Warm light flooded his vision. Raising a hand to block the sunlight, he blinked groggily. The events of the last night rushed into his mind like a tidal wave. Agonizing pain shot through his body, doubling him over. A wave of emotions drowned him with sorrow. Carefully he raised himself, taking stock of his surroundings. Nowhere in sight was a single house. As far as he could see, endless fields stretched to the skies. The only sign of civilization was a small country road just wide enough for three people to walk abroad. He desperately searched for a recognizable landmark. Groaning in frustration, he sat back down and buried his head in his hands. He was lost.

Harry entered Madam Pomfrey's infirmary room slowly. Vandermine waved him forward. Nodding to Hermione's limp form, he said, "The little serpent got her. Lucky for her it was too small to carry any serious venom."

Prodding her with his hand, he grimaced. "If she had done that in real life she would have been dead. Still, that's why we practice." He tilted his head and watched Harry. "Do you need me to leave?"

A feeling of uneasiness swept over Harry as he fumbled for words. "Well...It'd be nice...to talk to her..." A lump formed in his throat as he coughed on the last word. "...alone."

To his surprise, Vandermine bowed and left. As he walked out, he called over his shoulder, "Meet me after lunch."

Harry nodded absentmindedly and focused on Hermione. Curled up snugly in her soft infirmary bed, Hermione looked to the entire world like a young child resting peacefully after a long day. Her body rose and settled lightly as she breathed in and out. The only trace of her fight that remained was two tiny swelling marks on her throat. A calm feeling seeped through Harry as he gazed on her face. She looks so peaceful, so happy...

Unconsciously his hand left his side and touched her shoulder. In her sleep Hermione smiled, grabbing at his comforting hand. His hand shot back to his side and he turned away. Her eyes slowly flickered open and she let out a soft laugh.

"Hello. Professor Lupin was right when he said we had a surprise coming."

Harry gaped at her. His face rapidly changed to match the description of a ripe tomato. Hermione reached out and gripped his arm. With a casual pull she drew him closer and caught his eye.

"You okay, Harry?"

Harry's embarrassment faded from his face. Inwardly he berated himself for his immature behavior. Pulling on a false smile, he shrugged and replied, "I'm alright for a guy who almost lost one of his best friends. For a while I thought you were a goner."

Her eyes sparkled at his words. Anxiously she leaned over to him and asked hoarsely, "Really? Did you really miss me? What happened after I collapsed? How long have I been unconscious? If I have missed Potions..."

Seeing the confused look on his face, she paused and smirked. "I'm kidding about the Potions class."

Harry laughed nervously and tried to smile. "Right..." He looked over his shoulder to assure that no one was watching. "Hermione, there's something that I want to tell you."

She cocked an eyebrow at him quizzically. "What?"

As Harry started to speak, Ron burst into the room, trailed by his little sister Ginny. They rushed past Harry and surrounded Hermione before Harry could finish his thought. He caught her eye and mouthed the word "later." Then he shrugged apologetically and hurried out of the room.

I was so close, He thought. If Ron hadn't come in... He stopped at the door to Vandermine's office. He was acting childish. How could he of all people get a girlfriend? Especially with someone like Hermione, a well-read genius that he relied on for homework help. No, he chided himself, even if I'd told her she would have laughed me off.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door swung inwards, revealing the familiar face of Neville Longbottom. Both boys started in surprise, dropping their books. Harry immediately bent down to retrieve his things, apologizing under his breath. As he reached for his Potions book, his hands brushed against an unfamiliar object. He held it up and examined it carefully.

It was a beautiful cross necklace, with a thin but durable cord looped around the vertical post. The cross itself was made of polished jade and studded with rubies and opals across its lengths. At the center of the cross was a diamond so large that it seemed to weigh the cross forwards, yet the cross maintained a perfect sense of balance. Heat flowed out of the diamond, filling the air with a sense of calm joy.

Neville snatched the cross from Harry's hand. Without pausing to explain to him, he passed Harry and disappeared around the corner, leaving Harry staring after him in surprise.

