Author's Note: Welcome back to Chapter 2! I would be very happy if you could write a small review! Enjoy!

"The mission is complete, Ragnuk. Audrey Weasley, Percy Weasley's wife, is dead. It was easier than expected. We opened the door with our special picklock and stabbed her, while she was sleeping. No one saw us."

"Excellent, Gorniak," said Ragnuk, who was a very fat goblin sitting in an armchair. "The wife of the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. That will give them a nasty little shock."

"She was already our seventh victim," said the goblin called Gorniak. "Are we going to tell them we did it, before they guess it themselves? The Ministry is slowly becoming suspicious. Our spies at the Goblin Liaison Office told me that, at least."

"Exactly. They're guessing," answered Ragnuk. "For all they know, it could also be someone totally different. Bearing in mind the tensions between wizards and goblins in the past, they will hardly accuse us openly before they have proofs."

"But then, what's the point of everything in the end? I mean, killing wizards is fun, but weren't we striving for more…?" asked Gorniak.

"Oh, don't worry. We will confess the assaults, after all. But when we do that, it has to be with a bigger effect. We need to have Potter over a barrel", cackled Ragnuk. "Macmillan, that coward of a Minister, would do everything to please him."

"Potter?" said Gorniak surprised. "You want to kill him, too? Sure, that would be a shock, but that won't be easy at all, and besides, can't we be grateful to him for what he did as well?"

"I don't want to kill him, you fool, I want to take one of his children has hostage, to control him," spat Ragnuk. "His younger son is now in his first year at Hogwarts; surely our agents there can lure him into a trap."

"You know, of course, that the Gringotts goblins and the smiths are not going to follow us, if we just capture Harry Potter's son without a concrete reason?" asked Gorniak doubtfully.

Ragnuk smiled cruelly. "Oh, don't worry about that. The Ministry can't afford much longer to not react to our assaults. We'll give them a confidential hint, and they will give us a concrete reason soon enough…"

O

When Albus woke up the next morning, he immediately felt nervous and excited. He couldn't await his first classes. Looking around, he saw that Quentin wasn't lying in his bed, so he had probably already gotten up. Scorpius and Adnan were still sleeping. Quietly, Albus got dressed and went into the common room, where he found Quentin sitting at a table and writing a letter. Albus approached him.

"Good morning," Quentin said, smiling, when he saw Albus. "Morning," yawned Albus.

"Let's get down for breakfast, so we can still pay the Owlery a visit before classes," said Quentin. "Our parents surely want to know which house we're in. Although - my father probably doesn't really care," he added.

Albus quickly agreed, and they tried to find the way back to the Great Hall. Luckily, another Ravenclaw passed, and they could follow him; otherwise it would have been not easy at all to find the way back to the Great Hall.

At the Ravenclaw table, Professor Flitwick was distributing the timetables to the students.

"We're starting with Transfiguration today, then double Potions, double Charms and Defence against the Dark Arts," said Albus. "Sounds cool!"

"I'm especially looking forward to Potions," said Scorpius, who had just joined them. "Sometimes I helped my father brewing potions for friends, and it's really fun."

"There's Rose!" Albus cried suddenly and rushed over to the Slytherin table. "Rosie! How are you? I'm so sorry you were sorted to Slytherin! What happened?"

Some of the Slytherins glared at Albus angrily. "Be quiet, you idiot," hissed Rose and whispered: "It's alright, they aren't that bad. The Sorting Hat is completely crazy, though. It said something about me being more cunning than keen, more cold than courageous!" She threw Albus an annoyed look, as if it had been him who had declared that Rose was never ever a Gryffindor and definitely a Slytherin.

"Maybe it even has a point with that," thought Albus, but he didn't dare speaking it out loudly. Instead, he wished Rose a good day and returned to the Ravenclaw table, where Quentin and Scorpius were just getting up from breakfast.

"So, let's go to the Owlery before Transfiguration," suggested Scorpius and led the way. "My father told me where it is, approximately," he added.

