A/N: Hey, everybody! Sorry it took so long to post this...AP tests suck, but what can you do? Well! Now that I'm finally back, Here's the next chapter. I'll TRY not to make any typoes, okay? And to that helpful reviewer who said that quotes were separate paragraphs....I didn't know that, and I'm seventeen. How embarrassing is that? LOL. As always, please R/R!!! I'm kinda depressed. I only got a couple of reviews from the last chapter....


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Chapter 12
Rescue


Harry glanced at Hermione again, and there was that same strange feeling. He puzzled over it, and noted, for the first time, how pretty she really was...

Wait a second, what was he thinking!? He violently shook his head. "Snap out of it, Harry!" he admonished himself. "She's your *friend*... "

Sprout's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Harry? You with us?" He looked up guiltily. The professor gave Harry a reproving glance before turning back to her students.

Hermione felt the back of her neck tingle, a sure indication that someone was staring at her. She made a cautious, half turn, and caught Ron. His dream-clouded eyes started, and he blushed and turned away clumsily. Hermione sighed. She knew that Ron's crush would have to come to an end soon, especially if she were to ever tell Harry how she truly felt about him. She thought back to the rivalry between Ron and Harry during the picking of the Tri-Wizard champions and shuddered. "I'll tell Ron soon," she whispered to herself. "Really, I will!" Hermione's stomache felt queasy as she anticipated the coming ordeal. She risked a peep at Harry, who was thoughtfully gazing out the window. She felt better immediately.

Ron felt his cheeks go hot as Hermione unexpectedly swung around to face him. He buried his head quickly in his book to avoid the sudden contact with Hermione's bright eyes. "Fool!" he silently berated himself. "Just stare right back and try to tell her how you feel!" But the moment had passed, and he knew it. He decided it was best to let it go. He snuck another look at her. She was staring at Harry.

Professor Sprout looked at her three brightest students, noted their preoccupied faces, and decided she would probably have to repeat the lesson again the next day.


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A sweaty and uncomfortable senior ministry official ran up to meet Minister Fudge to report his findings.

"Mr. Fudge, Sir," he began humbly.

"What?" he bellowed. He nervously tapped his fingers against the polished wood of his desk.

"The assasination squad has been spotted. Would you like us to go after them?"

"No!" he said quickly... guiltily.

"But...but Sir!" stuttered the man. "That group is wanted internationally for murder!"

There was a long pause, and the official knew from the purple, knitted expression on Fudge's face that he was busily making up an excuse. The room became eerily silent, save for the constant tapping of nail against wood.

"Where did you spot them?" he finally managed to say.

"In the muggle part of London, Sir."

"Did they seem....er....preoccupied?"

"Sir?"

"Were they, um, tailing anyone?"

"Sir!!!?"

"Would you say they were closing in for a kill?" Fudge finally sputtered, unknowing of how to put it more delicately.

The official took a step back, gaping that a surprised fish. He goggled at the Minister for a second, before replying quietly.

"Well, the leader, that psychic muggle from the United States, he did seem.... er.... *preoccupied.*"

"I see," said the Minister, barely surpressing a grin.

"I want you to wait twenty-four hours before closing in on the squad," said the Minister serenely.

"But, Sir! They're famous for eliminating targets quickly, efficiently! The poor man they're after will probably be dead by then!"

"We'll see about that. After all, who's the Minister of Magic here? Hmm?"

The official backed away slowly, his eyes on the Minister, before turned away abruptly and practically running out of the room.

Fudge looked after the old, wayward official with a grin. Sometimes it payed to have senile, idiots about him.

"What makes you think the target's a man?" he whispered happily after the fleeing figure.

"No one makes me look like a fool. No one."


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The group of muderous wizards advanced steadily and unerringly toward the dark corner where Dianna hid. She shuddered. Her senses, as they always did in anticipation of a battle, began to sharpen. She noted everything from the small spiders crawling in confusion in her hair (from where they had fallen from the massive cobwebs Dianna had disturbed) to the way the tallest member (obviously the leader) of the assasination squad kept twitching his glance toward her, though he couldn't have possibly seen her, hidden as she was in the depth of the shadows. the others followed him whenever a change in direction was required.

