R&R and enjoy. ~F

Chapter Thirteen

Strenuous Circumstances

Draco was in a daze for the majority of their classes that day. Thankfully Charms was their first class that morning, and tiny Professor Flitwick was about as observant as they came, being part goblin as well as Head of Ravenclaw. He noticed immediately that the group of five Gryffindors had not gotten much sleep, and therefore didn't ask any questions or push them too hard, just set them the work and allowed them to go at their own pace. Draco had always liked the Professor for how kind he was, even when he was a Slytherin.

For his part, Draco was trying to turn his goblet of vinegar into wine, but he was distracted by something that had occurred in the Gryffindor common room right after Ron broke up with his sort-of girlfriend. Ginny had taken the same cue from her brother, and for whatever reason that Draco was unaware of, broke up with Dean Thomas. The ramification was enough to cause Draco distraction even under normal circumstances. Ginny was officially single again.

Momentarily his mind battled over whether it would be right to pursue her as she was his best mate's sister, but it was quickly silenced with an overwhelming landslide of emotion for Ginny. He just needed to find the perfecto moment to speak with her, preferably alone.

Other good news was soon discovered back in the common room during their free period after Charms, as Katie Bell, the seventh year that had been cursed by the necklace all the way back at the first Hogsmeade weekend, had returned to the castle, quite recovered from her injury.

Harry and Faykan were the first to greet her, as well as ask her about the fateful day and what had happened. But unfortunately, Katie had no memory of what had happened from the time she pushed open the girl's bathroom in the Three Broomsticks until nearly two weeks ago when she woke up in St. Mungos.

The rest of the day was mostly a blur, completely uneventful and for once all term, Draco was glad for the mundane. When Harry and Fay left that evening to meet with the Headmaster, Draco immediately chose to retire, only realizing as he entered the dormitory he now shared with Neville, Ron, Harry, Fay, Finnegan and Thomas, that the red haired boy had beaten him to the idea, already snoring loudly from behind his curtains.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Albus smiled wearily as Harry and Lord Alatar entered his office. He could tell from just looking at the pair that they were feeling the strain of nearly two full days and a night of excessive activity. Truly sympathizing, he conjured some tea and several biscuits for each of them, and allowed them to partake while he filled them in on what he had initially discovered.

"Well, my lads," Albus stated, noting how tired his own voice must have sounded, "I've had the opportunity to review the memory you acquired, and I fear that it most certainly affirms what I most dreaded. But more about the details after you've viewed the memory for yourselves. What is important now is that this information we've gained was indeed the crucial key. I now know exactly what must be done to defeat Voldemort for good."

Both young faces smiled at the words, and after they had finished their tea, Albus retrieved his pensieve and placed it gingerly down on the desk before them, "And now, at last, you shall see where all our lessons have been pointing to. Harry, if you'd be so kind as to go in first."

The boy obeyed, followed closely by Alatar and Albus himself entering the silvery liquid last. They appeared in the same room and time as the previous memory from Slughorn, right before the other Slytherin boys had been dismissed from the man's private dinner. The first change from Slughorn's altered memory came very quickly, during the time that the man was praising Tom's skill and ability.

"What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter… than you for the pineapple, by the way, you're quite right, it is my favorite… I confidently expect you to rise to Minister of Magic within twenty years. Fifteen, if you keep sending me pineapple, I have excellent contacts at the Ministry." Slughorn said. Albus was uncertain as to why Horace would hide such a recollection, it's not as though he truly followed through on such a thing, especially given Tom's polite denial of his suitability for the position. Albus knew that it stemmed from the boy wanting more to rule the wizarding world as a tyrant, rather than the elected office of Minister.

"Nonsense," Horace continued after the boys around laughed, excluding Alatar, to whom Riddle sent a cautious glance, "couldn't be plainer you come from decent Wizarding stock, abilities like yours. No, you'll go far, Tom, I've never been wrong about a student yet."

Just then, Slughorn's golden clock chimed eleven o'clock behind them at the Potions Master's desk. The man then dismissed them all, but Tom remained, glaring at Alatar as the Istari lagged behind at the door to the office, just as in the previous memory. When they were finally alone, Tom smiled as Slughorn realized that he was still there.

