A/N: Hello! Thanks for the reviews. This chapter has been beta'd by Nessi. Thanks, Nessi.

Chapter 45: Monday Afternoon

Harry and Pomona Sprout walked out onto the field to tremendous applause. Pomona turned lobster red, but she held her head high and took her place ten paces from Harry. She gripped Harry's wand at her side with confidence.

Harry had explained to her that with his wand, she could imagine something happening, wave the wand, and make it so. He didn't explain why it would work or what kind of work he'd have to do to make it work, but she agreed and was excited to try it out.

The numbers started counting down, and then zero signaled the start of the duel. Pomona immediately waved Harry's wand and Harry felt the most curious tug at his magic…It was like he was a gun and all Pomona had to do was point and pull the trigger. The difference was, of course, that Harry could have chosen not to fire.

Harry didn't have much time to contemplate the sensation, however, because he was suddenly surrounded on all sides by a very large crop of Devil's Snare. The day was conveniently cloudy, so the evil plant was perfectly comfortable while it started winding up Harry's legs and pelvis and torso…

He had to reach out with the magic in his own wand to Pomona's wand in his hand so that he could cast with it. Wandless really would have been easier than routing his magic through Pomona's wand, but that would have been cheap, given the circumstances.

Harry began conjuring fire and sunlight out of the wand, making the plant shrivel back. All the while, he messed with the score board so that it said that Pomona was casting with the wand in her hand rather than Harry doing the work for both of them.

It took Harry a few minutes to get completely detangled from the Snare; he kept finding cutlets that had wormed their ways around his ankles and started growing late. Meanwhile, Pomona was not just standing and watching. She was conjuring Venomous Tentacula and picking off its sharp leaves to send at Harry in a flock.

"Bugger!" cried Harry as one of the leaves bit him or something. He shielded himself and advanced on Pomona. Only then did he realize that he was no longer walking on grass…he was wading through flowers, knee deep. He sniffed and yawned, finding his pace slowing. Before he knew it, he was on his knees blinking heavily as the perfume of the flowers washed over him.

Harry didn't notice, but the stands were completely silent as he sunk to his knees, but when he fell flat on his face in a dead-sleep, the stadium gasped in unison.

The clock started ticking down from 60 seconds.

Pomona quickly rushed over to Harry. The clock was at 45. "Come on…don't make me win…They'll know it was fake…" The clock was at 30. "Oh, wake up…" she muttered over him. Fifteen seconds. Finally, she waved the wand, and Harry was suddenly quite awake. The flowers shrunk back into the ground.

Harry nodded at Pomona and Pomona nodded back, signaling she was done. Harry got up dramatically and waved Pomona's wand. A menacing steel box appeared around Pomona, blocking her from the crowd's view. He flicked the wand again and his own wand appeared in his hand. The clock was down to 45…30…5…the bell rang at zero signaling Harry's victory, and Harry vanished the box around Pomona.

The crowd cheered, and Harry took a bow. Harry gestured for Pomona to take a bow and as soon as she bent, the entire stadium doubled its volume. Pomona came out of her bow so quickly in shock that she nearly fell backwards. She turned bright red again and smiled, embarrassed. The crowd just cheered louder.

"Professor Crockett?" she whispered. Harry could still hear it over the earsplitting cheers.

"Yes, Pomona?"

"I don't deserve all of this. You did the magic," she said. "I couldn't."

"That was your imagination, your reflexes, your technique."

"But I couldn't have conjured those things…or made the poppies grow."

"You're forgetting that the climate in the stadium is different. The frost wouldn't affect them in here."

"Not because of the climate! I don't think I could have made them grow anywhere."

Harry smiled. "Well, alright, probably not before today, but…" Harry looked thoughtfully up at the stands. "I bet you could do it on your own now."

"What makes you say that?"

Harry shrugged. "Because I think it's true. I'm good with that kind of thing," he said. "Try it later. –I bet there are going to be a few people who ask you for a reenactment, anyway. Don't get strangled."

She grinned up at him, and before Harry knew it she'd pulled him into a warm hug.

"Thank you," she whispered.

After Harry and Pomona's duel were the primaries for the N.E.W.T. students. Harry had put the sixth and seventh years in the same bracket because only eight had signed up from the two classes combined. The pairs were Rufus Scrimgeour and Tiberius Ogden, Li Chang and Alphard Black, Barty Crouch with Aiko Edwards, and Algie Longbottom with Eileen Prince.

Eileen Prince, a seventh year, was the only contestant in the N.E.W.T. bracket that hadn't taken Harry's Defense against the Dark Arts class. As a result, Harry had never spoken to her, but he was curious about Severus Snape's mother so he asked around a bit. According to the other faculty, Prince took Potions, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, and Transfiguration. She was also known for being the captain of the Hogwarts Gobstones Team.

