Chapter 16
Crown Versus Malfoy
Finally, the end of the week arrived, and with it the class Harry had been eagerly anticipating: Transfiguration, their first class of the morning. He had liked Tonks since the day he'd first met her, two years ago at his aunt and uncle's house; the Order of the Phoenix had come to collect him – or rescue him, as Harry had thought of it, from them. He coaxed a sleepy Ron out of bed and they got ready for it, the only class they had that day, a double.
At breakfast, as usual by now, Hermione was already there with her copy of the Daily Prophet. She greeted Harry, nodded coolly at Ron and went back to reading the paper as they began eating breakfast.
"More information about the Mystery Vault Tournament in the paper this morning," she said casually. "It looks like your brother Bill will have something to do with it, Ron." Ron looked up at once, interested.
"What's it say?" he asked through a mouthful of fried potatoes.
Hermione read from the paper. "Mr. Bill Weasley, a Cursebreaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank, announced the rules of the upcoming Mystery Vault Tournament in a public statement in the square outside the bank, where the Mystery Vault is now on display. Mr. Weasley, 27, who has been employed with Gringotts Wizarding Bank for the past nine years, was chosen by Chief Goblin Artag to be the referee and judge of the Tournament rounds, which were scheduled to begin the second Saturday of September.
"Rule 1: The decisions of the Judges in the Mystery Vault Tournament shall be final.
"Rule 2: Any Being, or Team of Beings, may compete in the Tournament. Every individual Being in a team shall be considered a separate Competitor.
"Rule 3: All Competitors in the Tournament shall Register their intention to compete with Bank Tournament Office, and pay a registration fee of 100 Galleons." Ron groaned.
"Rule 4: The Vault shall be deemed Open when the Judge rules that the front door of the Vault is unlocked and any and all beings have clear and unrestricted access to its contents.
"Rule 5: The Tournament shall be deemed Completed when the Judges rule that a Competitor has successfully Opened the Vault; the Competitor(s) that Opens the Vault shall be deemed the Winner(s) of the Tournament. Each Winner shall have an equal share of the contents of the Vault, less a Five (5) percent Finder's Fee payable to the Bank.
"Rule 6: All registration fees become the sole and perpetual property of Gringotts Wizarding Bank, and all claims or demands of the Vault's contents, except those of the Winner, are considered null and void when the Tournament is Completed.
"Blimey, they sure like making rules, don't they?" Ron whispered to Harry, who grinned.
"Rule 7: Competitors shall Compete in the order of registration, which shall be announced immediately before their competition Period. Each Competitor shall be assigned a Period of 30 minutes in which they may attempt to Open the Vault. A Competitor that Waives their 30 minute period will be rotated to the end of the current list of Competitors; they may Compete or Waive their period. A Competitor that Competes but fails to open the Vault is removed from the list.
"Rule 8: The Bank reserves the right to refuse Registration to any potential Competitor for any cause, or to refund the registration fee in lieu of allowing the Competitor to participate in the Tournament."
"Ha!" Ron said under his breath. "Fat chance of that lot giving back gold once they've got it."
Harry could see, looking around the Great Hall, that other people were reading the Prophet article as well. The place was buzzing with conversation. As he looked along the Gryffindor table, he saw Ginny and Jon leaning over a copy of the paper together. Ginny glanced up, saw Harry, and waved. Jon looked up a moment later and waved as well. Harry nodded, not liking the feeling that clutched at his chest whenever he saw Ginny with Jon.
Harry glanced at the High Table, hoping Tonks was there, but she had not appeared for breakfast, lunch or dinner yet this week. Ginny, who'd already attended one of Tonk's Transfiguration classes, absolutely loved her teaching style, even though Tonks herself seemed to think she wasn't a very good teacher.
Next to him, Ron and Hermione were beginning to bicker over the rules of the Tournament. Not wanting to hear any of it, nor wanting to watch Jon and Ginny reading the paper together, Harry grabbed a piece of toast and his book bag and stood, leaving the rest of his breakfast unfinished. "Oi! Harry!" Ron said as he jumped up from the table. "Where're you headed?"
