifflers fer me, Matt?"

"Won't be a problem at all, Hagrid," Matt said smiling.

The titanic games keeper held out his arm for Madame Maxine to accept and the two began to make their way north to the Forbidden Forest. As soon as they stepped into the dark woodland, even their colossal frames were hidden from the students' eyes.

"Very interesting," Fleur said aloud as she continued to look into the forest.

"Well," Hermione said as she continued to sweep up some of the nifflers, making sure to save one for Gabrielle, and placing them into the box. "Now what do we do?"

"Vell," Fleur said hesitantly as she pawed the ground with a delicate foot. "Zer is anuzzer reason why I came to speak wit' you today."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"I vatched you in ze first task against the 'Ungarian 'Orntail," Fleur said as pulled out her wand and began to perform a summoning charm, "an' I 'ave been wanting to see if I can match your flying prowess." A brightly painted broom was now in Fleur's hands, the small etching of "Firebolt" engraved at the end of the handle.

Once again, Harry couldn't help but smile.

'I think I'm in love,' Ron thought.

It had only taken a handful of minutes for the Gryffindors to rush back to their dormitories and return with their brooms. The skies surrounding Hagrid's hut were soon clustered by five witches and wizards soaring through the spring sky. Fleur and Harry were racing about on their Firebolts while Ron watched in awe upon his modified Silver Arrow. Ginny had managed to convince Fred and George to let she and Hermione borrow their Cleansweeps for the afternoon and they too were up in the air, much to Hermione's dismay.

"Any chance there are airbags on these brooms?" Hermione said unnervingly as she held onto her broom for dear life.

"Don't be so worried, Hermione," Ginny said calmly as she lazily circled Hermione again and again, making certain not to stray too far. "You can learn how to do this with a little time."

"I think I can incorporate my time into something much more valuable than this," Hermione retorted as she tried her hardest not to look down. Learning the true nature of flying was not something you could read about in a book, so, naturally, Hermione had quite a bit of difficulty with it.

Ron continued to try to pester Matt to fly a bit every time he neared the ground. Ron figured that the sooner Matt got to flying than the sooner he would learn about Quidditch. And, the sooner he learned about Quidditch, the sooner Matt would be normal.

"Forget it, Weasley," Matt said evenly as he watched Gabrielle romp around with the niffler. "I'm perfectly fine on the ground."

Fleur and Harry finally came to a stunning stop several hundred feet above the ground, a slight bit of sweat trickling down their foreheads. Fleur could have sworn that she could make out the figure of Hagrid sitting on top of a small hill in a glen of the forest. She honestly didn't know what to make of the kindly, though extremely, what's the word, homely half-giant that had taken an interest in her mentor. However, if Madame Maxine was happy with Hagrid's company then she wouldn't make any effort to prohibit her from spending more time with him. Madame Maxine had been like a second mother to her and she wished to see her happy, no matter what the circumstances. Then, the half-veela turned to Harry, who seemed to be taking a particular interest in a scene happening below them. Once the silver-haired young woman was able to follow Harry's eyes, she understood what it was.

"She iz very intriguing, no?" Fleur said with a mischievous grin upon her almost regal features. Harry snapped to Fleur's attention in the blink of an eye, looking a bit embarrassed about seemingly spacing out from his current company.

"Pardon?" he asked, his voice suddenly dry.

"Her-mi-oh-knee," Fleur said, making certain to get the name correctly. "You find her han'some, do you?"

Harry gave a brief glance down at his bushy-haired friend, who was beginning to fly with more and more confidence at every moment. He hoped that Fleur hadn't caught him looking but the mischievous glint in her magnificent eyes quelled that hope immediately.

"We're just friends," Harry said in a tone of voice that he hoped indicated confidence.

"Ah," Fleur said as she began to slowly levitate around Harry's inert position in the sky, "it iz one of zose. I saw her at ze Yule Ball dancing with you."

"I just, um, needed a date for the Yule Ball and she didn't have one, and, um, we decided to go together, and, um, we're just friends." Harry responded quickly and almost incomprehensibly. Fleur shrugged her shoulders, clearly enjoying the pressure she had under Harry right now. She would have continued further but she spotted four figures over the horizon. Harry saw them soon after and seemed to adopt a battle stance atop his broom, all the nervousness and caution he held before wiped away in an instance.

