(A/N All Harry Potter characters belong to JKR I'm just having fun with them)

Chapter 12

Minerva McGonagall was angry, "so much for a relaxing summer break," she thought. All because of bloody Barty Crouch, and his bloody get-popularity-quick schemes. It seemed to her that he couldn't help but try to regain his former glory, but involving students by reviving a stupid and dangerous tournament? It was politics at its most foul. Not only that, but if rumors were true, then Fudge was also trying to revive things better left in the past, in her opinion. She nearly hissed aloud, the can of worms an Heir test would open was nearly incomprehensible. Sure, it would fill some of the High Seats, and give new life to old family names, but the down sides were going to fall right in her and her fellow professor's laps. Old magically binding contracts recognizing those who wear the family rings, marriage contracts formed, who knows how long ago, becoming active once again, and blood feuds between rival houses. Not to mention, there would be Lords of the Wizengamot here at Hogwarts, waiting to take their place, possibly being manipulated into assigning stewards till they come of age. Not only that, but she had to organize and exchange classes with Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang's, professors.

"Min, have you heard?" Asked Filius Flitwick, the charms Professor, in his squeaky voice, preceding him into her office.

"About the Tournament, or the rumors of an Heir Test?" She retorted, slightly waspishly.

"Not just rumors anymore, the Wizengamot approved. There will be a test, on the First… of September."

"Of all the damnable…" she put her hands on her desk, leaning forward, breathing through her nose forcefully. "I'll need your help Filius, there is much to do, and we must prepare for the fallout. This will cause even more dueling between students; emotions will be high from all the changes. Also, the North Tower will need to be opened, for any couples of age, and required to marry." Minerva moved briskly, pen and parchment in hand to make notes.

"Very well, I'll see to informing the elves…of all the times for Albus to be away locked in an ICW conclave." Flitwick promptly headed for the kitchens, his legs moving quickly as he walked.

In the offices of Gringotts, goblins were busy working; they had received a memo about the Heir Test, and had to work quickly to protect their interests. One goblin alone got a different message.

Bloodcurdler read his missive with a grim expression, and for a goblin, that looked down right feral. He was Account Manager for the most Noble and Ancient House of Black. The Malfoy brat stood to inherit due to the current heir's criminal status. That would give too much power, both financially and politically, to a family who looked down on other creatures, to the point of pushing restrictive laws through the Wizengamot. This was not in the best interests of the Goblin Nation. So, measures would have to be taken to prevent this. The goblin looked over the Black family tree, and through all the notices of disownment, till he found a name. This person could assume control with a little help, and if rumors were true, and they usually were, it could be prosperous to the goblins. Bloodcurdler began to write a letter…

Harry sat in a conjured chair half asleep, Owen stood occasionally, jumping up and down, or waving his arms around trying to stay awake. He was cursing Barns and the power he put into the stunner, as he kept watch over Bill's inert form at the top of the stairs. Barns himself was asleep, and was part of the reason Harry was not, other than being in a creepy old temple that is. The rhythmic rasping was grating on the nerves, and Harry was tempted to stun him as well. Bill had been carried up through the wards several hours ago, and still no movement. It was the Pepper up Potion's fault, or so Barns said, he put more energy into the "light" stunner that he shot at Bill. Now at least he knew why they packed so much food, you never knew what to expect. He stood and cracked his back, it was nearly time for him to take over the watch on Bill. Not that he could control the Bronze Warrior currently crouched protectively over Bill, its shield between him and the wards. It took several more shift changes before the sun started to rise, and Harry pulled out even more of the food Dobby had packed.

They sat around eating a roast cold, not that it couldn't have been charmed warm, just no one felt like making the effort. Bill was still out, Owen was ready to bring him back.

"Why not give him a little shake, help him wake up?" Barns asked, after Owen was talking about bringing him back. Owen nodded and turned to the warrior, but nothing happened.

"Charm's expired, damn, I can't believe I forgot to renew it during the night."

"Well, recast it now then!" Barns declared, as if it was common sense.

"I can't, it's too far away; besides, the effing wards prevent spells from passing," Owen's words were heated; he was angry at himself and ready to take it out on the first target. That just happened to be Barns.

"Bloody lot of good that does us!" Barns said, squaring up to Owen.

"STOP! Just everyone calm down!" Harry yelled. "First, if we need to, Owen and I can go back and get another statue to come up, and…err lift that one out of the way, and bring him down if needed. Before that though, can either of you make a loud noise like a firework or something? Maybe it will wake him."

