Sorry for the delay. Now that I have school again, it'll be a bit harder to work. Also, the following few chapters are going to be a bit complicated. But I will keep on going. Thanks for the reviews; keep them coming!

Chapter Five – Bjorn Thwaite

It had taken Harry two days to figure out what the new riddle meant. And already Transfiguration was boring him. They would be reviewing for a week and the majority of the hour long classes were all on writing. So, he had taken out the riddle and placed it beside his notebook, writing a bit and then looking at the short poem. Somewhere during Wedsnesday's class after lunch, a sudden thought occurred to him. There were two places in Hogwarts where there were rows of suits of armor, or, 'protective' covering. The Entrance Hall and the wing leading towards the Infirmary ring.

The realization had been a bit humorous, what with him staring at it blankly. He had flown back in his seat shouting "Infirmary!" Professor Mcgonagall asked if something was the matter.

"I, uh, feel ill. I need to go to the wing," He had said. She allowed him to go and he went up, looking at each suit of armor carefully, for some sort of hint. After going through them all twice and finding nothing, he accepted defeat. Hermione insisted that he keep on trying whenever he got the chance. It was bound to turn up at some point.

"After this we get to go to our first dueling class," Hermione said at dinner the next day. "And she'll probably have you demonstrate stuff, Harry, because of last year. This is going to be so much fun; we'll probably get to help out the second years."

"Funf?" Ron muttered through his chicken leg, "Wruh par of little bahs – is fun?"

"One day you're going to have one of those little brats, Ronald. And must you talk with your mouth full?"

"Yes," Ron grumbled, "I hope she doesn't pull a Lockhart on us."

"Nah, I don't think she will," Harry said, "She's a pretty cool teacher. But do you think Snape will be there?"

"Well, most likely. This is the first day and all, so Professor Flitwick will probably be there, too. I wonder how they are going to teach, because the antechamber is a little small for two hundred kids or so. And they'll have to have a good sized ramp to practice on . . ."

"Maybe they'll expand the room with magic or something?" Harry suggested.

"That's true; although this is Hogwarts and they have a lot of magic. It'd be a little hard for the professors to change things about it."

"But wha' abo-"

"Chew your food, Ron."

"But what about the Room of Requirement?"

"Well . . . that place was charmed . . . I don't know," Hermione said. She turned to Harry, "So, how when are you doing tryouts?"

"On Saturday, about half an hour after breakfast. We need two beaters and two chasers; but Ginny is a shoe in because of last year," Harry noted; Ginny had done a very helpful job the previous year as a substitute seeker.

"I think I'm getting better," Ron said cheerfully. "Do you have any ideas for beaters or a chaser? Ginny's always wanted to be a chaser."

"Not really, I don't remember try outs last year. You and the others are going to have to be at tryouts though, in case we do a scrimmage."

"Okay, I'll tell Katie when I see her. I think she's at the library right now,"

"Shh!" Hermione and several others whispered sharply. Professor Dumbledore had risen.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have an extremely important announcement to make; I do not believe you understand the size of it.

"Igor Karkaroff, Durmstrang's headmaster, has been captured once more as a death eater," The trio looked at each other, not really understanding how this announcement was at all important. "The new headmaster is a good friend of mine and has suggested something I think you will be pleased to hear. Now that the war has started once more, we all feel that it is important to unite.

"Bjorn Thwaite has made a suggestion that we have one hundred of Hogwarts' finest students attend Durmstrang for the year," There was a gasp amongst the crowd and soft whispering began, but Albus settled them down. Their Dark Arts class has been taken away by request of the Ministry and in place, Professor Sombra will join you on your Durmstrang visit and teach Defense against the Dark Arts. I will substitute here, until we can find a replacement. Professor Snape will also be joining, as there is no longer a Potions professor at Durmstrang. Firenze has informed me that he knows a little about herbs and potions, so he will be filling in Professor Snape's position." Harry snorted; Snape was definitely seething over this.

"Because many of the students who leave are in Quidditch, all Quidditch games are cancelled, although practicing and play-games are permitted. The Quidditch pitch is now accessible to anyone.