Albus quickly took out a piece of parchment and a feather, and wrote his parents that he had settled in quite well and had been sorted into Ravenclaw, where it was nice. Then he followed Scorpius and Quentin to the Owlery, where they met none other than Leon Strelka, who was accompanied by Zacharias Myers and Aurora Dindane.

"Now, look at that, our pure-blood princes," said Strelka mockingly.

"How does it feel, Strelka, to be the only muggle-born in Slytherin?" asked Albus.

"The only? Not at all, Potter, Aurora here also descends from muggles, you know. But I'm not talking to you anyway. Actually I wanted a word with Simiol, because of yesterday's - ah, accident," said Strelka.

"That wasn't an accident," said Quentin. "You punched me, very deliberately. Without a reason."

"You better watch your back, Simiol," snarled Strelka. "I'm not done with you yet." With this, he waddled away. Myers and Dindane eyed Quentin for a while, then they followed Strelka.

"I don't understand that," said Quentin sadly, while he bound his letter at the leg of a school owl. "What have I done to him, that he hates me that much?"

"He's just an idiot," said Albus, watching his own owl, Eileen, fly away with his letter. "We'd better head back, or we'll be late for Transfiguration."

Quentin and Scorpius nodded, and together they went down a moving staircase. Soon, they met Adnan, Gabriel, Pamela and Belvina, who were also on their way to the Transfiguration classroom.

Five minutes later, they were sitting inside the classroom with the Slytherins and waiting for their teacher, Professor Arrington, who was nowhere to be seen.

But, strangely enough, a big American eagle was sitting on the teacher's desk. Scorpius smiled knowingly, but said nothing. Suddenly, the eagle jumped off the desk and transformed, and in front of them stood a rigorous-looking man.

"Welcome to Transfiguration," he said with a metallic voice. "I am Aaron Arrington, one of the world's leading experts on Transfiguration, and, as you have just witnessed, I am also an Animagus. By the way, can anyone define, what an Animagus is?"

Albus raised his hand, among some others.

Professor Arrington pointed towards him. "Mr Potter?"

"An Animagus is a wizard, who can turn into an animal," said Albus confidently.

"No, not really," said Professor Arrington.

Surprised, Albus leaned back.

"Anyone else?"

Hesitantly, Phobos Nott raised his hand. "Yes, Mr Nott," said Professor Arrington.

"Every Animagus can turn into exactly one animal," said Nott.

"That's what Potter meant, but it's not quite correct," answered Professor Arrington.

A short silence followed. Suddenly, Quentin's arm shot upwards.

"Mr Simiol?"

"An Animagus is a witch or wizard who can morph him or herself into an animal at will," said Quentin.

"That's it. Think of werewolves, who also turn into an animal, but not voluntarily," said Professor Arrington. "You will learn more about that in your third year. Five points to Ravenclaw," he added.

"Now, after this quite lengthy introduction, to Transfiguration in general. Transfiguration is definitely the most difficult kind of magic you will learn at school. You need really much theory, concentration, practice and also some serious magical power for it. If you have all this, however, Transfiguration will be a really powerful tool for you, in nearly every aspect of daily life or in your later profession."

Albus stared at Professor Arrington, mesmerized. This man really had the ability to fascinate the whole class with his subject; everyone was dead silent.

"So, how do you transform objects?" Professor Arrington continued. "Firstly, you have to note that for successful Transfiguration you have to move your wand firmly and sparingly. Those of you, who like to wave their wand around spectacularly, will be struggling in this classroom. You can do that in Charms, not here. Secondly, there are several parameters that influence, how successful your transformation will be."

He flicked his wand, and a formula appeared on the blackboard:

t=(w*c)/(a*v) * Z

"The 't' stands for the power of your transformation. It is directly influenced by bodyweight (a), viciousness (v), wand power (w), concentration (c) and a fifth, unknown variable (Z). Obviously, the heavier the object you intend to transform is, the more difficult it will be. Please note, that not size, but weight is decisive. Furthermore, some of your wands are better suited for Transfiguration than others. Still, everyone can achieve considerable success if he doesn't lack the appropriate concentration, which is also a very important factor in this formula. Finally, you of course have to be as flawless as possible regarding your precision of the wand movement, your technique and knowledge about theory. That's what the 'v' stands for."