"Look sharp, Tom, you don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect…"

"Sir, I wanted to ask you something," Riddle said innocently.

"Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away…" Slughorn said, bustling about and paying only partial attention to the future Dark Lord.

"Sir, I wondered what you know about… about Horcruxes?" Tom asked, still keeping his emotions checked as to appear as an innocent boy asking about such a dark topic. Nevertheless, Slughorn did pause at the word, turning to stare at Tom with wide eyes, his fingers clawing absently at the wine glass in his hand.

"Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?" Horace asked unconvincingly. Albus thought the man knew full well that this was no schoolwork question that young Riddle wanted assistance with.

"Not exactly, sir," Tom replied. "I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it." Albus mentally scoffed, just as he did the first time he had viewed this new memory. Tom was clearly lying, but in the Slughorn's less than unbiased view, he wanted to think the best of his prized students.

"No… well… you'd be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that'll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom, that's very Dark stuff, very Dark indeed," Slughorn said. Albus had to agree, as he had personally had seen to removing every trace of such Dark material from the castle, securing it away in his office where no curious eyes might find it by accident.

"But you obviously knew all about them, sir? I mean, a wizard like you… sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously… I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could… so I just thought I'd…" Tom said, flatteringly. Albus had to acquiesce that Tom had had a very powerful knack for getting what he wanted, regardless of the nature. The only one at Hogwarts that seemed to have been immune to the boy's charm had been Albus himself, and that only because he had learned things from Tom's orphanage when he went to meet him as an eleven year old boy.

The Headmaster wondered what may have occurred if he had not been the one to visit Tom, would he have fallen for the good natured and quite likeable front the boy had portrayed also?

In this instance, Tom achieved exactly what he desired. Slughorn told him everything there was to know about Horcruxes, in a brief overview, even going so far as to explain the method of their creation: murdering innocence.

Finally, after all of this, the revelatory information was presented, as Tom asked if it was possible to create more than one Horcrux, and wondered aloud the possibility of seven shards of a soul. Shortly after that frightening exchange, even for poor Slughorn that he would seek to bury the existence of that memory for all time, Albus indicated to the others that it was time to return to his office.

As they resumed their seats, still tired but visibly energized from what they had seen, Albus spoke, "I had been hoping for, and yet fearing, this piece of vital information for a long time. it confirmed the theory on which I have been working, it tells me that I am, most grievously, right in my fear, and also shows us how far there is still to go…"

The portraits all around the office suddenly started to take a very keen interest in the conversation, and the three of them were momentarily distracted by the explosion of subtle movement as they each tried to get into the best position to listen, one of the older Headmasters even pulling out an ear trumpet.

"Well, "Albus said to diffuse the momentary tension, "I am sure you both understand the significance of what we just learned. At the same age as you are now, Harry, give or take a few months, Tom Riddle was doing all he could to find out how to become immortal."

"He succeeded then sir," Harry replied sagely. Albus was ever more surprised at how quickly Harry came to the conclusion; the boy was so incredibly bright. "And that's why he didn't die when he tried to kill me, his Horcruxes kept his soul from departing the world."

"Precisely, Harry," Albus affirmed, "it is apparent that Voldemort was seeking Horace's opinion on the results of creating more than one. No book would have given him that information, and as far as I know… and as far, I am sure, as Voldemort knew… no witch or wizard had ever done more damage to themselves than tearing their soul in two pieces."

"So we have the Diary," Harry said, ticking it off his finger, "and if I can guess, the ring from Marvolo Gaunt, as well as perhaps Slytherin's locket and Hufflepuff's Cup…"

Albus beamed, "Exactly as I was thinking Harry, brilliant deduction from all we've witnessed thus far." And Albus meant it.

Lord Alatar had sat thoughtfully throughout the exchange, but finally spoke. "That's two of seven then, isn't it Albus?" he asked pointedly, glancing at the aged wizard. Albus caught the trap immediately. The truth was that it was seven, including Harry himself, and Albus was set between lying to them both, and convincing Alatar that he was not trustworthy, or dropping the explosion of the full truth on poor Harry.