Desperately, Dianna tried to apparate, but realized, a few painful seconds later, that the wizards had already though of that, and had placed a barrier around the entire block.

How did they know? How did they maintain that assured, knowing attitude? It was tiring to place a spell like that around an entire block, and something one didn't do in vain....

"He's a seer!" she realized in a sudden flood of understanding. "He must be the one leading them all. If I were able to disable him... I can't lead him to Harry..." Her thoughts were tangled, unfinished, but she was beginning to form a crude plan. Dianna waited as they neared, her muscles tensing. She gripped her wand closely. Her wand, though an unnecessary accesorry, gave her confidence, and she aimed her wand directly at the seer himself. Just a few steps closer...

"Wait," said the leader, just a few meters away from where Dianna stood. He stepped into a strong beam of light that had filtered through the towering buildings and paused. Dianna almost gasped, but a strong sense of self-preservation halted the reflex immediately. She had expected an ancient master, someone strong enough to sense her magical presence, even though she had done her best to cover her tracks. But this man... he was little older than herself!

"I sense a large body of wizards approaching..." the man's face scrunched up in fierce concentration. "Twenty....no, twenty-three men. Ministry officials."


The man's chocolate brown hair fell down toward his eyes. He brushed away the strands impatiently. He was quickly calculating the risks. He and his clan only had two rules. One was to always see a job through, no matter how powerful or wealthy the target. The other rule was to never get *caught.* It didn't matter that they were mere yards away from the woman. He could sense her presense, though shielded by some very impressive spells. What mattered was being alive and free to put the employer's pay to use.

The second rule warred rationally with the first in his mind... and won.

"Fall back! Escape plan three."

Dianna's wand wavered with relief as, to her surprise, the wizards dispersed. What had just happened? She focused her energy, and saw, in her mind's eye, a group of ministry officials running messily toward her. Of course! They feared discovery. A gang of wizards could easily finish off one wizard or witch, but a score of them.... that was tough, even for the highly trained. She concentrated once more and found, to her relief, that the wizards had undone the apparation-blocking spell in order to escape themselves. She apparated away from the ministry officials easily.


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"What HAPPENED!?" cried Fudge angrily.

He frowned inwardly. From the reports he had received from other officials, it seemed the "senile idiot" had, in fact, comprehended much more than he had given him credit for.

After leaving Fudge's office, the senior official had consulted, by owl, with the International Committee of Magic. He had been instructed by Head Minister Kake to go after the assasination squad immediately. With the Head Minister's authority and approval, the senior official had discreetly set about to capture the wizards and had, unknowingly, saved Dianna's life.

"Damn! Damn it all to Hell!" he cursed. His informers flinched.

"Sir," began one, "we didn't know what to do. When he brought up Kake, we couldn't refuse..."

"Kake!" growled Fudge. As long as there was a power above him, Fudge knew he would never receive the *respect* he deserved. Dare he redirect the assasination squad toward Head Minister Kake.....?

"Leave me alone! Await my orders."

The men left.

If one wants to understand Fudge, one must understand that Fudge hated all things that were more powerful than himself, or didn't understand. He had reasoned, long ago, to use his own power and lord it over others before they had a chance to use their own against him. This was the reason he hated and feared Dumbledore and Kake. They were both beyond him in power. Though he had before been willing to worship the Phoenix, a magical being he had known little about, the knowledge that the Phoenix was Harry, a boy he didn't understand and intuitively feared, made him willing to change his ways. And Dianna..... he knew so little about her! This made him feel uneasy. The Minister of Magic should know all... that's what *he* believed. Dianna had popped out of no where, with a deep, Ministry-embarrassing secret locked away in her memories.

Fudge was reflecting on all this when the fire of his candle suddenly flickered, and turned a ghastly shade of green. Fudge stared at it in horror, the green light from the candle reflecting off his face, making him look more pathetic and sickly than ever.

"Who...who's there?" he mumbled, afraid.

His own voice echoed back to him. It hit home to him just how alone he was in his cavernous office.

"Fudge... at last we meet," cackled a shrill voice.