Owen paused, looking sheepish, that did make perfect sense. A little ashamed of his actions, he nodded.

"Right, sorry Barns, I got a little worked up there."

"Me as well, sorry." Barns turned toward the stairs, and cast a spell like Bill had done to signal for help with the spiders. The red sparks flashed up the stairs, and exploded with a loud pop on the ward's barrier. Bill sprang up, eyes wide; unfortunately for Bill, a large Bronze groin was directly in line with his face.

CRUNCH! His nose took the brunt of impact, and he yelled incoherently about hexing Forge or Gred. Barns watched the effect of his spell, and the results from below. His howls of laughter cut the morning silence, soon joined by Owen and Harry, in a more subdued manner.

A large crow that looked out of place circling the temple paused in flight, before swiftly flying back to camp. After landing, the crow, now Lone Feather, walked into the Big Tent.

"I heard a noise that sounded like that Barns, he seemed in pain, he was screaming, I think."

Alessandra looked up at that, confused as to what to do. If they left to go inside the temple, someone in need of help might return, but what if someone inside needed help? If they did could she make it in?

"What should we do?" Her voice full of indecision and stress.

"If that group ran into something they couldn't handle, what could we do?" Denny whined.

Lone Feather turned away; he would wait, if only a little longer before going in. Memories of a snake around his neck played in his mind, honor would allow he do no less.

Click…Click, Fred snickered, the sound muffled by George's hand on his mouth. Ron was currently locked at the lips with horseface, the girl was named Denisa, but her long pinched face and shrill voice made them cringe. Fred raised the camera they had bought, and clicked it again, the blackmail material just too good to pass up. They were hidden on a small hill, looking down at Ron's not-so-secret hiding place.

"Is everything ready for tonight?" Fred inquired, fighting the desire to laugh. It seemed as if Ron kissed like he ate, consuming everything in sight, with spittle flying. With his blatant, disgusting face-sucking, turnabout would be fair play.

"Of course, brother mine, little Gin-Gin will be slipping him the potion as she sets the table tonight. She's quite disgusted with him after walking in on them, and their 'highly inappropriate behavior', not that I blame her. Feel a little sick to my stomach; now come to think of it." George said pompously, in imitation of Percy, while he looked down at Ron. Secretly, they were impressed at their older brother, claiming his independence and getting his own flat, even if his job at the Ministry sounded horrible. Dinner came, and was the usual lively affair, the twins eyes watched as Ron drank all his juice, and Ginny surprisingly volunteered to get him more. Her smile would have made them cringe if it was directed at them; it simply reeked of evil intent.

It was dark as two forms moved through a musky smelling tent, a prone blob floating behind them, snoring from a potion induced sleep. One carried a small sack, the other directed the blob, a small blur darted out of a room, thrusting a camera into the lead forms' hands, and then disappeared without a sound. A murmured voice was heard saying, "scary", as the forms moved through the night, their planned adventure coming off without a hitch.

Ron awoke slowly, stretching after a peaceful sleep, the sound of birds chirping loudly, waking him fully. His blue eyes opened slowly, to a world of green leaves, and then kept opening wider and wider, clearly now in panic. The grass below him, had a huge pile of steaming dragon poop, directly under him. He noted that his blanket was still wrapped around him, and he was currently hanging in it from a large tree. The only dragon enclosure with a tree left, was the Swedish Short-Snout; it had nearly cooked him just the other day, during a tour. Ron panicked, grabbing out for the tree, his blanket fell, covering the middle of the poo pile, as Ron hung, his grip slipping; whatever sticking charm the Twins had used to attach the blanket to the tree had failed. With an inarticulate yell, Ron fell, landing on his blanket. It was like landing on a water bed, squishy and soft. Then quite unlike a waterbed, it stunk…bad…as a warmth crept up on him. His blanket, and him, were sinking into the pile. If he wasn't screaming so loud, he would have heard a rapid clicking noise.

Bill lay on his back, his memory only slightly blurry, whether that was from traveling through the wards, or the wake up call, was unknown. After extracting himself from under the statue, he looked around. Harry and the others were waving up at him, with expressions of relief and humor. Based on the light coming through the window behind them, it was still day. He had been out maybe an hour, he thought. Why the worry? They just had too little faith in his plan, it was mildly insulting. Things were going perfectly, except for the nose thing.

The landing was small, in part due to a pillar carved in runes. It was the lynch pin of the whole setup. The main charging and control runes were here, when he dropped this, they were home free. A locking rune was tied to the door leading to the top room; it would remain locked as long as power still flowed in this scheme. The problem Bill faced, was space and protection, this could blow if it had too much power stored up.