It was not the position Albus had ever desired to be in, and was unfortunately what had eventually led to Albus trying to dispose of the Istari when he believed the seemingly young lad to be an upstart trying to foil Albus' well thought out and meticulous plans. Then he saw it, the small flaw that would allow him to slip past, albeit an unfortunately needed half-truth.

"Indeed, Lord Alatar, seven pieces of the Dark Lord's soul including the one in his newly regenerated body, which makes six Horcruxes in total." Alatar frowned at that, and Albus knew that he was greatly displeased by the old wizard, but Albus would continue to choose this path. Harry's happiness was far more important than him needing to know the dreadful fears of an old man over his life and possible death.

The Istari fell silent for the rest of Albus' and Harry's talk, describing the Headmaster's thoughts on what the other Horcruxes were, as well as a standing commitment between them to bring Harry and the ancient wizard along when Albus next discovered where one was. It was a small concession, and to be honest with even himself, Albus would welcome the company on such a horrid task as recovering a cursed artifact from Merlin-knew-where.

In due time, Albus was able to dismiss the pair, and parted with only the slightest twinge of guilt as he caught Alatar's gaze.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Faykan was rather quiet after his and Harry's meeting with the Headmaster, and the green-eyed boy was somewhat concerned over the next few days at his friend's brooding. It only took the first few hours of the next day for the rest of the Gryffindors to recognize their friend's moodiness.

Knowing that there would be little they could do until the Istari had had time to mull out whatever was going on in his head, the four other Gryffindors waited until the weekend before speaking with him about it.

In the Gryffindor common room they found him, muttering to himself as he gazed into the burning fireplace, absently stroking his stubble as he sent smoke rings up into the air. Harry was the first to approach, followed by Draco. Hermione and Ron hung back slightly, as they were less familiar with Fay when he was in this sort of state. After a trio of year's worth of summers at Orthanc, both boys had experienced a full assortment of Faykan's moods, spanning the entire spectrum, and were well aware of how to pull the Istari out of his dourer ones.

"Fay," Harry began as he sat to one side of the brooding wizard. Draco took the other side out of habit. At first, the Istari seemed to not notice them, but after Harry called his name again he started and turned to them, as though he had only just seen them.

"Ah Harry, Draco, how are you both…" he said dismissively, but Draco wasn't having that.

"You seem to be the one who needs to be asked that question…" Draco said directly, and Faykan turned to him with a curious glance. "Am I?" he said, still feigning ignorance of their concern. However, before they could breach the subject on point, Faykan clapped his hands together, "Ah ha!" he said, standing and turning to them both with excited glee on his face, "I've figured out what we need to do next."

The two boys could do nothing but stare in astonishment as Faykan began pacing in delight, as smoke started to billow as he happily drew on the clay pipe. "Yes, yes, yes! It's perfect; they would quite be surprised if we were to visit them on the spot. Yes, we will leave at once for the mountain!"

"What… wha…?" Harry said, but just the Fay grabbed both his and Draco's arms, and the sudden near-painful squeezing sensation washed over Harry as the Istari apparated them right out of the castle off to destinations unknown.

They landed with a heavy thud out under the open sky, right on the front porch of a massive singular mountain jutting up into the sky with no competition for miles around. Faykan smiled up at it, while Harry and Draco gaped at its grandeur. "Well," Fay said after a moment, "Mustn't keep them waiting, they'd have spotted us by now from the parapets, and…" he turned to them, frowning slightly, "and we may not be dressed for such an occasion as this… No matter, it is easily remedied."

Without warning, Fay struck his staff upon the ground, and in a brief flash, Harry found that their clothing had been transfigured. Faykan wore his traditional deep azure robe, clasped in silver, while Draco was in black with the White Tree of Gondor decorating the tunic and cloak. Harry however, wore clothing somewhat similar to Faykan, only green with golden trim and threading. Coronets of gold and silver were upon their heads, and for all Harry could tell, they appeared like Elven princes of old.

"Now, follow me, and speak only when spoken to." Faykan said hurriedly, and walked off toward the massive stonework built into the side of the mountain.