Voldemort! He really *was* back....... Fudge heard a dull rattling and realized that the sound was coming from himself. He stop chattering his teeth.

A burst of black smoke seeped from the single, green flame, trumpeted the arrival of Voldemort's actual, physical self. Fudge stared at him. This was no man. This was a monster. Red eyes stared out of a pale, white face amusedly.

"You are right to fear me," Voldemort told the shaking, quivering man. "But, alas, I am not here to harm you. I am here to offer you a chance to stand by my side..."



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Things just weren't the same anymore. Try as Harry might, Ron and Hermione were acting in a thoroughly bemusing manner. Gone were the days of happy ignorance and fellowship.

"Ron! Hermione!" he yelled as he walked out into the corridor. "We're going to be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts!"

They trailed behind him. Harry sighed in defeat, and ran back toward them. Taking Ron and Hermione by the hand, he dragged them with him to the classroom.

"Don't you guys want to know who the new DADA teacher is?" Harry finally yelled.

This seemed to get through to them. They both perked up and hurried their steps.

"Do you think they're bringing Lupin back?" Ron said excitedly.

"What about Lockheart?" said Hermione quickly.

They filed into the room. Hermione sat near the front, as always. Harry settled down comfortably in the middle row. Ron looked at his two friends, lingered by the door, and finally sat down next to Harry.

A quiet descended upon the room. Everyone looked expectantly at the clock, waiting for class to start and the new DADA teacher to make an appearance.

The clock struck the time, and the door creaked open. Everyone, including the Slytherins that shared the class that period with the Gryffindors, held their breathes...

Professor Dumbledore walked into the room and cleared his throat.

"Hello class," he said pleasantly. "I'll be the new DADA teacher until your permanent teacher is hired."

The noise after this statement was enormous.

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence the room. "When I was a professor here at Hogwarts," he began, "I taught Transfiguration. But I was an auror once, and I'll be relying on those memories to teach you this class. I'll probably be here only for a while, a week at most. We'll find a replacement."

Malfoy snickered somewhere in the back row. In a very audible whisper to Goyle, he said, "Think he even remembers what happened in the good ol' days? Probably can't even remember what he had for breakfast."

Dumbledore looked at Malfoy with surprise. He thought sadly to himself, "We can't afford to lose the Slytherins, but they grow ever more defiant..."

So, instead of punishing him as he should have, Dumbledore gave him an easy smile and replied, "I remember just enough to teach you fifth years," and proceded with the class.

"Today, we will be experimenting with spells. As an auror, I fought many duels. Some I won, some I lost, but I learned from all. Today, I will be giving you a list of completely unfamiliar, but harmless spells. You'll be told how they work and what they do only ONCE, so pay attention! Anyone caught dueling with any other spell will be failed."

The only pleased face in the entire room was Hermione's. The rest of room looked either shocked, nervous, or just plain mad.

"How is this supposed to help us?" said Malfoy angrily.

"This teaches you self-reliance! It teaches you to think on your feet! Now, I want everyone to pair up after I've taught you the spells. I want the winner of each match to challenge a winner from the next group. If you lose, that's all right."

Hardly a sound except the constant droning of Dumbledore's voice was heard in the DADA classroom for the next few minutes. Everyone was listening intently to the list of spells coming from the professor. No one wanted to appear weak during the duel.

"To temporarily stun an opponent, I want you to say *Diatarius.* This will stun your opponent for ten seconds."

Dumbledore demonstrated by transfiguring a piece of chalk into a live rat. After shouting, "Diatarius!" the rat froze for the exact ten seconds.

"To perform a binding spell, I want you all to forget what you've learned before, and use *adheria.*"

Shouting "Adheria!" with his wand pointed at the rat, Dumbledore managed to bind the rat's hind legs neatly.

"To block a simple spell, like the Diatarius or Adheria spells, say *Protecious.* The stronger a wizard you are, the stronger your shield will be."

Dumbledore demonstrated, and the class stared at the vibrant blue shield encircling him. It was a perfect sphere and didn't last long.