Each of the young men flying up towards them were wearing blood-red Quidditch robes, each of them flying with a grace and skill that was rarely ever seen by most. The leader of the pack was particularly impressive, hurtling through the air with such a practiced skill and grace that it seemed as if the fellow was born and bred for the sky. Once Harry was able to manage a closer look at the fellow, he was able to understand why.

For at the head of the pack was Viktor Krum, the seeker for the Bulgarian National Team and arguably the finest Quidditch player in the world at the tender age of eighteen. He was the eldest of the Triwizard champions and many considered him to be the odds on favorite to win the entire thing. On the ground, Krum wasn't much to look at. He was often seen by most a skulking, quiet fellow whose physical features were more disheveled than rugged. His hook-like nose and rather pale complexion reminded Harry of a young Snape, although he imagined that Snape was quite a bit less bulky than Krum at that age. In the air, however, Viktor seemed like a different person. The wrinkles and bruises in his face seemed to fade and the often dismal look he had while on the ground melted away and turned into an adventurous glint in his eye and an almost childlike enthusiasm.

"'ello, Harry! Madam Delacour!" Krum said as he came to a graceful stop with no trouble at all. "Enjoying this afternoon in the air, are you?"

'His English seems to get much better up here,' Harry mused as he spotted Katie Bell on her broom beside Viktor.

"Hey, Harry!" Katie said in a playful voice as she skidded to a stop in front of Harry and Fleur. "Hope you're not hanging out with Fleur up here where Hermione can't keep her eyes on you." Harry tried not to blush at that comment.

"Is zer a reason you are here, Monsieur Krum?" Fleur said harshly, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. If Krum paid heed to Fleur's irritation, he gave no signal of it.

"I haff heard zat you are a good Quidditch seeker, Mister Potter!" Viktor said as steered his broom forward alongside with Katie's.

"I'm okay, I guess," Harry said while looking down shyly. He was always told he was a good Quidditch player but he wasn't too sure of that himself.

"Zen I have come up to challenge you!" Viktor said, the glint in his eyes now far more prominent. "Four-on-four, no snitch. You may haff one of my teammates for the match," he said, gesturing to the other two fellows behind Krum. Harry recognized them as Zograf, the keeper for the Bulgarian national team, and Ivanova, a fair-haired fellow that was a chaser. Fleur seemed to perk up quite a bit at the mention of a Quidditch match against the infamous Viktor Krum, the suspicious look in her eyes fading quickly.

"May I be on your team, 'Arry?" Fleur asked, never taking her eyes of Krum. "I vould like nothing better zen to wound iz ego!" she said as she pointed a fine finger at her Triwizard rival.

"Then I'm on Viktor's team," Katie said as she wrapped an arm around Viktor's shoulders. "A girl's gotta watch out for her main squeeze, right Fleur?" Ivanova, Zograf, and Krum all nearly doubled over with laughter while Fleur vehemently denied any attraction to Harry in several different languages while Harry placed his head in his hands and tried to drown out the scene altogether.

'Maybe I can learn to turn myself into a turnip,' Harry thought as the three young Bulgarians' laughter began to die down. 'I'd probably get less attention that way.'

"I want to play! I want to play!" Ron cried urgently, zooming up quickly on his Silver Arrow. "Can I be on your team, Harry?" Harry smiled in relief at his friend's enthusiasm. Ron nearly idolized Krum for his Quidditch talents and not playing against him now would break his poor friend's heart.

"Sure, Ron." Harry said with a broad grin. He then took a look at the brown-haired Zograf, the chaser's bright blue eyes matching the colors of the afternoon sky. "Care to be this team's keeper?"

"Of course," Zograf said as he flew over to Harry's side to join Harry, Fleur, and Ron.

"All right, zen," Krum said as he appraised his opponents. "Then who is our team's keeper?"

"I'll play," a tiny voice said behind Krum. Krum, Katie, and Ivanova all swerved around to see Ginny Weasley behind them, a nervous look of anticipation on her thirteen-year- old face. "I can be a keeper."

Viktor made a lap around the auburn-haired young woman as he tried to push the shocked look out of his face. Ivanova turned to Katie with a questioning look on his face while Katie just look at the youngest Weasley with quite a bit of pride.

"You do not have to if you do not want to," Viktor said cautiously.

"I play keeper for my brother's Quidditch matches back at home," Ginny said, her voice a bit louder now. "I'm not the best out there, but I can try." Viktor's normally withdrawn features were brightened with a tremendous grin.