"Fay," Harry called as he jogged to catch up to his friend's purposeful strides, "What's going on, where are we? Who are we visiting dressed like this?" questions seemed to pour from his mouth, but Fay held a hand up, "You will see once we are inside, then all will be made clear while I speak to the king."

Harry glanced at Draco in confusion. The blond boy merely shrugged, adjusted his tunic, and followed without a word.

Soon enough they had reached was turned out to be a massive gatehouse carved into the solid stone. "Halt!" called a gruff, somewhat familiar sounding voice from high above the three as the approached, "State your business at the Kingdom of Erebor!"

The name struck Harry. Erebor, the Lonely Mountain, a kingdom mentioned quite prominently from the old tales that Faykan had read to them about several times over the years. Straining his memory, Harry tried to remember what sort lived under the mountain.

A flashback from his second year in Hogwarts reminded him immediately as Faykan spoke. "Since when do the dwarves of Durin's line ever question the comings and goings of the Istari? What else, but an audience with the Dwarf Lord of Rhovanion would draw me hither?"

Whatever the dwarf so high above them had expected, it certainly wasn't that response, as there was silence above them for several long minutes, before the gate began to groan open as about a dozen dwarves, armored and grunting, shoved the massive stone door aside.

Another of the stout men of the mountains approached, wearing more regal attire than the guards around, "Lord Alatar," he greeted with a deep bow, "We've not heard from you in well over two ages now. Please enter, great wizard and your companions, come and taste of the hospitality of Durin's Folk."

If the view of the outside of the mountain was anything, then Harry was sure the sight of the dwarven city within was well beyond imagination. The works of gold and stone and gems filled every work, from great statues of the many rulers and nobles of the mighty households, to paving the very causeways that crisscrossed through the mountain's interior.

The three wizards were taken directly into the heart of the mountain, and up a long causeway that lead to the throne room. The first thing to catch Harry's eye was the massive funnel of stone, veined with gold, which bore down from the ceiling and into the very top of the Dwarf Lord's throne. The hall was lined with statures of the Lords and Kings of Durin's line that ruled from the mountain realm. One in particular looked familiar from the visions he had seen in the Palantír. Faykan caught him staring at the statue, and muttered, "Thorin Oakenshield, very good eye for catching his memorial, my friend."

Harry observed the statue as they mounted the sets of stairs to the throne. He caught sight of a cunningly crafted sword, metal and not stone, that was held in the statue's hand, along with a gleaming jewel upon his chest. It seemed to sparkle and shine with light emanating from within, even from so far away in the dim halls.

"I see one of your companions has spotted the jewel of our kingdom, Lord Alatar," said the dwarf sitting upon the throne, causing Harry to turn back and bow respectfully. The Dwarf Lord continued, speaking directly to Harry as he pointed out the statue in question, "It is the Arkenstone, young human, the King's Jewel, placed upon the tomb of Thorin II after the Battle of the Five Armies, many ages ago. The blade in his hand also is a gift by the elves, an ever present reminder that we must be vigilant. The blade glows blue when enemies draw near the mountain, so our kin are protected by their own, even when they have passed beyond this life."

Harry smiled his thanks for the history, and Faykan stepped forward, bowing slightly as he addressed the King, "Hail, Thráin, son of Frór, Lord of Erebor. I bring you tidings in this dark hour and with council if you will hear it."

The old dwarf grinned widely as Alatar spoke, "Ah, Alatar, you old dog, you know you have no need for that flattery of yours around me!" he laughed, a booming, jolly sound that made even Harry crack a smile. "You are most welcome here my friend! You must stay awhile; we shall have a feast for your visit, give your friends a real treat from the Dwarves of Erebor."

Fay smiled graciously, bowing slightly again, "Thank you old friend, we will dine with you but we cannot stay terribly long, there is much bad business to take care of, very bad indeed, and we came for your support if we could get it."