"Forgot something!" Harry lied. "See you in Transfiguration class!" He raced out into the entrance hall, then slowed to a brisk walk. He made his way to the Transfiguration classroom, intending to sit and brood in silence until Tonks or his classmates showed up.
As he entered the classroom, however, he was surprised to find it already occupied, coincidentally by the very person he'd been looking for earlier. Nymphadora Tonks looked up from the book she was bent over, equally surprised. She looked older than Harry remembered her, with her hair now a dark brown and pulled back in a bun reminiscent of Professor McGonagall's. The lines of her face were thinner and harder now, also like McGonagall's. In fact, except for a pair of glasses, Tonks now resembled a youthful version of the Headmistress.
"Sorry," Harry said awkwardly. "Didn't mean to surprise you."
"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks said with a smile. "Just getting ready for my first seventh-year class." She seemed as glad for the interruption, though, as he was to see her. He walked up to her desk. "Haven't seen you in a while," she said, looking him over. "How are you getting on?"
"Okay," Harry shrugged. "I've been looking for you at the High Table, but you haven't been down to breakfast yet this year."
"No," Tonks said, looking away. "I've been busy with – this," she finished, waving at the pile of books and folders full of parchment scrolls on her desk. "I'm almost sorry now I gave my teachers such a hard time in school – I never realized how much hard work goes into teaching a class. Much less teaching seven different years of it!" she added ruefully.
"Why did you give up being an Auror?" Harry asked. The question popped out of him without conscious thought. It also brought Tonks up short. She stared at him for a long moment, clearly weighing what to say.
"It was just time for a change, I reckon," she said finally. "I don't know if I can explain any better than that for now, though."
"Okay," Harry said simply.
"Then this thing came up to teach at Hogwarts, and McGonagall needed me here, so here I am," she added, giving him a smile that Harry felt for some reason was forced.
"One thing I do regret, though," she said softly, leaning toward Harry, "is that I was originally going to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, not Transfiguration. But Snape was cleared of the charges against him, so –"
"How'd that happen, anyway?" Harry cut over her, anxious to know what had happened.
Tonks stole a glance toward the classroom door, then looked back at Harry, her expression serious. "It's a bad business, Harry. Bad. They tried every spell they could think of on that letter, but every one of them said that Dumbledore wrote it of his own free will. No Imperius Curse, no Transliteration Charm, nothing at all out of the ordinary, except that some of us don't think Dumbledore could have written such a thing while in his own mind."
"I wondered about it, too," Harry said honestly. "Snape had to have forced Dumbledore, somehow."
"About the only thing that makes any kind of sense is that Snape just outfoxed Dumbledore, plain and simple," Tonks said plaintively.
"I don't buy that," Harry said in flat refusal. "He was onto Malfoy's plotting for almost the entire school year. He even said he didn't expose Malfoy so Voldemort wouldn't have a reason to kill him or his family. I just can't believe he could be fooled so completely!"
"I can't either," Tonks agreed. Her attention shifted to the corridor for a few seconds. She turned back to Harry and said, "I hear other students coming. Why don't you take a seat and we'll try to continue this discussion sometime later?"
Harry hurried to a desk and Tonks went back to her reading. A few moments later a group of seventh-years filed into the room, including Ron, Hermione, Jon, and a few Ravenclaw students, including Deirdre Recaunt.
"Where'd you go?" Ron said as he sat next to Harry, as usual in Transfiguration class.
"Forgot my book," Harry said glibly, wishing he didn't have to continue lying. "Plus I didn't feel like sticking around listening to you and Hermione argue," he added quietly, so Hermione, on the other side of Ron, couldn't hear. Ron looked at him, reproachful, but didn't argue.
Still looking in Ron's direction, Harry noticed that Jon had sat next to Deirdre and was talking quietly to her. Hermione looked in their direction as well and Harry saw her gaze linger on them for several seconds before turning back to the front of class.
The class was almost full. At the last moment, Malfoy slouched in, alone, and sat near the back of the class at a desk by himself.
"Good morning, everyone," Tonks began with a friendly, yet business-like, smile. "I hope you're all ready for your final year of N.E.W.T.-level training. You're going to find it an interesting one: we'll be looking at the different levels of Conjuration magic, at special types of Transfiguration magic such as Animagi and transubstantiation magic, and – Mr. Malfoy, is there a problem?"
