Harry Potter and the Veil
Chapter VI
Ron and Harry arrived at the Three Broomsticks with time to spare.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley."
The two boys turned around to see Tom the Barman cleaning a glass behind the counter.
"Sir," they both said, nodding at him before taking a couple of seats.
"Kingsley sent word you two would be passing through with the others," tom said placing two butterbeers down on the counter. When he saw them rustle in their pockets, he added, "No charge, boys; not for heroes."
"Er, thanks," Harry said. "Wait, there are others coming too?"
"Harry Potter?"
The two boys turned around to see an extremely beautiful girl who was about the same age as them. She had a slight tan and long, jet black hair. She was dressed muggle-rocker style, and she had smoldering gold eyes fixed intently on Harry's own. She smiled as she spotted the lightning-shaper scar on his forehead, her hand out stretched.
Harry took it in his own, admiring the softness of her grasp. "Er, yeah," he said, "This is my friend—"
" -Ronald Weasley," she cut in, turning to greet him as well.
"'Ron's' fine," he said beaming at her as he shook her hand, a little too eagerly. She blushed. "And you are?" He asked.
Her smile grew wider as she announced, "Seraphina Hughes, but you can call me Sera." With that she winked at Harry and a voice called from over her shoulder.
"Hey! Quit flirting Sera!" A muscular guy walked up from behind her. He had silver hair, though still looked very young, maybe mid-twenties. He looked down at Harry and Ron, seemingly intrigued. "Timour," he told them, "or Tim. I am Sera's brother."
"Harry Potter."
"Ron Weasly."
"Ah, no wonder my baby sister is being so polite!" He laughed a hardy laugh.
"Timmy!" Sera's face was red and she pouted, making her look much more childlike.
"What? You punched a guy in the nose an hour ago just for saying hi!" He laughed again and Ron shifted uncomfortable in his seat.
"You saw the way he was looking at me," she protested.
He kept laughing. "That's why I punched him, too!" Harry now laughed as well, but Ron wriggled further away in his seat.
That's when Tom piped up. "Okay trainees, the portkey is almost ready. You'd better hurry." He motioned to the back room. "It's this way."
At that, Harry, Ron, Sera, Tim, a blonde witch and another wizard followed Tom behind the counter. Once they got into the backroom, Tom pointed to a glowing broken clock placed in the center of the room. "Ten seconds."
Everyone quickly filed around the clock and touched it.
"Five seconds. See you kids, good luck"
"See ya' 'round" Sera sang. Harry closed his eyes.
"Three, two, o—"
With that Harry felt as his body lurched every which way at once. He felt himself curl up into nothingness then pop back into being. When he opened his eyes, he was quite confused. They were in a large castle corridor, with mounted suits of armor on either wall. It was quite familiar, much like Hogwarts, but it didn't have the same presence and there was a distinct smell of lavender and leather.
"Where—" He heard Ron begin, but that question was already being answered. Out from a large doorway came Kingsley Shacklebolt, flanked by a group of witches and wizards that Harry did not recognize.
"Sorry about the portkey," he said in his slow, deep voice. "It seems out aim was a bit off. If you please, the other trainees are already here."
"There are more of us?" Ron asked.
Of course there are, Harry thought to himself. Sera and the others with them were proof that they were not alone.
"Definitely," the Minister of Magic responded. "This way, please."
As he led them through the doors he had come from, Harry was shocked at the number of trainees already seated at various tables. This hall was as big as the Great Hall in Hogwarts, without the enchanted sky, but the tables were just as full.
"Please take a seat," Kingsley instructed, motioning to a few open seats at a nearby table before proceeding to the front of the hall, the other wizards following after him.
He cleared his throat loudly and the whole room turned to him with silent lips and curious eyes.
"For those of you who do not yet know, you are currently sitting in the Great Hall of the Shacklebolt Prison that has been in my family for many, many generations. It was at one time the Azkaban of older days; the place where the most heinous of our kind spent their last days wallowing in the guilt of what they'd done. This castle is ancient, unplottable, and impenetrable. For that reason, this place is the perfect site for the training you are about to undergo."
He took a few moments, as if considering what was in store for them before continuing. "While all of you have been deemed potential candidates, the Ministry of Magic is only interested in the best of the best. For that reason, you will be placed in groups of six and tested to see who is worthy and who shall be going home. Only half of you will remain."
"The exercise will begin in one hour, at which time you shall receive your objectives. Your groups shall be composed of those that you traveled here with, so I suggest that you prepare yourselves and get to know your teammates in the meantime."