Harry was now chaperoning Eileen Prince's duel with Algie Longbottom. Longbottom was a far superior dueler to the point where, with good intentions, he started trying to mess around to drag the duel out longer so that Prince didn't look so bad. What actually happened was that Longbottom ended up giving a false impression; he looked like he was playing with Prince and came off as a little sadistic. Prince became so nervous that the clock ran down because she was shaking too much to lift her wand. Longbottom went over to Prince after, very confused, and asked if she was ok, but she gave him a horrified glare and fled the arena. She reminded Harry very much of Neville in Snape's presence, only Harry was fairly certain that Neville's fear of Snape was not caused by some similar misunderstanding.

Overall, the N.E.W.T. primaries took a while and were the most intense student duels yet. The duel between Rufus Scrimgeour and Tiberius Ogden went on for over a half hour. Finally, Ogden's reactions started slowing down and Scrimgeour got in a few lucky shots, pinning Ogden to the ground and disarming him. After the duel, Ogden got up and cheerily shook Scrimgeour's hand as the spectating students cheered.

The faculty descended onto the field again to clear the arenas. Minerva and Slughorn were up next.

For most of the faculty duels (and student duels, for that matter), Harry could make pretty good guesses about who would win. For a duel between Minerva and Slughorn, though, he had no idea who would win. Minerva was fast, powerful, innovative, and aggressive. Slughorn was resourceful, clever, sneaky, and more experienced than Minerva.

All Harry knew was that whoever won that duel would be dueling Harry on Wednesday in the faculty semi-final. He thought it might be fun to duel Minerva, but on the other hand, he didn't want to create any tension in their friendship by absolutely creaming her— he sure as hell wasn't going to pull the same kind of stunt with Minerva as he had with Pomona. By the time he got up into the stands and took his seat, he found himself hoping Slughorn would win.

"Ten galleons on Minerva?" asked a deep voice from above Harry. Harry looked to see Albus smiling serenely.

Harry laughed. "No, thank you," he said as Albus sat next to him. "I've lost enough money because of Minerva." They sat in silence as the clock counted to zero and the duel started. Minerva and Slughorn started sending spells at each other.

"So you think Minerva's going to win?" Harry asked.

"She's been practicing."

Minerva did look quite fierce. Her hair was slowly falling out of its bun, wisp by wisp as she danced. Slughorn was making her work, but he wasn't having the easiest of times either. His sweat gleamed on his forehead and, to the amusement of any particularly attentive spectators, one of the buttons on his vest had popped off.

Minerva's style focused mainly on conjuring objects and transfiguring them as necessary. It was working pretty well; five minutes in, she'd managed to start the clock on Slughorn twice, but he'd broken free both times.

She conjured a flock of birds to distract Slughorn and then conjured a cage around him. After a few moments of struggling with Minerva's magic, when the clock was down to about five seconds, Slughorn managed to dissolve the cage to start sending spells at Minerva again.

Minerva was ready with a new attack. She transfigured the grass around Slughorn's feet into sinking-sand. Slughorn didn't notice he was sinking until the mud started seeping into his socks, but by then he was already stuck. He looked down and started trying to get himself out.

Minerva took the opportunity to fix her hair, which was in her face, completely obscuring her vision.

That was her mistake.

Slughorn looked up from the mud and sent a spell that hit Minerva squarely in the chest. Minerva looked surprised for a moment, but then she shrunk down, disappearing into a pile of her clothes. Harry was a little confused until he read the score board: Slughorn: Forced animagus transformation.

Harry squinted back down at the pile of clothes and saw that it was moving, and soon a tabby cat emerged.

By that time, Slughorn had freed himself from the quicksand and was walking over to Minerva with his wand outstretched. Clearly, he was keeping the spell on her, making her unable to transform back. Minerva hissed as he approached, and raised her claws threateningly.

Once he reached her, Slughorn crouched down, hiding Minerva from the sight of the stands. When Slughorn stood back up, Minerva was no longer hissing. It looked like she was rolling around…

"I wonder how he's kept that spell up for so long," commented Harry to Albus. "It's difficult enough to keep someone out of their animagus forms, but keeping them as animals for extended periods of time is almost impossible. Maybe he's cast something else to keep her from changing back."

Albus hummed. "The score board says he hasn't cast anything since the forced animagus spell."

Harry frowned. "One sec…" Harry closed his eyes and reached out with his magic down to the field…but no one was casting anything. Slughorn was no longer casting the forced animagus spell. There should have been nothing keeping Minerva from changing back.

Harry opened his eyes. "Maybe she's worried about her clothes…? But she knows how to change back and put clothes on fast enough that no one would see."

"Hmm," hummed Albus again. Harry looked back down on the field to see that another cat had darted out from somewhere in the stands to join Minerva. The students had noticed and were muttering and pointing.