What was that about, Harry thought. Did he really just do that? His mind returned to his present task. He took a deep breath and entered the room.

The sight took his breath away.

Dozens of wands and brooms decorated one side of the office. Some brooms dated back to the 1400's, while others had been produced in recent years. Under each wand was the name of a particular Death Eater defeated by Vandermine's group. Harry tried to mentally count the wands, but gave up when he reached thirty-five. Turning to the rest of the room, he surveyed the other wall.

The other side was as different from the first as fire from water. Rack after rack of pegs held more Muggle weapons than Harry could imagine. Swords, axes, maces, daggers, and even a couple guns hung from numerous wooden pegs. Harry marveled that the wall didn't cave in from all of the weight hanging from it.

Unconsciously he drew closer to a specific blade. It was what Muggles called a rapier; a slim, pointed blade that more resembled a flexible pole than a sword. He had read about these in a history class back in fourth grade. Harry reached for the grip and pulled it gently off of the wall. He tested the blade's balance, whipping the blade through the air. A feeling of exhilaration flooded through him as the blade responded to his thoughts, creating delicate patterns as it split the air.

An apple floated past him as he swung the blade. He reflexively lashed out, impaling the apple neatly in the middle. The apple slid off his sword and fell to the ground with a muffled thump. Someone clapped behind him and he jumped in fright.

Vandermine and Kathryn Stringer sat in hard wooden chairs, watching him. The two adults nodded approvingly at his swordsmanship. Harry noticed a hint of a smile on Vandermine's gaze.

"That was great for a first-timer." He said this as he rose up from his chair. "With a little practice you could challenge nearly anyone and stand a chance of winning."

Harry felt Kathryn's gaze on himself and examined his shoes. He had never noticed all of the dust caught under his shoestrings. A muttered excuse escaped his lips as he fought to control the now customary sense of giddiness accompanied by Kathryn's attention.

Vandermine slowly came around a desk and examined the rack of swords. Selecting one, he brandished it before Harry. "This sword is over five hundred years old. Merlin wore it, back when he served the king of England. It's blade is incredibly sharp, sharper than goblin swords."

Harry glanced at it for a moment and nodded. Vandermine pointed to the rapier in Harry's hand. "That one there was used by a member of the Spanish Ministry during the Inquisition, when he fought off a mob of Mug's. Didn't kill any, but injured enough to make them hightail it away. Not a killer, that one. A flat blade does the job much better."

Suddenly he barked out "Defend yourself" and raised his sword in a salute.

His blade flashed like lightning through the air. Harry ducked away the blade and felt the friction singe his hair. With a panicked jerk, he stabbed forward at Vandermine's waist. Before the blade landed Vandermine's sword slid in the way. The force of the contact shook Harry's arms. He gasped as pain shot down his arms.

Then Vandermine dropped back and attacked again, swinging low at his feet. Harry leapt over the whistling blade and whipped his sword at Vandermine's form. At the last second Vandermine dodged to the side and grabbed Harry's sword arm. His saber slashed in front of his throat, missing clearly but close enough to scare Harry.

Vandermine replaced his sword on the wall appreciatively. "That was well done, Harry. With a few weeks practice you could do much better."

Harry started to put his sword back on its peg. As he reached up, Vandermine halted him with an upraised hand. "Keep it. That sword respond swell to your touch. I've got too many swords as it is."

Gratitude filled Harry's face, although he did not know where it came from. Why do I care about a sword? What could I possibly do with it? Nevertheless, he accepted the offer unhesitantly. The blade made a slight rustling noise as he slid it into his belt. Vandermine examined his makeshift sheath and nodded favorably. An uncomfortable silence fell between them as Harry waited for Vandermine to speak.

When Vandermine remained silent, Harry coughed nervously and began. "Sir, you said you wanted to speak with me. Are you going to talk?"

Realization of what he spoke hit him like a hammer. He blushed profusely and stumbled over an apology. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong."

Kathryn laughed at his embarrassment. Blood rushed to his cheeks as he shrunk from her laughter. Her voice was so melodic, so entrancing, so wonderful... She stopped abruptly when Vandermine looked her way. Her smile remained though, and the blood stayed in Harry's cheeks.

