In the evening they were all called to the old Quidditch pitch of the place in the middle of nowhere they were staying at (probably a refugium for paranoid Aurors like Mad-Eye Moody, as Ron's brothers Fred and George had guessed once). Harry, Ron and Hermione filed into the stands together with other students who belonged to the Marauders and got themselves a seat together with all the members of the Weasley family who were still attending Hogwarts and with Neville Longbottom, a very forgetful student from their class. The seats were far from comfortable, but then again, who cared? They were going to see the Duellists, already living legend, and they all were very excited about it.
Dumbledore entered the top box (or at least the thing which was intended to resemble a top box, but looked much more like an overgrown, cube-shaped pumpkin), and the buzzing noise of the crowd died down. At once, all eyes were fixed on him.
Taking a gigantic purple-coloured megaphone, one like Harry had seen Professor McGonagall using once in his second year at Hogwarts, Dumbledore stepped forward to the rail. "Welcome!" his voice boomed over the pitch. "As you all have heard, you are going to see the Duellists tonight, some of the best and bravest among us ("They must be all Gryffindors!" whispered Fred), and our biggest hope against the threat from outside - but I'll speak of that later. (At this point Neville turned rather pale.) To tell you the truth, we have aligned ourselves with the one who was until now our greatest enemy, and he has already agreed to take on responsibility for the Duellists, seeing the need for such an alliance as well as I do. As some of you might already have guessed, I am speaking of Lord Voldemort."
There was something like a general uproar of astonishment and fear from the stands. If Albus Dumbledore, one of the world's most renowned wizards, had to align himself with Lord Voldemort, generally called only You-Know-Who or He Who Must Not Be Named because most witches and wizards were too afraid of him to speak his name, the most evil Dark wizard ever, how hopeless the situation then must be, how great the danger for both of them, how great for every single student!
"Never give up hope", the headmaster of Hogwarts continued. "Together we will surely manage. But we must trust each other. I have got a proof of Voldemort's intention only he could give: He gave his life into my hands. The pressing need of this situation made him do it. Maybe you understand now how great the fear of us all is. But still, never give up. Where there is a will, there is a way. Always remember that."
Neville had shrunk into his chair, trembling, but he was not the only one. Most of the others at least looked somewhat sick. And Harry carefully touched his scar. Would he feel the burning again soon? Who would protect him now from the Dark Lord, if not Dumbledore?
"But let us speak of other things now", Dumbledore went on quite cheerfully. "Many of you can't await seeing the Duellists finally. They need not wait much longer now, for all three of them are waiting to appear." He looked down to the dark entrance of the changing rooms down in the pitch where now two figures clad in black were visible. The eyes of the audience followed his gaze. "You're nosy, you two", Dumbledore told them with a friendly smile. "Call your friend and prepare for the show. Ask the Coordinator to come up to the top box if he wants."
The two figures seemed to confer among themselves for a short time, then the shorter one of them, a person with a bit dishevelled light brown hair as far as Harry could see, turned and walked back in. Only a few seconds later, though, he reappeared and called up to Dumbledore: "He says he'll stay down with us, thank you very much!" To his astonishment, Harry found the voice oddly familiar, but he couldn't say where he had heard it. According to Hermione's expression, she was thinking about just the same.
A third figure, also dressed completely in black, but a bit taller than the other two, could be seen in the entrance. "They're coming!" Ron's voice was harsh with excitement. But they turned and stood facing the little room under the stands - and then Harry felt a sudden twinge of pain on his forehead, not really strong, but hard enough to be noticeable. What was going on? The mysterious Coordinator... Hadn't Dumbledore just said Voldemort was in charge of the Duellists? Harry shuddered at the thought of him being so near.
And then they marched out in a neat line into the broad daylight. They wore short black robes over a black shirt and trousers of the same colour, and their boots were black as well. At exactly the same moment they stopped facing Dumbledore, giving him exactly the same casual salute and then simultaneousley took out black sunglasses from their utility belts and put them on, again at the same time. ("Just imagine how long they've been training that!" George commented.) And then they just stood still, facing the entrance again, waiting for something to happen.
It happened nearly at once. Smoke and flame issued from it, and out strode a creature resembling a leopard, only much taller. "Oh no!" Hermione gasped. "A Nundu! The most dangerous beast of them all! Its poisonous breath can devastate an entire village and all life in it!" Ginny and Neville moaned audibly, but the three Duellists reacted at once. In one accord they raised their wands and cried something Harry couldn't understand, but when he saw a kind of silvery mist shooting out of the tips, he immediately knew they were performing the Patronus charm - only that he had never seen three wizards producing one Patronus together. It grew and grew, gained the shape of a gigantic serpent and then shot down at the menacing Nundu, who like thin fog dissolved into nothing. It had only been an extremely powerful illusion.
"Fantastic!" Fred roared. "Great!" George bellowed. And they were not the only ones. Many were clapping madly. "More! Show us more!" the twins' friend Lee Jordan, who was sitting nearby, shouted. Even Hermione seemed impressed.
Together the three Duellists moved back when suddenly and without a warning a snake glided out of the entrance, about twelve feet long and of a pale, silvery green, and stopped only a few steps away from them with nearly half of its arm-thick body bolt upright, swaying softly from side to side. Gasps and little shrieks could be heard from the audience, but then a taut silence spread over the stadium. Down on the pitch nobody moved except the snake in its eerie dance.
And then it attacked with a loud hiss. Its body flicked forward too fast to follow it with the eyes, but the three men in black were prepared. The one in the middle, the shortest of them, cast himself down upon his hands and knees while the other two stepped away to both sides. Over the kneeling Duellist shot the snake's shimmering body, much too fast in its obsession to attack, and while the Duellist with the light brown hair rolled over two times and came back to his feet, the snake flew right over him so that they had exchanged positions. The Duellist shifted into combat stance, twirling his wand between his fingers almost lazily, watching the dangerous creature, which was slithering over the ground before him nervously.