Everyone turned to look back at Malfoy, who had evidently fallen asleep leaning on his elbow and now, startled, bolted upright. "Er – no, no problem here," he said, sounding bored.
"Let's try to stay awake then, shall we?" Tonks said pleasantly. She continued describing the subjects the class would cover that year; Harry, stealing a glance back toward Malfoy, saw him looking darkly at her, his eyes brooding. He caught Harry looking his way and pointed at his eyes with two fingers, then at Harry's, as if to say, "I see you, Potter." Harry turned away.
Tonks began then lesson, and Harry could see why Ginny liked her as a teacher. She was an engaging instructor, speaking easily and explaining her points well, giving clear examples and performing simple enchantments to illustrate them.
Halfway through the double class she had everyone pair off to work their practicals. Harry, as usual, paired off with Ron. Hermione looked around for a partner; as it turned out everyone had already paired off except Malfoy. "Mr. Malfoy," Tonks gestured for him to come to the front. "You can pair with Miss Granger." Both Ron and Harry tensed up, sensing disaster brewing.
"Sorry, Professor," Malfoy drawled. "I don't pair up with Mudbloods." Several students around Malfoy gasped at his rudeness.
"That slimy git," Ron muttered, his wand out and ready. "He's just asking for it."
"Tonks can handle it," Harry said in a low voice.
Tonks hadn't reacted immediately to Malfoy's slur. "Ten points from Slytherin for language, Mr. Malfoy," she said briskly. "Come up front, please." Malfoy slunk sullenly to the front of class.
"Since you're not happy with Miss Granger as a partner, let's see if we can find someone a bit more to your taste," Tonks said, pretending to look over the class. "Harry," she said. "How about you? Hermione can partner with Mr. Weasley."
Harry didn't much care for the idea, but he was smiling inwardly at the look of loathing on Malfoy's face.
Tonks saw Malfoy's look as well. "No?" she asked solicitously. "Mr. Potter's not acceptable either?" Her smile hardened. "Well, it's either partner with him or lose 20 more points for Slytherin, and detention this weekend to boot. Your choice, Mr. Malfoy, but make it quick and stop wasting everyone's time."
Malfoy looked at her resentfully, then moved slowly around to the far end of the desk, to avoid walking past Hermione or Ron, who budged over to make room for Harry and Malfoy.
"Splendid!" Tonks said cheerfully, as if she and Malfoy had just become fast friends. "Now, let's start your Conjuration practicals."
The practical was to Conjure and Vanish a list of objects they had transfigured from previous years in Transfiguration. The list became more complex the further down it went. One student Conjured the object, the other student Vanished it. Then they switched. For this lesson the objects were fairly simple: pins, buttons, a quill, ink bottle, goblets, a fork. There wasn't anything on the list Harry felt he couldn't handle.
Malfoy, however, kept insisting that Harry Conjure the object first, then he would Vanish and Conjure it back for Harry to Vanish. About the time they got to the button, Harry cottoned on that Malfoy was simply casting a Disillusionment Charm on the object to make it appear to Vanish, then removed the charm so it seemed as if he'd Conjured it.
"Been skiving off your reading assignments?" Harry said in a low voice. "Conjuration spellwork a bit too rough to follow, is it?"
"Mind your tongue, Potter," Malfoy hissed. "It's bad enough having to stand this close to you, never mind having to help you with your schoolwork."
"Too bad your bodyguards aren't here to help you," Harry taunted him. "You gave them a lot of tutoring in Potions last year – how many little girls did you have them turn into, anyway?"
"Watch what you say about my friends," Malfoy snarled.
"I guess I should," Harry pressed. "They're the only two you have left, aren't they? Everyone else in your House thinks you're a weasel – or should I say – a ferret?"
Malfoy's face turned red, from embarrassment or anger, Harry wasn't sure. His wand was shaking, and Harry was prepared to disarm him, when Tonks appeared in front of them. "How's it going, gentlemen?"
"Fine," said Harry shortly.
"Great," Malfoy spat.
"Wonderful, glad to hear it," Tonks said blandly. "So tell me, Mr. Malfoy – why is there a Disillusioned quill in front of you?"