Thráin grew quiet, studying Faykan's face, all the merriment in him cooled by the seriousness of the statement, "If you mean the little stunt you tried to pull past my uncle by dragging Borin into you little alliance, then we must have a talk about that indeed, my friend. Náin is most displeased with my cousin, and you as well for that matter, over the whole of it. Uncle has tried very hard to keep the dwarves out of the recent threats to the world, and your meddling is not something he takes kindly to…"

Faykan shrugged sheepishly, "I do what I feel is right," he said simply, "and I will gladly discuss the whole of the matter with you, and Náin if he ever allows me to return to the halls of Khazad-dûm…"

"Aye, we will be discussing it, and my uncle will indeed be hearing the whole of it from me soon enough, and then we will see if you may be permitted to speak with the King of Durin's Folk or not." Thráin said, before he smiled warmly again, "But enough of all that unpleasantness, we have a feast to attend!"

And leaping from the throne, Thráin clapped an arm around Faykan and steered him from the hall, the Dwarf Lord's entourage escorting Harry and Draco along behind. Leaning over to whisper to Draco, Harry asked, "Why are we here?"

Draco shrugged, allowing himself to be led down to a wide dining hall, where many other dwarves were already laying out a spread of the most interesting food that Harry had ever seen. Mountains of meat piled among flagons of malt beer, which Faykan permitted then both to only taste the dark ale, rich grains and many root vegetables coupled with the massive quantities of red meat straight off the bone. The fires in the hearths roared with heat, making the vast hall quite comfortable, and Harry quickly started to enjoy himself among the dwarves of Erebor.

There was singing, and some dancing, and a lot of drinking as the men of the mountain celebrated the visit of a trusted friend. A small choir of thirteen dwarves came, and all grew silent as they somberly sung the song of the Lonely Mountain, the fall of the mountain kingdom to Smaug the Terrible, and the quest of Thorin Oakenshield to reclaim their homeland.

"So, young ones," Thráin said between mouthfuls of dripping meat, "what great skills permit ones so young to journey with the last of the Istari?"

Faykan chuckled, "these one are very important friends of mine, dear Thráin, this," he gestured at Harry, "is Mr. Harry Potter, the one prophesized to defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort."

Thráin glanced at him with a penetrating glance, before smiling fondly and taking a deep draft from his tankard. "Do you sing, Mr. Potter?" the Dwarf king asked pointedly, and Harry felt very much caught off guard.

"I… um, well…" Harry stammered. It wasn't a talent he readily told anyone about, but he had taken a great liking to the old stories and poems of the elder days, and had discovered a talent for the musical arts. He knew no instruments, but had found that carrying a note on his tongue was both relaxing and enjoyable. "Yes."

Thráin held up a hand, silencing the dwarven choir, "favor us, please." He said, gesturing to Harry.

Harry glanced at Faykan, who nodded his agreement to fulfilling the Dwarf Lord's request. Standing slowly, Harry stepped to the place where the choir occupied, and felt nerves seize him up. But the smiling faces all around calmed his fears, and he thought hard and fast of something apt for the occasion. His mind drifted back to the statue of Thorin that had so effectively caught his attention, and shrugged mentally to himself.

One deep breath and Harry opened his mouth, "Thorin! King under the Mountain, alas no more shall rule this domain…"

Silence fell all around him, the attention of every dwarf in the banquet hall fixed upon him. "We brethren must go on without him, and ensure his death was not in vain…" Harry sang, his voice high and clear. The choir behind him started to hum, a low base to compliment his high tenor.

"In sleep eternal he will rest, with the Arkenstone upon his breast…" Harry scanned the eyes of his audience, seeing the deep emotion that was stirred in the mountain dwellers, "which evermore shall emit its light, to banish the darkness of unending night…"

He understood more in those few moments then all the time he had poured over the tale. Harry could see the love that the people of Erebor felt for the ancient King, and liberator of their mountain home. "And on his tomb is Orcrist laid… an Elven blade, forged in Elder Days… to warn of foes, and roving orcs, and ward off all evil from Erebor…"

Even Faykan and Draco seemed to feel the resonance of the dwarves around them, and gently Faykan's hand slipped to Glamdring on his belt, the brother-blade to Orcrist for the entirety that it was in the Dwarf King's possession.