"Very well, zen!" Krum said with a whoop, "I shall prepare the field." The seeker then hurtled to the ground at lightening speed, astounding even Harry with his ability. Viktor only stopped to see a young, brown-haired woman clinging to her broom a good one hundred feet below the others.

"Are you all right?" Krum asked. Hermione somehow managed to stop looking at the ever-intimidating ground to look up at him. Her face was several shades paler than her normally fair countenance. George Weasley's Cleansweep had gained a significant amount of new scratches since she took to the air.

"Depends on how you frame the meaning of the word," Hermione said sickly as she tried not to look back down to the ground.

"Would you like to play Quidditch with us, Her-mo-ninny?"

"I'd rather not," Hermione said as she looked up trying to see Harry. "I think I'd much rather be on the ground right now." Viktor hedged a bit as she watched this young woman slowly fly to the ground at a speed that even a snail would not be envious of.

"Are you certain you do not need help?" Viktor called out, cupping his stubby hands to make himself heard better.

"I'll be fine," she said miserably as she almost slid back to the forest floor. "I'll just be down in a couple of hours."

Harry couldn't remember the last time he had so much fun playing Quidditch as he chased Viktor Krum around the makeshift Quidditch pitch. He had never been a Chaser before and he tried not to be awed or intimidated by Krum's blatantly superior skill on his broom. For him, quite frankly, just keeping up with the prodigy was good enough for him. And, when he managed to fake his way around Krum and fired a blistering shot past Ginny for a goal, Krum gave him a hearty pat on the back, which filled Harry with an intoxicating sense of pride and accomplishment.

However, for all his efforts, Krum's team obliterated Harry's. Ivanova and Krum clearly outclassed Harry and Fleur on both sides of the field, as much as Fleur hated to admit it. Ron tried his best as a Beater, even firing several shots at Krum and Ivanova that reminded Harry quite a bit of Fred and George, but neither Ron or Zograf could stop Krum for long. Harry lost count of the number of goals that Krum and Ivanova had scorched by the unfortunate Zograf or the stops that Ginny made on the other end, surprising everyone on the field including Ron. Then again, it didn't matter much to Harry if he won or lost this match. He was in the sky doing what he loved, a blessed freedom from the grueling training, the stress of the Triwizard Tournament, and the threat of Voldemort.

In short, he was being blessedly normal.

Hagrid handed Madame Maxine a shiny, red apple before continuing to lay back in the springy grass on a knoll about two hundred yards away from where Harry was playing. The grounds keeper had pulled out his pair of Omniculars and watched the impromptu match with a huge smile on his face, cheering like a madman whenever Harry, Ron, or Ginny made a good move. Madame Maxine couldn't help but chuckle at her friend's exuberance as she took a large bite into the apple, almost treasuring its simple taste as she sat beside Hagrid on the hill.

"You have interesting students, 'Agrid." Madame Maxine said as she too looked into her Omniculars. "You must be very proud of zem."

"Oh, believe me, I am!" Hagrid exulted as he put down his Omniculars to look at Madame Maxine. "I couldn't be more proud of 'em. They're such good kids."

Neither of them said anything as they continued to watch the young witches and wizards fly about. Hagrid thought back to what Dumbledore said before Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had arrived at Hogwarts, before Madame Maxine had arrived. He said that the Triwizard Tournament was a time for witches and wizards of all nationalities to bond with one another and to establish trust. It reminded him of the war against Voldemort, a time when paranoia ruled the day and no one knew just who to trust. The wires of communication between the wizarding schools around the world were frayed and worn with deceit and self-interest.

But now he saw three Durmstrang students and a Beauxbatons half-veela soaring through the air along with four Hogwarts students without a care in the world. Thoughts of political and economical self-interest were nonexistent within them, they were just enjoying the wonders that life could offer them. They were a new generation, a generation who would not only have to face the challenges of the future, but the mess that the previous generations had left behind before. Hagrid didn't know whether a simple Quidditch match was a sign that these young men and women could make the world a better place working with one another, but it certainly was a fine start.

"A fine start," Hagrid murmured as he placed Maxine's hand in his own and gently kissed it.

"You were an absolute terror up there Hermione!" Matt shouted.

"Shut up, Matt."

"Soaring through the air with the greatest of ease!"

"Shut up, Matt."

"I had to make a call to the Forbidden Forest to warn them about incoming vomit storms, but it was an impressive effort, nonetheless!"

"Shut up, Matt!"

Gabrielle laughed as Matt continued to tease Hermione about her lack of flying prowess, the niffler perched on her right shoulder. The young, half-veela thought that the two of them would make an excellent comedy act.