"Piertotum Locomotor," Bill's spell took control of the Bronze Warrior, moving him to a position guarding Bill from the Pillar. This was it, the risk was his, time to use that Gryffindor courage.

"Stand ready," Bill called out, "I'm gonna take it down!"

"Defodio," Bill muttered quietly, the spell gouging out the charging runes that were feeding power to the main wards, around the Temple, and its larger protections. He braced himself quickly, head in hands, tucked behind the bronze warrior. The pillar split, and cracks traveled up. As if in slow motion, large chunks of rock were falling, and clattering down the stairs from the crumbling ward load stone. With a great static-like pop, the wards on the temple collapsed. Harry jumped forward as soon as the rock stopped tumbling down the stairs, rushing to get to Bill. He heard footsteps behind him, meaning he wasn't the only one. Bill was already up by the time they made it to the top, dusty and bloody from his nose, but with a large grin.

"We did it! Shall we finish this up together then?" Bill asked, pointing at the now unprotected door. Together they advanced, into the last room.

The Entrance Chamber was now lit in a dull glow, enough to see the food they were eating. Nearly a hundred different stones now had a faint glow. The draw on its energy was great, but how much more could they add? Would it be enough to overload the dampening field? Ian could feel the strain on the wards, as he attempted to cast a blasting hex. It worked, sort of; a small pebble sized hole joined many others on the stone blocking the exit.

Belle was trying to remain calm, but now that all the rocks had been turned into light stones, all there was to do was wait. She had hoped that whatever was powering the Dampening Field would overload, but it seemed that it was still holding. Her hands were sore, the tapping of a hammer over and over had caused blisters, and listening to Ian going off about non-magical traps, and how he underestimated them, was tiring. She could see Xo sitting still, looking but not seeing, his sight turned inward as he waited, and Annalisa was sleeping, using her cloak for a blanket, and backpack for a pillow. The water and food they had eaten a few hours ago, was causing her to be uncomfortable, she had to go pee. Maybe when her sister woke, she could hold up a cloak like a screen.

Ian tried again after a few minutes, the guilt at having trapped them by only looking for magical traps, not allowing him to rest. He watched something he had never seen before, his feeble blasting hex left his wand weak; but as it flew, it gained in strength, hitting the stone full force, taking a large chunk out of it. However, he was not able to tell how much, all the light runes were now working full force as well. It was bright, fully eye-watering bright. He felt, rather than saw, Xo move up next to him and join in the casting. It didn't take long until a hole was made. They all rushed out into the not so bright, noonday sun. The trip back to camp was exhausting, focusing on anything other than the relief of being free was impossible. Food and rest were needed, as well as a loo, and then they could return to the temple if it was necessary.

Harry looked around the room, it looked like a private room. The first thing that was done, was a quick sweep for traps, the owner must have figured if someone got this far, then enough was enough, because there were no more. It could have been that they lived in here, and didn't want to set one off on themselves. Harry would never know, and really could care less, all he wanted was to collect the Ring thing, and go. A large table to the right was littered with random artifacts, all seemed to be magical, almost piled up, ready to be packed. That was what Barns did, dumping the lot into a sack he carried. Bill was looking at things on a shelf, when a gasp drew everyone's attention. Owen had found the Ring, it was glowing with power, inside a pack already made up, and resting by the door. With it, were all the items that the Wizard Advisor to the King had valued most.

"Wow, would you look at that? It seems he was on his way out, but became trapped by the Spanish. That explains why there were no bodies, he was the last one left, and couldn't leave." Bill said, with respect for a worthy adversary. "But, where is he at?"

"I think I know," said Harry. He led the others up a trap door leading to the roof. They saw a stone altar with dark stains, and the weathered remains of a Wizard who gave his all to protect the temple, and the treasures it contained. The view was stunning, their camp was just visible in the distance.

"There are Ian and the others," Barns pointed to the group walking below. "Wonder what happened to them?"

"The faster we pack up, the sooner we find out," Owen said, heading down the ladder, Harry and Barns hot on his heels. Bill took one last look around, wanting to remember this, his first victory. Bill gave a bow to the remains, and uttered, "You did it. For many, many years it was safe." Then turned and headed down to help the others.

Far off, in a dense part of the jungle, a spirit wandered. Long forgotten was its reason for staying tethered to the mortal realm. It paused, as it felt the tethers to this life loosening. It began to fade, sighing in relief, as it moved on to the unknown, its reason for staying now released.