"How shall we remember our fallen friend, who conquered Dragon Sickness in the end?" Harry sang the question out, feeling more the seeing the emotion in the room. "A warrior, leader, a proud flawed king?" Harry quieted for a moment, before finishing with the song's stern rejection of the potential titles for the dwarf, "A worthy descendant of mighty Durin!"

Rather than applause as he finished, silently the entire congregation raised their tankards, goblets and other drinking vessels as one, offering a silent toast to the hero of their people. Harry drank as well, before sitting beside Faykan and nodding his head respectfully to the Dwarf Lord.

"Beautiful…" Thráin said, tears in his eyes, before turning to glance at Draco, "and who is this young man bearing the colors of Gondor?" he asked, lifting his tankard once more.

"This," Faykan introduced, "is Draco, now known as Sgiathatch Telcontar…"

At that, Thráin paused completely, ale dribbling down his red beard. Lowering the stein the King under the Mountain turned to look at Draco, "By Durin's beard..." he muttered, "So it is true, what my cousin's been sayin'. You've found and claimed the heir of Elessar..."

"Did you believe that Borin would make such a rash decision against your uncle's wishes if there wasn't need of it?" Faykan replied tersely.

"I did wonder..." Thráin said, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "but I n'er expected that you'd wrangle up the very heir of the kings of Númenor just to make a point..."

They all laughed at that. Thráin mopped his dripping face with his beard, before growing somewhat serious again, "So my friend, you've made a good argument, if you've declared an heir of the kingdoms of men, then you mean business, what do you want of the sons of Durin?"

Faykan took a short time explaining the battle that had occurred the previous week in the Dark Forest, explaining how the centaurs had pledged their loyalties to the house of Elessar by responding the Horn of Gondor, and as they were now officially allies and they would need armaments and weapons to fight off the forces of Darkness. "And therefore, we would like to commission the dwarves to create and supply the herds of the forest watchers with equipment they will need to march into battle…" he said, folding his hands in front of him and draining the last of his drink.

"Aye, that is a tall order, my friend. You'll most definitely need the approval of Uncle Náin if any dwarf-smith was to take on that large an order... However, your need is indeed true, and your claim upon the dwarves of Durin is, so far as I see, valid, so I will plead your case before the King. If all goes well, you may just muster a legion or two of dwarves to side with you."

"It would be most appreciated, my old friend." Faykan said with a small bow of his head. For the next few hours they spoke of the minute details, and overall enjoyed the revelry and gracious hospitality of the dwarves of Durin. By the time they left, the day was past, and they returned to Hogwarts under a blanket of stars.

Ron and Hermione had been worried, but when they learned of what they had encountered, they became very interested. It wasn't until Harry laid down for the night that he remembered that they were supposed to have been confronting Fay about what he was brooding over for the past few days.

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Hermione was confused over the next fortnight at how Faykan had changed so abruptly from sullen to cheerful, but eventually came to accept like the others that he had merely been pressed trying to broach the topic of speaking with the dwarves about aid. From what Harry and Draco had mentioned, it seemed plausible that he had noticed the lack of assistance that Borin had been sending since that first pitched battle the previous summer, and had not received positive answers to his messages and letters to the Lord of the Glittering Caves.

But now, with the promise he had received from Borin's cousin, the Lord of Erebor, he was back to normal, and was eagerly helping Harry train the Gryffindor Quidditch team for their final match against Ravenclaw that would decide the fate of the cup.

Tension was high for the upcoming match, and despite a majority of the Ravenclaw team being in Dumbledore's Army, lines over Quidditch were being taken very seriously. Name-calling, taunting, and the occasional hex in the corridors were commonplace now, and the players for the respected teams were divided between strutting through the castle, or else diving into each and every bathroom to throw up from nerves.

Personally, Hermione felt their time could be better spent preparing the D.A. for the war with more lessons, or trying to riddle out more about the Horcruxes that Harry and Fay learned of from Dumbledore, or even going out and bringing the fight to Voldemort's forces again. Much as she knew the dangers of open combat, Hermione knew it was inevitable that the war would become bloody and fraught with peril, and the more of the Dark's forces they defeated early on, the less they would have to be concerned over when violence spilled out across the country.