"There are one hundred spots available to go to Durmstrang. Only years five and above are permitted; with sixth and seventh years having first 'grabs.' The group will leave on October first. More information will be posted in your common room, and tomorrow morning there will be a sign up sheet in the Great Hall. If you have any questions, you can come to your head of house or me." He nodded to the students in ending for dinner; the majority of them rose except for three.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked. She had a sad look on her face and she was staring at the table top.

"I can't go."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a muggle-born." She informed softly. Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Muggle-borns are not welcome in Durmstrang, they're not accepted. Her eyes were welling up a little bit. "It would have been so educational to go to a – a different school and s-see new cultures. I've always wanted t-to travel but I can't," Hermione sobbed, "All because I'm a muggle-born witch!"

Ron looked at Harry awkwardly and shrugged, patting Hermione on the arm. "Why don't you talk to Mcgonagall? You're the smartest witch here; surely they can make an exception!" Hermione shrugged while wiping her eyes.

"Yeah, c'mon. Why don't we talk to Professor Dumbledore? He's still up there," Harry added, rising up and pulling on her sleeve.

She rose and Ron did, too, and the three made their way towards the Head Table. Professor Mcgonagall and Professor Dumbledore looked at them expectantly; seeming to know the problem at hand.

"Is there any way I can go to Durmstrang?" Hermione said mildly.

"Miss Granger, it was Karkaroff who made that rule and now that he is gone, I am sure things have changed. However, I will be willing to write to Professor Thwaite. Do you boys wish to go as well?"

"Uh. . ." The two chorused, looking at each other. Neither of them really knew.

"Sure," Ron said, shrugging. Harry thought about it. It sounded pretty cool . . .

"I guess so. . ."

"Good. But let me warn you, you will not be able to go to the Grimmauld for Christmas. The transportation from Durmstrang is a bit different and it would take much too long to travel back home. In case you are wondering, Harry, I will be at Durmstrang often to visit." Harry nodded. "Now, go on to your common room, you three.

Harry returned to the Infirmary wing instead to check the suits of armor, determined to find out who was putting him up to all of this. Finally, the next morning before breakfast, he went up to the last suit of armor directly beside the door to the Infirmary. Inside the mask were a note and a rose. For the moment, he had left the rose there and read the note.

'A little impatient, aren't you?' Was scrawled on one side, on the other was the riddle:

The goal of the game is to defeat
But where do you go when you're beat?

The Quidditch pitch.

Harry was proud about how fast he had gotten that riddle solved, all in a matter of seconds. But now he was stumped; there were going to be no more games unless he did one of those 'fake' ones. But no, that seemed too sporadic for his writer. Whoever it was knew what they were doing and had a handle on things.

Maybe it was a Quidditch book? When you're defeated, you go to see what you did wrong and get some ideas. After breakfast, he would go to the library and go through any Quidditch books he could find.

Walking down the halls, heading to the Great Hall, he crossed paths with Malfoy. The Slytherin paused in his step and shoved his hands into his pockets, giving Harry a sneer.

"All alone, Potter? Whatever happened to the Weasel-Dee and Weasel-Dum? Off making little rodents together?"

"Bugger off, Malfoy." Harry said, shoving past the man.

"Your place or mine?" The Gryffindor turned around.

"What the hell do you want, Malfoy?"

"I already asked you."

"Shut up."

"How mature," Malfoy sniggered. "See you later, Potter."

Harry narrowed his eyebrows and kept on walking. Malfoy was such a jerk. A disgusting, good for nothing idiot –

Well, another part of him thought, he hadn't really been nasty that year. It was true; sort of. Malfoy really hadn't been that much a dick so far. A little annoying yes, but truth be told, even in the previous few years he had gotten better. Maybe Hermione was right, people do change.

When Harry thought about it, he agreed. The three friends really grew up from the first time they had met. Ron wasn't as shy anymore, although he could still be a little obnoxious. Hermione was way less bossy than she had been in their first year, and Harry was. . well. . . Harry was. . .

Had he changed?

There really was no time to dwell on it; the loudness of the Great Hall pushed away any room for thinking. He noticed a large crowd gathered around one of the side doors; presumably around the sign up list. Hermione and Ron were already at the table and beckoned him over.

