Author's Note: Thank you, livvylane and this-is-not-lyra, for reviewing. Guest, thank you for your interest at my story! Unfortunately, you're wrong; Beauxbatons is not only a school for French girls, but also for boys, even if the movie suggests otherwise. I advise you to consult the book, where several boys are mentioned.

Welcome, everyone, to Chapter 13! Please review! Sorry for the slow updating pace; currently I have to learn for some exams. This will continue another month, then I will have more time and update much faster again.

Albus took a deep breath. It was cold outside, very cold. He was glad that he had put on the blue jumper his grandma had given him for Christmas. He had been enthusiastic about finally getting one of the famous Weasley jumpers that Grandma Weasley knitted for all of her grandchildren. All this seemed so far away now, even though it had been only a few weeks ago. Molly' suicide had changed everything. Albus closed his eyes. He had to remain strong now.

"Shouldn't - shouldn't we go back? It's quite dark, after all, and cold," said Scorpius, who was shivering, tentatively.

Albus opened his eyes again, which made hardly a difference, of course, as it was pitch-black. The moon was a crescent and gave only a faint light.

"No! We've come this far. Now we stay the course!" he hissed sharply. How could his friends be so weak? Although, he reminded himself, Quentin had protected them, hazarding the consequences. Scorpius seemed to have recognized Albus' angry undertone and flinched.

"Look," said Albus in a more conciliatory voice. "You can of course go back into the castle if you want. But there is nothing dangerous about the darkness, and if we keep moving, we'll be warm soon enough."

Scorpius seemed to pull himself together. "Sure," he said, although his voice sounded somewhat tremulous. "Let's go. Lumos."

Albus followed his example and lit his wand as well. Together, they started walking towards Hagrid's hut. They had decided to take that way because it would be the easiest to find in the darkness. Hagrid would surely be asleep at this hour, so it wouldn't be difficult to sneak past his hut and enter the Forbidden Forest.

It was more difficult than expected to find the right way in the darkness. More than once, they took a wrong fork and ended up at the Quidditch pitch or at the Black Lake. Eventually, however, they managed to break out in the right direction and reached Hagrid's hut. The windows were dark; Hagrid seemed indeed to be sleeping.

Carefully, they passed the hut and climbed through Hagrid's various patches. They had almost reached the edge of the Forest, when Scorpius suddenly lost his balance and toppled over one of Hagrid's most gorgeous pumpkins. He ruggedly hit the ground and yelped quietly. It had not been a loud noise, but in the hut, something immediately started to rustle. A second later, shrill barking pervaded the air.

Albus and Scorpius looked at each other, frozen in shock.

"Fang? Wha's the matter?" rumbled Hagrid's muffled voice from inside the hut. Fang continued barking as if his life depended on it. "C'mon, Fang, m'boy, we go outside and look if there is anything wrong, agreed?"

Heavy steps approached the backdoor that led right outside to the pumpkin patch Albus and Scorpius were standing on.

"Run, Albus," whispered Scorpius. "Finish your mission. I will stop Hagrid. Otherwise, Fang will sniff us out at once. Run!"

Albus didn't need to be told twice and stormed behind the first trees, carefully avoiding the last pumpkins. Not a second too early; he heard the backdoor of Hagrid's hut open, which increased the penetrating sound of Fang's barking.

"Good morning, Hagrid," said Scorpius matter-of-factly, as if there was nothing more normal than standing in the gamekeeper's pumpkin patch in the middle of the night.

Hagrid appeared into Albus' sight. He was carrying a lantern and life-threatening looking crossbow. Next to him scurried a very nervous Fang.

"Ma'foy?" Hagrid asked disbelievingly, lowering his crossbow. "What are you doin' here?"

"My cat has vanished," said Scorpius, credibly pretending despair. "I went outside to search it, but I couldn't find it, it got dark and I went astray. I am so glad I found your hut! Can you help me to find the way back to the castle? I'm freezing."

Albus, had to restrain himself not to laugh out loudly. He was very sceptical if Hagrid would buy this story. Hagrid didn't seem to know himself if he should believe Scorpius or not, and stood there clueless. Scorpius, on the other hand, approached Fang and carefully petted the boarhound, who seemed to enjoy this a lot. This seemed to convince Hagrid, obviously still stunned by this turning of the events, of Scorpius' sincerity. He gathered himself and said, "very well, Scorpius, follow me, I will take you back to the castle. An' don' think of leavin' your bed at night because of your cat! It's dangerous!"

"Agreed, Sir," said Scorpius brightly and followed Hagrid, still playing with Fang. Their steps departed, and Albus was left alone. Relieved, he breathed out and turned around, facing the dark forest. Suddenly, he didn't feel very brave anymore, on the contrary; he began to ask himself if this mission wasn't pure madness. Surely, there were many dangerous creatures out there, and who would protect him? How was he even supposed to find a way to the Stone, always provided, that Percy's instrument would indeed work? And hadn't his father explicitly warned to stray near the forest at night? For a moment, he seriously considered to return to the castle as well and go to bed again. But then he remembered what Scorpius and especially Quentin had done to protect him from being detected; he couldn't cancel the whole mission after that. Albus took another deep breath and began walking into the Forbidden Forest.