But Faykan had been adamant that they were to remain at Hogwarts for the rest of term, at the least, almost as if the Istari had some inkling of the future and events that would occur at the school in the coming months. Hermione wouldn't put it past him, and if they were suspicions alone, it would explain why he was so hesitant to come and outright state it.

Draco, Harry, and Fay hadn't let the subject of Nott and his unknown activities drop either, but occasionally one of the three would stare for hours at the Marauder's Map, watching the boy's movements and trying to find rhyme or reason for where he would go, speculating what he may have been up to.

All hope of dissuading them from these frivolous wastes of time was fruitless, even though in her heart of hearts, Hermione feared that what Fay feared about the school was directly linked to Nott's suspicious activities.

With only a handful of days left before the match, Hermione wondered what would consume the boy's more, Quidditch fever or hunting Nott, but she chose to continue her personal studies instead of berate them yet again. She was making great progress in learning N.E.W.T. level Arithmancy and Runes, well beyond what the Professors were currently teaching.

It was somewhat of an obsession she had developed while Ron was fraternizing with Lavender Brown, and while the boy had now broken up with the girl and was paying more attention to Hermione, she had hung on to the habit.

"Look!" Draco said, pointing at the map he was holding. Faykan and Harry moved over to him instantly, their eyes going wide, "He's totally exposed in there," Faykan said, musing aloud. "We could try…" Harry said cryptically, glancing back at Hermione, and Ron who was studying across from her. She had no desire to try and thwart whatever plans they were scheming, "Go," she said dismissively, "just try not to get hurt," she added as they dashed out of the common room.

"What's going on?" Ron said with a start, looking up. The boy had apparently been napping behind his Transfiguration book. Hermione just giggled at his antics, while the red head tried to piece together what he had missed. Ron was really quite humorous at times.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Harry dashed down the corridors, Faykan and Draco hot on his heels. They had spotted Theodore Nott on the Marauder's Map, lurking in the sixth floor's boy's bathroom.

He was also alone.

There was no other way out of that room, and if Harry's guess was right, they could potentially trap Nott inside and force him to spill all he knew. It would be three on one if the boy tried to fight out, and Harry smiled as Draco shot a Patronus out of the end of his wand, sending a message to Professor Snape for him to come collect Nott regardless of the outcome.

They only stopped as they arrived at the corner of the corridor before the bathroom. Not wanting to startle Nott if he was doing whatever thing he was keeping hidden, they sneaked as quietly as they could to the door of the bathroom. Checking the Map, Harry nodded to the others when he saw that Nott was still inside.

Fay waved his wand over the door, then gently pushed it open a crack. Nott was indeed in the bathroom, clutching one of the sinks with both hands, his head bowed. Faykan put a hand on Harry and Draco's shoulders, and passing his wand to Harry, slid into the bathroom. The others two boys eased the door back to a crack that they could see through, ready to burst in if Fay needed backup.

Nott seemed to be shaking, his entire body shuddering between great gulps of air. Harry realized that the Slytherin was crying, truly crying, with tears streaming down his face.

"Theo?" Fay called gently, and the boy whirled, his wand in the air and a curse on his lips. But Nott stopped when he saw Faykan's hands in the air, with no wand in sight. The boy was also wearing the strangest looking silver headpiece, with a blue gem set in the center, and a bird's head at the very peak, just poking out of the boy's hair.

"I come in peace, please." Fay said imploringly, "Please lower your wand Theodore, I only wish to talk…"

Nott did not move, "if you want to talk Stanton, then go ahead and talk… I'm listening…" Harry saw Nott's eyes flashing with some inner magic.

"Nott," Fay continued, "We only want to help you…"

Nott laughed, a high pitched noise, but not nearly as cold as Voldemort's. "Help me? You want to help… you have no idea what you're saying, why would I need help with what I'm doing?"

Fay shook his head sadly, taking a small step toward Nott, "Stay where you are!" the Slytherin shouted, stepping back and aiming his wand between Faykan's eyes, "I know who you are Will Stanton, or should I say Faykan Undol! You think you're so clever to pull one over the entire school but you're not."