Albus looked around. So far he had only just understood everything, but he found it really exhausting to follow. Professor Arrington talked in a very formal and quite fast way. Albus saw that some students had even more problems to understand Professor Arringtons no-nonsense lecture.

"All this has been found out by magical theorists over the last centuries. Still, measurements and experiments show us clearly that there is a fifth variable, which is unfortunately still unknown. Many great Transfiguration masters all over the world desperately try to find out what the 'Z' stands for. I delved deeply into this subject myself and am currently doing a lot of research to find the answer. However, even wizards like Dumbledore have failed to find the last variable, so there can be no guarantee at all that it will actually be found in our whole lifetime."

Albus was absolutely thrilled by this, and suddenly felt the burning ambition to be the one to find the 'Z'. Most of his classmates seemed less enthusiastic and tried to keep the pace with taking notes, but now Professor Arrington said:

"Knowing all this, you should be able to transform matchsticks into needles in the last ten minutes of the lesson. The first to do it will receive 20 points to his or her house. The spell is 'acus verto'. You find the wand movement described in your book, it's very simple, just point at the match. Now start."

At once, the students' initial excitement returned, and soon "acus verto" could be heard everywhere in the room. Albus closed his eyes, breathed deeply and pointed his wand at the match in front of him.

"Acus verto!"

He knew immediately that it had worked. A rush of energy flowed through his arm and out of his wand; the match vibrated slightly and turned into a perfect, pointed silver needle. Quentin next to him gasped, astonished.

"That was fast, Mr Potter," said a brisk voice. Professor Arrington was standing in front of him. "Well done. Twenty points to Ravenclaw."

Loudly, Professor Arrington called: "Everyone except Mr Potter will practice this as homework and furthermore write an essay about how you finally did it and why you failed before. Class dismissed."

When Albus left the classroom, he felt the blood rush in his veins. It wasn't that he liked Transfiguration: He loved it.

His classmates, however, mostly didn't seem to share this feeling, because Albus heard many of them complaining about Professor Arringtons high expectations and about the homework.

"That was seriously impressive, Albus," said Quentin next to him, while they were heading towards the dungeons for their first Potions lesson. "How did you do that? You managed it at your very first try! No one else could make a needle!"

"I don't know," responded Albus. "I just concentrated and - transformed it. It just flowed out of me. You'll manage it soon enough as well, I'm sure."

"For my taste, the lesson was just way too theoretical," chimed in Scorpius. "I'm glad we have Potions now. There we'll hopefully do something more practical."

When they entered the Potions classroom in the dungeons, Professor Pyrites was already waiting, beaming at them. He was a very tall, very thin and relatively young man, who looked as if he had just been bathed freshly.

"Welcome to Potions," he greeted them merrily. "My name is Philandros Pyrites, and I'm sure we'll have lots of fun together, won't we?" he said, glancing around, as if he was anxious that someone could jump up and shout 'no'.

"You are coming straight from Transfiguration, is this correct?" Professor Pyrites continued. "Ah, well, I know that Aaron's lessons can be quite exhausting sometimes. So, for relaxation we are going to do something fun today. And, mind you, we'll be doing it slowly. It takes its time to brew potions. You can't be in a hurry there!" he said and looked at several students, as if they had just declared to be of course in quite a hurry.

"Any questions, before we start? No? Excellent! Then let's brew the so-called 'relaxing solution' today," Professor Pyrites continued, speaking rapidly, which didn't quite fit his former admonition to act slowly. "Just look in your books, page five, and you'll find everything you need. Indeed! Ingredients are in this cupboard here. You can do the potion alone, or team up with a classmate. And remember, take your time! Now, jump off, let me see what you are brewing for me!" he said vigorously.

Albus, who found Professor Pyrites agitated speech slightly annoying, caught Quentin's eye. His friend nodded, and together they prepared a cauldron, lit a fire under it and started reading the instructions in the book. Scorpius, who had decided to work alone, was already throwing the first ingredients in his cauldron, looking very much at peace with himself, almost in trance. Professor Pyrites ran around, gleefully, and offered advice to everyone who needed it and also to everyone who didn't need it.