O

"Very well. Is there anything left to speak about?" asked Ernie.

"Yes, there is," said Hermione forcefully. "Professor McGonagall, Professor Arrington, we have strong indications that Firenze's murderer is inside Hogwarts. The situation is extremely dangerous and the students' safety not ensured. We have to do something about that."

Professor Arrington leaned back. "What do you suggest?"

"Interrogate suspicious teachers. Unheralded. And we will start with Tyron Smethwyck. I have always distrusted him; his intentions are obscure to me. He is unfriendly and solitary. Why did he leave the Auror office? He doesn't seem to be the teaching type, is he? So why did he take the post at Hogwarts? Is he hiding something? And according to Professor Arrington, he sometimes leaves the castle. We will interrogate him, with Legilimency, if it should turn out to be necessary."

Arrington snorted.

"Interrogate him? Legilimency? Do you actually know him, Madam Weasley? Tyron won't let anybody interrogate him, and obviously he is a very strong Occlumens."

Ernie frowned. "It's not as if we had to ask for his permission. The Ministry of Magic has the monopoly on legitimate use of magical force, after all."

Arrington laughed. "You're completely insane. Or just naïve. You honestly think, Tyron Smethwyck would subjugate himself to Legilimency? Then I hope you know, Mr Potter, that Tyron could duel your whole Auror Office at once and would most probably win. We are talking about one of the most powerful wizards of our time! Besides, I'm sure Tyron is innocent."

Unfortunately, Harry couldn't help but agree with Arrington's judgement of the plan to question Smethwyck. But he wasn't sure that he was innocent at all, and besides, didn't like the way Arrington was talking to such high-ranked officials as Ernie or Hermione.

"And you know this because?" he asked sharply, leaning forward.

Arrington took a deep breath. "Very well. I suppose I should tell you the whole story. Otherwise you won't believe me anyway." He cleared his throat and took a sip of water.

"Firstly, you must know that Tyron and I were classmates at Hogwarts. I was a Ravenclaw, whereas Tyron was sorted into Gryffindor. From the beginning of our school days, I was brilliant in everything I did. I excelled in every subject; many teachers started to favour me. At that time, I was not exactly modest, as well. Tyron, on the other hand, was a natural duellist from a very young age. No one, not even I, could match his skills in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Apart from that, however, Tyron's performance was only mediocre. He wasn't that bad, of course, and eventually got enough OWLs and NEWTs to become an Auror anyway. But his performance in, say, Transfiguration or Charms, was nothing in comparison with mine. Tyron had always a very strong self-concept, he couldn't bear to be anything but the best. He was highly envious of me; on the other hand, he was arrogant because of his superiority in Defence Against the Dark Arts. But don't get me wrong, this arrogance didn't prevent him of working hard. No, Tyron surely was never a lazy person. Often, he defied me to duels; I confess that I redoubled my efforts to become a master duellist. I knew I couldn't match Tyron's natural power, his high-energetic spells, so I learned to influence my environment, transforming or enchanting it. I invented new spells, to surprise Tyron; in short, I did everything in my power to defeat him in that one field he was superior. Of course, Tyron did the same. We both had outstanding magical talent, and with our massive efforts, we both became master duellists. We were rivals, hard rivals, and although we always respected each other's skills, I disliked Tyron, to say the least, and he hated me. We were clever enough not to get caught by teachers during our duels, although I'm absolutely sure that Dumbledore must have known. Down to the present day, it's a complete mystery to me why he didn't do anything about it. Our duels were of course not on life and death, but they were nevertheless very dangerous. We both tried out new and brutal spells, if one of us had made a mistake, the huge energy that was released in our fights could have killed us. Thank god, we were never seriously hurt. Then, in our fifth year, something occurred I will never forget. Tyron's friends, I won't tell you their names here, attacked me. It was a well-thought ambush, I had no chance. They humiliated and tormented me, with a brutality I would never have expected from 15-year-olds, and certainly not from Gryffindors. It would not have taken much for me to be permanently harmed. Tyron came around and saw what they were doing. Our eyes met, and I feared he would help his friends torturing me, or even kill me on the spot. At that time, our rivalry was culminant. He was certainly clever enough to make it look like an accident. Instead, Tyron drew his wand and without further ado massacred his own, longtime friends. The fight was short; after ten seconds, none of them was conscious anymore. He took me to the hospital wing and left without a word. His friends were expelled. Down to the present day, none of us ever mentioned this incident again."

Arrington looked tired, and took another sip of water. Everyone in the room was listening, mesmerized.