And what began then made Harry wish he had brought along his omnioculars. For man and animal started a kind of deadly dance, the Duellist retreating when the snake's deadly fangs shot towards his chest, stepping forward again when it had failed and tried to recover its position, irritating it with sparks springing from the tip of his wand when it wanted to attack again. After a while he seemed to be cornering it (which caused loud cheers from the spectators) and driving it towards his companions, who were watching without the slightest sign of fright. Harry couldn't really see what happened then, it happened just too fast, but suddenly the snake was thrown into the air and landed in front of the black-haired man who had emerged from the dark entrance first, while the brown-haired Duellist stepped back from his former opponent with an elegant bow. The witches and wizards in the stands applauded, and the Duellist saluted in the general direction of the top box with his still sparkling wand.
In the meantime his comrade had taken up the fight with the snake. His style to deal with it differed a bit from the other's, though; he seemed to be more offensive and drove the creature back with shining little blasts from his wand. He always jumped aside like a great lion whenever the snake's head shot at him. Finally he got rid of it in the same way as his comrade and let the last of them deal with it, retreating with the same elegant bow and the salute towards the cheering audience.
There was only one Duellist left now. He, too, suddenly seemed oddly familiar to Harry when he swept forward in quick strides to have his own little fight with the creature. The snake turned his head towards him and hastily glided towards him to meet him. Its head shot straight at him; Harry thought he could see the fangs gleam for a little moment - The Duellist side-stepped it, but he was a split second too late. The snake's jaws closed around his forearm. (A great groan from the audience.) With a violent tug he tried to free himself, but the creature wouldn't let him go. Like a whip its tail hit him and slung itself around him as he fell. At Harry's side Ron covered his eyes. Yet a Duellist was a Duellist, he wouldn't give up that fast. He forced his wand between the snake's jaws and blasted it away from him. Like an overgrown but very thin spinning-top, it flew through the air, turning around, and landed about ten feet away from the man. (A deep sigh of relieve from everywhere.) Seemingly unmoved the other two Duellists watched as their comrade approached his dangerous opponent again.
His way of fighting it was similar to the others, yet his moves were riskier, and his blasts were harder. Once more the snake managed to get hold of his arm, but this time he managed to free himself with a simple kick. "He's really brave!" Harry heard one of the twins whisper. "This one's a Gryffindor, for sure!" Without turning his eyes away from the pitch, Harry smiled.
Finally, after the last Duellist had saluted to the roaring spectators, they all crowded together again and sent the hissing snake back into the darkness of the dressing rooms entrance with a great blast from their wands. Everyone cheered. The three Duellists did a flip backwards at exactly the same time ("Wicked!" Ron gasped) and bowed to the many young witches and wizards shouting with delight.
After they had done some incredible stunts while levitating each other, had duelled a bit with Disapparating and then suddenly Apparating again behind their comrades' back and, in the end, nearly got trampled by a herd of stampeding Erumpents (also a powerful illusion, of course), they lined up neatly and bowed to Dumbledore.
"Very well", the Hogwarts headmaster said. "I believe you know every single person of those brave three, or don't you?" He waited until the unbelieving babbling had died down, and then went on: "But maybe you just can't recognize them this way. Let me introduce to you - Remus Lupin!"
The shortest of them stepped forward, bowing again, to thundering applause. "Him!" the twins shouted. "Good old Lupin!" "He's back!" yelled Ron. "The best teacher we ever had!" He, Harry, Hermione and Neville clapped madly.
"Next is - Sirius Black!" Dumbledore's voice rang out over the stadium while the second Duellist bowed.
Sirius! His own godfather! Harry started clapping even more wildly. His friends seemed to be proud on Sirius as well, but many others gave scared gasps as they stared down into the pitch. For twelve years Sirius had been in Azkaban for killing fourteen people - a crime he actually never had committed, but hardly anybody knew about this until now.
Again Dumbledore lifted up the megaphone. "And, last but not least, - Severus Snape!" With a quick stride, the tall Duellist, who had been thrown down by the snake, stepped forward to bow.
This was too much for Fred and George Weasley. "No! It can't be him!" they moaned. "Will you stop clapping immediately!" Ron hissed at Hermione. "Why?" she asked indignantly. "He's been very brave! I would have panicked if I had a snake winding around me!" Harry also didn't like the idea of his least favourite person at Hogwarts being hero-worshipped, but he didn't say anything. Yet he could see how many Slytherin students, among them Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, jumped up and down with joy their Head of House had been chosen. Many Slytherins, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had complained when it had been announced the Head of Gryffindor would be set in charge of the Marauders while their Heads of House didn't get any command. But maybe Snape deserved it really. During Harry's first year at Hogwarts, he had saved the boy's life, and at the end of Harry's fourth year, he had volunteered to spy out Voldemort again, a thing he had done before already, at great personal risk, as Dumbledore had said.
"And now", Dumbledore went on, "let us greet our new ally. Allow me to present to you Tom Marvolo Riddle, better known as Lord Voldemort, he who once was my worst enemy."
Dead, awkward silence lay over the pitch like a heavy blanket as the man whose name most wizards dreaded to utter stepped into the broad sunlight and gave Dumbledore much the same salute as the Duellists just had given him. Wound around him lazily, resting its head on his shoulder, was the snake. He gave Sirius a casual pat on the back (Harry held his breath) and whispered something to him. Sirius nodded towards his comrades, and they all departed heading for the changing room, leaving the spectators in the stands holding their breaths, waiting for Dumbledore to explain everything.