"Oy. Remind me to make an announcement about not bringing animals to the duels," said Harry. The words had barely left his mouth when two more cats streaked across from the opposite side of the field to join Minerva. As soon as they reached her, they started rolling around on the ground, just like Minerva.

"Did you find anything?" asked Albus, frowning.

"What? Oh, no. No magic at all," said Harry.

Another two cats appeared on the field, both making a beeline for the group already there.

"No magic…" muttered Albus. "Try checking their…physiology, if you don't mind? All of the cats."

Harry closed his eyes again and reached out with his body aura only to encounter over a half a dozen cats in a dazed euphoria.

"It's like they've been drugged," said Harry, opening his eyes.

Albus stood up rapidly and pointed his wand at the score board just before the clock hit zero. The board now flashed "Time Out" in large letters.

"Come with me," said Albus. Harry stood up and joined him, a little confused.

They hurried down onto the field. Slughorn met them half way across. "What's the big idea, stopping the clock right before I was about to win!"

Harry and Albus didn't stop walking. "I'm sorry, Horace. The other animals on the field pose a hazard. They will have to be removed before the duel continues." They quickly passed Horace who's legs were too short to keep up. Albus's wand was drawn and he was already muttering incantations as they approached the pile of cats.

"Yes…" muttered Albus. "It's what I thought…Conjure a tent, please Harry? Quickly, please?"

Harry conjured a tent around himself, Albus and the cats right before Slughorn caught up, leaving him on the outside.

Albus wordlessly put silencing charms around the tent. "The cats are reacting to a strengthened form of catnip oil."

"Catnip?" repeated Harry incredulously.

Albus nodded. "Catnip. I'm going to vanish it. It is likely Minerva will change back. Will you help her, please?" Harry nodded. "On three, then. One, two, three."

Albus waved his wand and the cats stopped rolling around quite so much, and a second later Minerva started to transform. Harry instantly robed her and caught her as she stumbled into him.

"Minerva, are you alright?" asked Harry, trying to keep her upright.

She was mumbling. "Where's the…"

"Minerva, you are experiencing a false euphoria. Harry is going to help you."

"I am? Oh. Yeah. One moment." Harry closed his eyes and felt around a bit in Minerva's bloodstream before isolating the catnip and vanishing it entirely from her system.

Minerva immediately gasped and collapsed even further. Harry lowered her to the ground.

"Breathe. You'll be fine," said Harry.

"What…did that…bastard do…?" she asked between heavy breaths.

"Language, Minerva," sighed Albus. "He forced your animagus form and then exposed you to a highly concentrated form of catnip oil."

"Catnip?" she panted.

"Catnip," said Albus. "Technically, it is against the rules to use the aid of anything but a wand during these duels, so rightfully Horace should be disqualified from the tournament, but I think in this case I shall bend the rules and allow him continue."

Minerva gasped in outrage. "What are you thinking, Albus? He drugged me, and in front of the whole school! He deserves to be disqualified! No! He deserves to be—oh" she stopped and her eyes went huge. "Oh…OH! Albus! You—"

Albus smiled. "Good luck, Minerva." And with that, he vanished the tent and started walking back to the stands.

"Thank you!" she called, a scheming grin on her face, but Albus was already addressing the students and didn't respond.

"A time-out has been called to remove the animals from the arena," said Albus, his voice echoing across the stadium. "Un-conjured and un-transfigured animals pose a hazard to the duelers. Will the owners of these animals please meet me at the bottom of the southern stairs to retrieve them? Thank you. The duel will resume in two minutes."

He quieted his voice again as Horace approached. "I am terribly sorry about that, Horace. Nothing external should interfere with the duel. I'm sure you understand," said Albus, his eyes dancing.

"Quite, quite," said Slughorn offhand, looking rather put-out.

"It could have happened at any time, you know, a horde of animals rushing onto the field. It's just the sport, I suppose! Good luck with the rest, Horace."

"Yes…yes…just the sport…" Slughorn muttered as Harry and Albus walked briskly back to the stands, a pack of cats following after.

After several embarrassed students came to pick up their cats ("I left him in my dorm, honest!"), the duel resumed.

If Minerva was feisty before, she was terrifying when she started dueling again. With four quick spells she sent Slughorn flying across the stadium only to land him harmlessly and send him flying back the other way. She approached him as he scrabbled on the ground to pick up his wand, but she kicked it away from him. She loomed over him for a moment, and Harry could see her talking but couldn't hear. She hit him with a spell, and then talked a bit more, twiddling her wand. Then, finally, she waved her wand and, with an almighty squeak, Horace Slughorn morphed into a giant, rubber, slug-shaped…cat toy.

The clock started counting down and Harry knew who he'd be dueling on Wednesday.