Scorpius didn't seem to notice, when Professor Pyrites arrived at his cauldron and asked Scorpius if he needed help. Professor Pyrites glanced inside the cauldron, and looked impressed for the first time. He quickly proceeded towards Albus and Quentin, who was just saying: "I mean, it isn't exactly difficult, if you just follow the instructions closely, but on the other hand it feels somewhat stupid, doesn't it?"

Professor Pyrites had heard him. He didn't look angry though; on the contrary: He beamed at Quentin. "Quite right, young man!" he said. "At the moment you aren't doing much more than obeying to a book, are you? But don't be impatient," he said, waggling a finger annoyingly at Quentin, "we will do more difficult work soon enough. Indeed! Actually, I'm going to separate the class; those, who have more difficulties with Potions, will continue following the recipes. But those who manage that quite easily, I will teach why they are doing so. Why do you put in this ingredient, why that, why do you stir clockwise, why counter clockwise, why, why, why! Sounds good, doesn't it?"

Albus' mind was spinning, and Quentin seemed to feel similarly, as he just nodded numbly and looked at the book again, waiting for Professor Pyrites to rush towards the next table, where Rose was his 'victim'.

"Thank God we're not in Slytherin," murmured Albus. "Imagine, this guy would be our Head of House. That would be exhausting…"

At the end of the lesson everybody tried out his own solution and felt more or less relaxed. Somewhat reluctantly Albus and Quentin took the antidote, because Professor Pyrites insisted: "We don't want Filius to be angry with me, do we? So, boys, be so nice and drink that." Scorpius, in fact, was so relaxed, that he fell asleep and had to be woken up to take his antidote.

"That was a cool lesson!" he said enthusiastically, when they went outside in the pause before Charms.

"I found it really stupid," said Quentin. "We didn't do any theory, so we were basically mixing something without any clue what we were doing."

Charms was much more to Quentin's liking. Firstly, Professor Flitwick explained some general aspects about Charms.

"You have to keep in mind that unlike in Transfiguration, you have to bring some creativity here. In Charms, absolute accuracy is not so important. There is of course quite a lot to learn, as every charm has its own spell, but it's more like creating something, not transforming it."

Then everyone had to light the top of his wand, saying "Lumos". It didn't work for everybody. While Quentin had no difficulties at all, Albus' light wasn't nicely yellow, but scarlet. Professor Flitwick, who went around to correct the wand movements and offered help to everyone, told Albus that he had put way too much willpower in his spell.

"Spellcasting components are a breakdown of what is needed to perform a spell. They are incantation and pronunciation, wand movement, willpower, and concentration," explained Professor Flitwick. "In general, the more difficult the spell is, the more willpower and concentration you will need."

After a lot of more theoretical instruction, in the end of the lesson those, who had already successfully done the wand-lighting charm, were allowed to try to make objects fly. Albus concentrated, swished and flicked his wand and said: "Wingardium Leviosa!" The feather on his desk didn't start to fly, however, but was blasted away with a bang.

"That was too bold, Mr Potter," said Professor Flitwick, who had fallen from his book pile. "As I said, you have to be a little bit more creative, do it with more feeling. Charms demand much less willpower than transformations. You need a completely different kind of concentration here. Mr Simiol, please show me what you can do."

"Wingardium Leviosa!" said Quentin and swished and flicked his wand at the feather, which obediently levitated in the air.

"That was excellent! Ten points to Ravenclaw," squeaked Professor Flitwick. Strelka was glaring over at them angrily. "Nice work, Mr Simiol. You can help Mr Potter now, otherwise he'll blow up the whole classroom, judging by his determination," Professor Flitwick added towards Quentin.

"Don't concentrate upon the picture of the flying feather, Albus," Quentin whispered. "You have to concentrate at the process to make it fly. And don't be too forceful, you have to do it a little bit more relaxed," he advised.