"I – er –" Malfoy began.
"Nevermind," Tonks cut him off. She waved her wand and the quill appeared in front of them. With another wave of her wand it Vanished, this time for real. "Conjure me a new quill, Mr. Malfoy," she ordered.
Malfoy glared at Harry for a moment, furious for being caught out; then, concentrating mightily, he waved his wand at the empty desk in front of him. There was a soft crack and a single, dreadful-looking pinfeather appeared.
Looking at the feather, Tonks observed, "Needs a little work, doesn't it?"
"Potter's been taunting me," Malfoy said angrily. "Making fun of my work! It's no wonder I can't concentrate with him as my partner!"
Tonks did no more than glance at the look of shock and anger on Harry's face before saying, "Ten more points from Slytherin for telling porkies, Mr. Malfoy."
"I'm not lying!" Malfoy shouted. "You're just showing favoritism to him because he was supposed to be somebody all those years!" He looked right at Harry. "And now you're nobody," he said viciously.
"Right, that's detention, then," Tonks said, finally having had enough. "Report to my office this Saturday and Sunday at 10 a.m., Malfoy."
"No! I've got to go to – I've got to be somewhere!" Malfoy said, incensed.
"Yes, you do," Tonks agreed. "You've got to be in my office, or answer to the Headmistress. Now go take your seat."
Malfoy stood there, red-faced, looking ready to explode, but Tonks stared him down. He finally turned and stomped back to his desk at the back of the room, where he was silent for the rest of the period. When Tonks dismissed the class he grabbed his book bag and bolted from the room.
Later, in the Gryffindor common room, Ron was still chortling after listening to Harry recount his conversation with Malfoy. "I still remember when Moody turned him into that ferret," Ron said, his sides shaking with laughter.
"The fake Moody, you mean," Harry reminded him.
"Right, but who cares?"
"At least he was punished this time for using language like that," Hermione said. "I'm used to it, but it was nice to see something done, for once."
"Yes, Tonks did alright for our first class," Ron agreed. "Now Malfoy's got it coming tonight and this weekend too."
"I don't know why you're looking forward so much to that wizards' duel between him and Jon," Hermione sniffed.
"Mainly because Malfoy's a slimy git," Ron said.
"Well, besides that, I mean," Hermione shrugged. Harry chuckled.
At that moment there was a thumping sound from the opening to the common room; someone was banging on the portrait of the Fat Lady, or the wall, outside. Harry could hear someone who sounded a lot like Crabbe shouting "Jonathan Crown! Come out!"
Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at each other for several moments. Nobody in the common room had moved; Harry couldn't remember anyone trying to get into the Gryffindor common room since his godfather, Sirius Black, had tried to break in during Harry's third year at Hogwarts.
"Well, don't just sit there like great lumps!" A hysterical Fat Lady had appeared in a portrait hanging near the entrance, jostling the witch who'd been sitting there napping. "Someone get out there and stop that, that troll, from breaking my frame!"
Harry and Ron both jumped up and ran to the entrance. "Stop banging on the portrait!" Harry yelled.
"Tell Crown to come out!" Crabbe yelled back.
"He's not here!" Harry shouted.
There was silence for a few moments. Then, "Potter, is that you?"
"Yeah, who'd ya think it was, Voldemort?!"
There was a long period of silence. Harry smiled to himself, expecting that Crabbe and whoever was with him had winced at Voldemort's name. Finally, Crabbe said in a threatening tone, "Potter, just get your great prat out here, now!"
Harry drew his wand and pushed the portrait open, followed closely by Ron, who'd drawn his as well. Crabbe, and as expected, Goyle, were standing on the other side, glowering at them.
Both of them, Harry noticed, were looking somewhat the worse for wear: Crabbe had a black eye and fat lip, and Goyle's trollish face had several good-sized bruises on it.
"What's up with you two?" Harry said aggressively, hoping to throw them off-balance and keep the initiative with him and Ron. "You look like you both lost a fight. Malfoy been slapping you around or what?"
"Just never you mind who's been slapping us around!" Goyle snarled, then said "Ow!" as Crabbe elbowed him in the side.
"Shut it, you lump," Crabbe said roughly. "He said let me do the talking."