He smirked a moment later, a crazed look in his eyes, "The Dark Lord is coming for you and Potter, and he will conquer you, regardless of anything you throw in his way. Your little allies are meaningless against his hordes, Dumbledore cannot save you. He has powers beyond your imagining…"

"Oh, I'm sure I can imagine quite a deal," Fay replied calmly, stepping closer still to Nott.

"Stop, stay where you are or I will kill you…" Nott shouted shakily, his wand quivering.

"No, you will not." Fay replied, continuing to walking forward, "You're no killer, Nott, just as you really don't want to finish whatever project the Dark Lord wants of you. You know that he doesn't care for you or anyone else, only his power. But it doesn't need to be that way, we can help you, Dumbledore and Professor Snape can help you. We can secret you away from Voldemort and keep you safe until the war is over. All you have done thus far will be forgiven. Please trust me…"

For a moment, Nott's wand lowered a fraction, and it seemed that Nott was listening. But a shadow passed over the boy's eyes, and he snarled at Faykan, "Liar!" he yelled, snapping a curse from his wand.

Harry and Draco burst in just as Fay rolled out of the path of the curse. Nott dived behind a row of stalls as Draco and Harry's spells ricocheted off the sinks and mirrors, sending shards of glass and porcelain across the floor.

As Faykan got to his feet, Harry tossed his wand to him, and the three Gryffindors spread out in a defensive formation, putting themselves between Nott and the door. "Nott," Fay called, keeping his voice calm as he stepped cautiously toward the row of stalls, "we do not want to fight you, but we will defend ourselves if we must. Please, let's end this peacefully."

The response was a blasting curse into the stalls. Faykan's shield snapped into place instantly, deflecting the detonated wood all around him harmlessly.

Harry moved to start down the back side of the stalls and flush Nott out, but Faykan stopped him with a glare. "No, we will not have this end in violence." Fay started to turn back to call to Nott, but the Slytherin charged from behind the rubble and bull rushed Faykan, knocking the Gryffindor to the ground. Nott was on him instantly, decking him in the face with his free hand while casting a shield around him.

Harry and Draco froze, their wands dancing as they tried to find an opening without hitting Faykan. After a second, Nott climbed to his feet, pulling Faykan with him to use as a human shield. "I don't care what you may think or want to say, my Lord will win in the end, and there is nothing you can to stop him, or me."

Nott started backing to the door, keeping Faykan between him and the Gryffindors. Harry was about to try and get Nott with a stunner anyway, but Faykan caught his eye, and winked at him. As Nott tried to managed opening the door and hang onto Fay, he spun, latching onto the Slytherin's wand arm. One formless spell later, and Faykan flung Nott through the air, sending the boy crashing through the bathroom door and out into the corridor.

As the three of them advanced, they spotted Professor Snape coming down the corridor. Nott spotted his Head of House as well, and spat out a curse, slashing his wand around him, engulfing them all in thick darkness. By the time Faykan dispelled it with a flash of light from his staff, the boy was gone.

Faykan shook his head sadly as the Professor arrived, looking concerned at the destruction of the bathroom and minor injuries they were sporting from the few spells that were cast. "What happened?" he demanded.

Faykan continued to look down the corridor to where Nott had escaped, but spoke in a soft voice, "Nott escaped, and he's gone farther down the dark path than we ever expected…"

The Professor nodded mutely, before placing a hand on Faykan's shoulder, which seemed to draw the Istari from the state he was in, "Do we tell the Headmaster?" he asked flatly, and Harry's eyebrows rose slightly.

"No, there'd be little point in doing so," Faykan said, "Albus is well aware of the situation, and we have gained no information from this. It would be best to just leave Nott to his devices, under observation of course for whatever he and his lord are planning."

Professor Snape nodded, and after making sure they were all fine, they all departed back to Gryffindor Tower.

Potential Spoilers Ahead, You Have Been Warned!

At this point in writing the original, the Hobbit movies were finally coming out, and I admit it was a spur of the moment to delve so deeply into the dwarves of Erebor, however I stand by the decision. the dwarves are ever presently an ally of the Free Peoples, and to further the narrative of what occurred since the days of the War of the Ring would not be complete without Durin's Folk being given some light and history. Until next time! ~F