"Because it takes so much energy to perform this spell," said Dumbledore, "you must time this spell wisely. It only lasts a few seconds."

"Now, this is the only spell I shall be showing you that cannot be blocked. It's the *Degracia* spell. It causes your opponent to lose his or her balance."

Dumbledore waved his wand and said, "Degracia!" The rat, though it had four legs, began floundering about the table, before making a graceless fall on it's belly.

"I taught you all these new spells because, no matter how badly you pronounce it, it won't turn into some other spell and create trouble. I created these spells to be totally unique. The victor of each duel is the one left standing. Anyone who's head touches the ground loses. Is that understood?"

Everyone nodded.

Dumbledore smiled and said, "Pair up!"


"Hey Ron, want to go up against me first?" said Harry.

Ron looked around wildly and joked, "Come on Harry, you need more experience. If you keep dueling me, you'll never get it. Besides, I promised...er...Neville."

Harry shrugged. If Ron wanted to duel Neville instead of him, he'd just catch up with Ron second round.

Harry watched Ron procede to join up with Neville Longbottom who stared at Ron, first in surprise, then in delight, at the prospect of having a partner so soon. Neville was used to being the odd one left out.

After Ron left, there wasn't anyone left who wanted to partner up with him. Hermione had challenged a girl from Slytherin called Laura. Almost everyone was paired up with somebody or other.

"Potter, I'm going to totally anhiliate you!" This came from Draco, obviously. He was most likely hurt that both Crabbe and Goyle had abandoned him.

Harry accepted the challenge (if it was one), mostly because there was nobody left.

"I'm going to enjoy beating you," snarled Draco. "Let's see if Dumbledore can save you from public humiliation!"

"You're nothing but talk, Malfoy" taunted Harry. "We'll see what happens."


Ron and Neville were up first. Neville looked nervous. He kept looking pleadingly at Ron, as if silently asking him to go easy on him, but Ron conveniently looked away.

Hermione made her way next to Harry and they watched the duel begin.

"Look at him, Harry," said Hermione. "I don't think Neville remembers any spells!"

This was true. Neville was frantically whispering spells under his breath. Harry and Hermione, as well as anyone else interested enough, saw Neville's lips move, and could tell that the spells he was rehearsing were wrong.

"You may start."

Ron was ready, even if Neville was not.

"Diatarius!"

Neville froze.

"Adherius!"

Nothing happened. Neville regained the use of his limbs, but Ron didn't care. He was still trying the remember the spell.

Neville used his time wisely. Remembering what Ron had said, Neville repeated it to himself over and over again.

"Adherius...Adhera...Adheria!"

A ray of light shot out of Neville's wand and hit a very surprised Ron squarely in the chest. He fell to the floor with a loud thump, his legs bound together.

"Neville is the winner!" said Dumbledore.

With a look at Ron, Dumbledore said clearly, "Never underestimate your opponent."

Ron left the sparring area, still utterly confused.

"Next!"

It was Hermione and Laura's turn.

"Start."

Laura and Hermione both shouted "Adheria" at the same time, but Hermione managed to duck under Laura's spell and avoid it, while Laura stood her ground and received it, full blast.

Everyone held their breathes as Laura balanced herself precariously, even though her legs were now bound. Triumphantly, she managed to keep herself upright.

"Degracia!" yelled Hermione, and sent Laura tumbling to the floor. It was a clear victory for Hermione.

Next up were Crabbe and Goyle. Neither could remember any spells. Crabbe yelled, "Expelliarmus!" and was disqualified.

The duels went on. No one attempted the shield charm except Dean, and his shield was too weak and short-lived to do him much good. He ended up taking a slightly deflected Degracia spell, and went toppling to the floor. No one tried after that.

Overall, the Gryffindors were doing very well, though, as Draco put it, there were "too few Slytherins and too many Gryffindors." It was a wideheld, and possibly true belief that most of the Slytherins had transferred to Durmstrang. "Too bad Draco didn't go," said Ron. "He probably got rejected. Even the bad guys don't like him!"

Dumbledore's voice, now a bit hoarse, cried out, "Next!"

It was Harry and Draco's turn.

"Begin!" said Dumbledore.





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