"That's all right. After all, I am not a teacher, just security. Next time I won't keep you waiting so long." Vandermine ignored his embarrassment and returned to his seat. "When you went straight to the blade I got interested to see what you knew about it.

"When was the last time that you heard about Sirius Black?" The question jolted Harry. While it came out pleasantly, an unspoken firmness hid behind it, warning against a lie. Harry's mind raced as he searched for a way to avoid surrendering his secret.

"I'm not sure that I follow you, sir." This was true, to an extent. Harry had no idea what he meant and where the conversation would go. Resorting to feigned ignorance carried a semblance of truth; just enough to deflect a casual inquiry.

Vandermine gave Harry an exasperated look. "What knowledge do you have of his whereabouts or wellbeing?"

"Sir?" Genuine confusion clouded Harry's face.

"Where was Black located when you last heard news about him?"

Harry sighed and reviewed the reports mentally. Finally, he shrugged and admitted, "I cannot remember."

Vandermine rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Do you mean to say that there is a maniac killer out after your blood and you don't know where he is?"

Harry bristled indignantly. "I most definitely do not mean that, sir! At the moment, I am not able to draw that memory out! If you called me here to interrogate me about that psycho, you would be better off asking Snape, or Hagrid, or Dumbeldore. How am I supposed to know more than them?" Anger drained from his mind. He exhaustedly crumpled into a seat and exhaled loudly. "Sorry, sore topic."

Vandermine blinked slowly as he waited for Harry to calm. "I know it's a sore topic. I am sorry for that. What I called you in for had nothing to do with Black himself. It just so happened that Sirius Black was sighted in a nearby village. This poses a serious threat to Hogwarts' school. Naturally, it is my job to find any evidence that could help counter this threat.

"What I called you here for originally has nothing to do with Sirius or any other security-related problems." He leaned forward and fixed his gaze on Harry. "How well can you fight?"

Shock overrode any harbored feelings as Harry gaped at Vandermine. "How well can I what?"

"Fight. Except for yesterday's lesson, I have had no examples of the quality of magical aptitude produced by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft etc... I am toying with the idea of adding a Dueling Club to Hogwarts repertoire of extracurricular activities."

"A what?"

"A Dueling Club. Surely, you have heard of them. Not like the one last year. This is the real thing. Hogwarts is the only major wizarding school without one. Adding one more competitive sport to Hogwarts couldn't hurt."

With the caliber of people here, it could most definitely hurt. "What exactly do Dueling Clubs cover?" Curiosity crept into his voice. The prospect of an extra activity seemed daunting with his schedule.

"Oh, this and that; a little dueling, a bit of races, a touch of fencing..."

Harry stumbled over the word 'fencing.' Only Muggles did that. "Fencing?"

Vandermine looked at Harry with a patronizing expression. "Fencing in this case would be the art of magical fencing. It resembles normal human fencing, except bladed wands are used instead of normal blades. Every wand is custom-made to fit a particular fighting style. These wands incorporate appropriate spells that compliment the style involved."

"It sounds fun."

Vanderine's voice answered deadpan and harsh. "It is extremely hard to master and sometimes fatal." Vandermine noted Harry's look and softened his tone of voice. "Fencing would be reserved for the most advanced members. Nothing is nearly as dangerous as fencing with untrained people.

"Of course, Dumbledore has yet to approve of this idea. You are the second person to hear of this outside of my squad."

Harry nodded appreciatively despite the dread piling in his gut. "I'm honored, I think."

Kathryn rose from her seat and headed toward the exit. As she passed Harry, she turned and smiled at him. "Don't tell anyone about this unless Dumbledore gives an official announcement. Early gossip would place Dumbledore in a hard spot, something we wouldn't want."

Harry gulped and willed his cheeks to stop blushing. He absent-mindedly made a swipe at his unkempt hair and ducked his head to avoid her gaze. With a laugh, she waved to Vandermine and exited the room.