"Maybe you should have tried it out with the relaxing solution, Albus," joked Scorpius, whose feather was hovering a little in the air, before sailing down at his desk again.

Some tries and feathers later, Albus had the knack of it and successfully levitated his feather. Only a few students had completed the task, and Albus was very relieved not to belong to the rest, who had to practice the spell as homework.

"One more lesson," said Albus, looking at his timetable. "Defence Against the Dark Arts - I'm really looking forward to it, my dad always says that DADA is the most important subject."

"Well, of course Harry Potter would say that," said Scorpius, rolling his eyes. "But have you heard - Tyron Smethwyck will be our teacher. He used to be a famous Auror, before taking the teaching post at Hogwarts."

Albus had indeed heard about Tyron Smethwyck from his father. According to him, Smethwyck was one of the most powerful duelists on earth.

Professor Smethwyck turned out to be an intimidating, square-shouldered man with huge eyebrows. He didn't allow the students to do magic in his lesson, but told them in a bored voice about the Dark Arts.

"Remember: Once the Dark Arts have a hold on you, they never let you go; once you cast your first Dark spell, they will continue to corrupt you. So take my advice: Don't dabble in the Dark Arts," he said gruffly.

"The problem with the Dark Arts is, that they are like a virus: If you find a way to defeat it, it will learn new tricks to avoid this. Thus, the Darks Arts can never be completely extinguished. The only thing we can do is fighting them, continuously, and hold back all Dark forces. For this reason, you are here."

He assigned them a mass of homework and let them leave early.

Albus was somewhat disappointed by this, but James had talked about a lot of practical DADA lessons in the summer holidays, so Albus still looked forward to the coming lessons.

After dinner, Albus, Quentin and Scorpius returned the Ravenclaw common room and started with their homework. Helping each other, they finished rather quickly and chatted excitedly about the several subjects and tomorrow's flying lesson, before they went to bed.

O

Many miles away the Ministry of Magic was in an uproar. The Minister, Ernie Macmillan, reported to Harry and other high-ranked Ministry-Officials in a crisis meeting.

"Susan Bones is dead," he began. "She was murdered when she was at Gringotts, to take gold from her vault. A goblin called Dudek stabbed her to death, with a knife. It was the very same knife that was used to kill Audrey Weasley and all the other victims of the last weeks. We have to assume that the goblins are responsible for those kills. Susan was an old friend of mine," he added.

"You know, of course, that there has to be an immediate reaction!" shouted Percy Weasley, the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Audrey's husband. "We have to take Gringotts under control. Otherwise, the enemy is controlling our whole economy."

"I have to agree with Percy," said Ernie. "The other Gringotts goblins did not distance themselves from Dudek clearly; we have to take Gringotts."

He looked at Harry. "Harry, I must ask you to mobilize the Aurors. Davies, please release a press declaration. Cresswell, please inform the goblins about our decision," he added towards Donald Cresswell, the Head of the Goblin Liaison Office. Harry wasn't happy about that at all, and seemingly, Hermione wasn't either.

"You realize, of course, that the goblins won't take it very well if we wrest Gringotts from them by force? That could provoke a massive conflict, maybe even a war. Besides, you have to ask yourself why they suddenly committed a murder in the public. Possibly, provoking us to such a reaction is exactly what they want," she said.

"The goblins aren't in the position to displease us anymore," answered Ernie. "The whole wizarding community is outraged, and the goblin fighters are no match to our Aurors. They will have to accept our decision. I will offer them a financial compensation, though, and hold out the prospect of them taking back Gringotts when they clarify exactly who is behind the murders."

"That's madness," shouted Harry. "You know the goblins, Ernie, they won't care about financial compensations or anything like that. For them, their dignity stands above all. They will never forgive us that. It could destroy the trust between wizards and goblins for a very long time."

"Nonsense," snarled Percy. "We aren't declaring war on them, we're just exerting political pressure. The public expects a reaction of us. Otherwise the assaults won't stop."

"That's decided, then," said Ernie. "I'm sorry, Harry. We'll certainly maintain diplomatic contacts with them."

Harry shook his head, but said nothing. He had a very bad feeling with this.