"I already signed us up; you wanted to go, right?" Hermione said, "I got a copy of what was in the common room this morning, I think you missed it. It's the basic rules and stuff for when we go."

"Plus, we'll get money!" Ron threw in.

You will depart at noon of October first at the main docks of the Black Lake.

All those who go will receive ten galleons for participation.

Robes must be handed in two days prior to leaving on October first. You will receive your robes back the morning of your trip.

Books will be provided for you.

Please take all belongings with you; you will not be returning back to Hogwarts until the end of the year.

You will be unable to visit home during Christmas or spring break due to where your location will be.

Please represent Hogwarts with dignity and pride.

"I'm going to assume that the galleons we will receive will probably be used to buy any other necessary items for the trip," Hermione pointed out once Harry set down his piece of paper. "I sent a letter to Krum," Ron grunted, "He graduated a few years ago. I'm asking him about the school. Harry scanned over the note again.

"Why do we have to hand in our robes?"

"Probably because their uniform is red. I guess they'll just charm our robes the appropriate color. It'll be really hard, though; I might offer to help. With coloring charms, you have to do it one robe at a time."

"So, Harry, have you gotten a new note yet?" Ron asked. Harry swallowed a piece of his bagel.

"Yeah, I think I need to go to the library though. It's either a Quidditch book or the Quidditch field. Want to come help me go through the books?"

"Yeah, sure," Ron said, stuffing a croissant into his pocket.

"Sorry, Harry. Ginny and I need to study."

"Why?"

"We'll still be learning basically the same stuff. We need to get good grades even while we're still here." The two boys stared at her. "Ohh, never mind. Neville, have you seen Ginny?"

The library was only a short walk away, but Harry did have time to tell Ron about the Malfoy run-in.

"I'm sorry to say, mate, but he's going on the trip, too."

"Maybe if we're lucky, he'll find some other people to bother."

Ron disagreed, "He's stupid, but not that stupid. Any one of those Bulgarian guys could knock him out of his shoes in one blow." The two laughed, but were hushed once they got into the library.

"Okay, how about you talk one side of the row and I'll take the other," Harry whispered. There was an entire section dedicated to Quidditch in some form of another. Whether it be game play strategies or fictional stories on it.

Harry went through one shelf, then another, and another, passing A Tale of Two Bludgers and Quidditch, the Pitch, finding nothing as he went. As he went to get a small ladder, he noticed that forty minutes had gone by.

"Find anything yet?" He asked Ron, who peeked at him through an encyclopedia of rules on Quidditch.

"No, mate, sorry. I near cleared everything over here."

Harry climbed the ladder and was level with the top book shelf. He began to pull books out and flip through them, when he noticed a flash of green hidden in the dark in the back of the shelf.

He pulled it out; a thin book, none other than Quidditch through the Ages. Flipping quickly through the pages, he almost missed it – another note. On one side of it was the riddle and on the other was a black and white sketch of a rose, with red dye on the petals. Whoever this was was . . . mad. Simply mad.

"Found it!" Harry said, being hushed by Madam Pince. He climbed back from the ladder and Ron went up beside him, looking over his shoulder.

Hush my little beauty,

Don't say a word,

Soon enough

I will be heard.

For another riddle

That'll you will find

In a foreign land,

Be sweet wined.

"I don't get it," Ron muttered. Again, the librarian hushed them and shooed them out. The two boys walked the halls.

"Foreign land . . . Let's think like Hermione. It probably means that whoever is sending this is going on the trip with us."

"Is it your lover, Harry? She's going on the trip with us?" Seamus and Dean came jogging up, after overhearing a bit of the conversation. "What's the love note say?"

"Shut up, Seamus. Do you know anything about Durmstrang?"

"Yeah. Like, a lot of the chicks are butch, so we're outta luck in that department." He said. "And I know that they like to drink. Like, not get drunk, but they have a special table that's for like wine and whiskey and stuff. Kind of like a buffet thing, though, except it's all wine and cheese stuff." He paused and explained, "I have a Scandinavian cousin."

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

Harry knew where the next riddle would be found. And now, more than ever, he wanted to go to Durmstrang.