"Well, allow me to say that you certainly impressed Harry with your aerial acrobatics," Matt said as he took a seat beside Gabrielle, using a levitation charm to carry his spell book with him. "I'd say she swept him of his feet but I don't think that Hermione and brooms mesh together too well, don't you think, Gabrielle?"

Gabrielle Delacour's only response was a high-pitched squeal of laughter as the Ravenclaw started tickling her with a vengeance. Hermione gave her friend a wistful glare as Matt gave Gabrielle another piggyback ride around Hagrid's hut. The empathy that Matt had established with the nine-year-old was almost amazing to Hermione.

'It probably doesn't hurt that he's still a kid himself,' Hermione mused as Matt got on all fours and gave Gabrielle a horseback ride.

"Never trust men, Gabrielle," Hermione told her as Matt came to a stop several feet in front of her. "Interaction with them will bring nothing more than psychological baggage and a loss of mental acumen." Matt and Gabrielle exchanged a baffled look, Matt having to crane his neck to do so, and continued their romp around Hagrid's hut.

Hermione gave a brief sigh before picking up Matt's spell book and lazily leafing through it. She hoped that Harry would be okay against Viktor Krum. Viktor was a fine Quidditch player and she didn't want Harry doubting his own skills at such a pivotal point in the semester. Of course, it wasn't her worrying about Harry that led her to her current mood, it was what else was going on around them. The talk they had with Sirius was exhilarating not only for the information she received but for the fear that came along with it. Ever since she left the cave, there was a bit of a chill about her that every now and then caused her to shiver a bit, as if she wasn't used to what she was getting into. She could tell Matt had the same expression on his face as well. Neither Harry or Ron knew much of the dark times during Voldemort's reign, but Hermione had read so much about it that it made her head spin. She was never a huge fan of Professor Trelawney's idea of predetermined destiny and other such rubbish that she had read about during her short tenure in Trelawney's divination class, but she couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. Very wrong.

"Help me. . ."

Hermione snapped out of her reveries, her eyes wide and her heart pounding like a jackhammer. She heard something, she knew she heard it. Her logical mind told her that there was nothing to hear, just a simple figment of an overactive imagination. However, something else seemed to speak to her, something with even more power than her incredible mind could ever display. It was the same voice that screamed at her when Hermione saw Macnair prepare to snap Matt's neck, the same voice that told her how to perform a spell that she had never seen.

Instinct.

Hermione raced into the Forbidden Forest with Matt right on her heels. She wasn't certain if Matt had heard the same voice as she had but now was hardly the time to ask. Hermione slinked her way through the dense shrubbery and tricky forest floor with a grace that made it look like she had lived there all her life. It was all Matt could to keep up with the Gryffindor as they ran further and further into the mysterious woodlands surrounding Hogwarts.

Matt and Hermione both skidded to a stop almost simultaneously a good hundred yards east of Hagrid's hut. Neither truly knew what they were looking for but they continued their search.

"Help me. . ."

Matt and Hermione turned to one another, as if to confirm that they had heard what they had just heard. This was a human voice, nothing created in the mind's eye. Matt and Hermione looked around wildly to find the source of the pain-laden voice, each passing second bringing about a new air of desperation.

"Please. . ."

"An invisibility cloak," Matt and Hermione both said as they rushed to the source of the voice. Like a man in the dark, Matt groped his hand forward towards a tree stump, searching for anything that he could grab and pull away. Finally, his coursed fingers slid across a velvety like material. The silver cloak began to materialize before their eyes as Matt slowly pulled the cloak away from its owner.

And there, leaning against the hollowed out trunk of the Forbidden Forest, sat a bloody and brutally beaten Bartemius Crouch.

Crud! This was the longest chapter yet! I've got to stop coming up with ideas for what to write about, it's taking away all my precious time! Anyway, enough complaining about my sudden brainstorm of ideas, it's time for the chapter preview.

Well, Harry, Hermione, and Matt wanted to find out where Crouch was and it looks like they found him. The problem is that Crouch is near death, the target of a brutal assassination attempt. While Hermione races to save the war hero, Harry and Matt race back to Hogwarts to find Dumbledore. Will Hermione be able to save Crouch's life? What troubles will our two young heroes face back at Hogwarts? Who is the mysterious assassin? Find out the answers to a few of these questions in the next installment of Harry Potter and The Scholar of Mystery. . . Pathways to the Past. See you soon!