"Years passed by, and our relationship didn't change, although we were rarely fighting any more. For the most time, we avoided each other. Minerva became my mentor and helped me to become an Animagus. Tyron and I both achieved great results in the OWLs and NEWTs, then I went on a world tour and did magical research, whereas Tyron joined the Auror Office. Shortly after, Voldemort returned and the Second Wizarding War began. I was travelling around the world and wasn't involved at all, but Tyron was suddenly right at the midst of it. The Auror Office was in a state of pure chaos, it completely broke apart, but you know that definitely better than I do. To be honest, I was very happy to have an excuse not to be in Britain at that time. I had no family anymore, my parents had died a few years before. Tyron's father, Hippocrates Smethwyck, a healer at St Mungo's, opposed the new regime diplomatically. The Smethwycks are a pure-blood family, but Tyron never showed any prejudices against Muggle-borns. I don't know how he thought about Muggles, but one of the few things Tyron and I always agreed on, was that the whole 'purity of blood' discussion was utter nonsense. No, Tyron didn't share the Death Eaters' views, but when his family was in danger, and Scrimgeour and Robards completely lost control, he stopped actively fighting the Death Eaters and confined himself to protecting his family. Tyron had never gotten along with Kingsley Shacklebolt and thus kept distance to the Order of the Phoenix as well. This was somewhat tragic, because, although he had just started being a full Auror, Tyron would have been a real challenge to the Dark Lord in a duel. He could have helped the good side a great deal; although he would never admit it, I think today he regrets that he remained passive during the war. When everything was over, when Mr Potter had managed the impossible and taken down the Dark Lord, I returned to Britain and took a teaching post at Hogwarts, whereas Tyron returned to the Auror Office. Kingsley Shacklebolt became the new Minister of Magic, as you all know. He was reluctant to employ him again, but he didn't really have a choice, as there was a massive lack of Aurors shortly after the war. Mr Potter did the only right thing and revolutionized the Auror Office, and I think Tyron never got really along with the new generation of Aurors. He wanted to delve further into the research of magical duelling; besides he wanted to prove more to himself than to anyone else that he was capable of being a polymath, being a Professor at Hogwarts. Minerva needed a new teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Tyron was the perfect candidate. Of course, he has a very headstrong concept of magic, he is sometimes unfair to students and teaching isn't fun for him. But he enjoys being left alone from the wizarding community and concentrates on further honing his duelling abilities. But I deem it utterly out of question that he is responsible for the murder of Firenze. Since I know him, Tyron never used Unforgivable curses. As far as I know, he never killed anyone, at least not on purpose. Although he hated me, although he desperately wanted to beat me in every duel, he never attacked me from behind or tricked me. No, it wouldn't suit Tyron at all to suddenly steal a colleague's wand and kill a centaur. Although I don't like him, I am sure that Tyron Smethwyck is on the right side, on our side, and I think he would be an extremely powerful ally. Please don't evoke hostility in him. That would really be a stupid thing to do."

Everyone was silent for a while after this speech. Arrington had the ability to capture everyone's imagination, when he was speaking; Harry was really impressed that the Transfiguration teacher had shared this story with them.

Hermione seemed to be less impressed. "And what do you suggest to do instead?" she asked briskly.

Professor Arrington just wanted to say something, when he suddenly flinched. "What is it, Aaron?" asked Professor McGonagall, who had noticed his motion.

"One of my enchantments alerted me," murmured Arrington. "Somebody who is not Hagrid has entered the Forbidden Forest. Probably it's nothing, but I still should return to Hogwarts for good measure. Excuse me." With this, he got up and rushed out of the room.

O

The teacher saw the boy going to the Forest. The teacher knew of the goblins' complot to capture the Potter boy. Of course, the teacher had no intention to tolerate a tug o' war between the goblins and the Ministry, on the contrary. The teacher hated goblins and would love to eradicate their whole species. Unfortunately, the teacher needed the goblins as a chaos-causing force. But the teacher surely didn't want them to achieve a more influential position in the magical world. No, the teacher would let them capture the boy and inform the Ministry about it, to cause confusion and desperation. But then, the teacher would intervene. The detergent chaos would only come if tougher measures were taken. The teacher shrouded the face and set off towards the forest.

O

Albus looked at the instrument he held in his hands. It was like a compass, with a needle pointing in a particular direction. According to Uncle Percy, it had been developed in the Department of Mysteries. Albus wondered how it worked. How could it detect something as small as a stone, something it never got even in contact with? He just went into the direction the needle was indicating, although he tried to stay on beaten paths as far as possible. Everything was quiet, ghostly quiet. Nothing crossed his way; no centaurs, no wild animals, no Acrumantulas and no werewolves. Albus interpreted this as a good sign; he had expected to meet at the very least more animals because of the light his wand was emitting.

He had completely lost his sense of time and location long ago; he had to be deep inside the forest. For the first time, he wondered how he would find his way out again. The instrument he was carrying would be useless once he had found the stone, and there was no way to get help without alerting the whole forest that he was there. Panic began to reach him, when suddenly the instrument's needle started to rotate quickly.

Albus stopped dead in his tracks and examined the ground. Right in front of him lay a small stone with an engraved sign. Albus picked it up; this was undoubtedly the Resurrection Stone. He had done it.

His joy didn't last long. Suddenly, yellow, slanted eyes appeared all around him. Albus whirled around and realized that he stood in the midst of a circle of around 30 goblins. Some of them were carrying lanterns, and all of them had knifes at the ready.

"Welcome, Albus Severus Potter," said a cruel, malicious voice. "We have expected you."