Harry filed those responses away for further thought later; no wonder "he" (probably Malfoy) had told Goyle not to talk – he'd just given away some interesting information.
"Are you two gonna be Crown's Seconds?" Crabbe demanded.
"Yeah, we are!" Ron answered.
"Malfoy says he'll meet Crown at the time and place on this," Crabbe said, holding up a scrap of parchment. He held it out for Harry to take, but Harry, with a flick of his wand, levitated it out of Crabbe's hand and into his own.
"Malfoy says, if Crown don't show it proves he's just a great chicken who can't back up what he says," Crabbe continued in a loud voice, speaking as though from memory.
"Yeah, chicken!" Goyle added, looking at Crabbe, who nodded. Then, to Harry and Ron's great amusement, they began flapping their arms and making chicken noises. "Chicken! Chicken! Bawk! Bawk! Bawk!!" Both of them continued this for several seconds. Harry felt Ron's hand on his arm, trying to keep himself from falling over. Somehow, Harry managed to keep a straight face until both Slytherins stopped clucking and flapping their arms.
Harry and Ron were both shaking with silent laughter, their faces about to burst. Crabbe was apparently rethinking the wisdom of making such a taunt; he tried to look menacing and said, "If Crown or you get any ideas about backing out, remember that!" He pointed behind Harry and Ron. "And that goes for you, too!" Rubbing their knuckles and chuckling trollishly, the two turned and disappeared down the corridor.
Harry and Ron turned, expecting to see Hermione, but instead there stood Colin Creevy with his ever-present camera.
"Oh, Colin," Ron said, almost like a prayer, "tell me you took a picture of them doing… that," Ron flapped his arms as they'd been doing.
"Yeah, a couple," Colin said, looking a bit nervous. "When I heard someone pounding on the picture of the Fat Lady I ran and got my camera – I thought maybe Sirius Black was back, or something."
Ron pointed at Colin's camera. "Whatever you do, Colin, don't lose those pictures!"
At lunch Harry, Ron and Hermione caught up with Jon and gave him Malfoy's note. Jon sat down with them and unfolded it to read:
Crown –
On the 7th floor where the wall hanging of the idiot trying to teach trolls how
to dance, at 10 p.m. We'll see who's the better wizard then.
He also enjoyed Harry and Ron's attempt to tell him about the confrontation with Crabbe and Goyle outside the Gryffindor common room; they took quite some time doing it, because Ron kept bursting out laughing as he tried to tell the story, and Harry wasn't much more successful at it than he was. Soon everyone nearby was laughing, either at the story or at Ron and Harry's attempts to tell it.
Over at the Slytherin table, Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy, sitting apart, were glaring balefully at the Gryffindor table. The other Slytherins were either ignoring them or having their own laughs about the three. Ginny had been right, it seemed; none of them was in good standing with the other Slytherins at the moment.
The merriment at the Gryffindor table was beginning to die down. "So what was the note about, then?" Seamus Finnigan asked. Harry and Ron had carefully avoided mentioning the contents of the note, hoping no one would ask after it.
"It's just Malfoy trying to rile me up saying he's a better wizard than me," Jon said idly. "But he can't even perform a simple Conjuration spell yet, so I'm not taking him too seriously."
"That oughta be funny," Seamus said, holding out his hand. "Let's see the note, then."
"Sorry, I already Vanished it," Jon said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I didn't think anyone would care to read Malfoy's rantings."
Disappointed, Seamus drifted away. Ron, Harry, and Jon started lunch. Hermione had already gotten herself a salad and was starting it as well when another figure approached them and said quietly, "Hello, Jonathan."
Jon looked up. It was Deirdre Recaunt. "I just wanted to thank you," she said with a shy smile, "for the help you gave me during Transfiguration class, and afterwards, for explaining things to me."
"You're welcome, Deirdre," Jon said. "I'm glad to help you in any way I can."
"Professor McGonagall had warned me that seventh-year Transfiguration was a difficult class, but I wanted to try it anyway," Deirdre continued.
"You did fine in class," Jon smiled. "Professor Tonks just has a lot to cover this year, I'm sure she wanted to get a jump on the material she has to go through." Jon pointed to an empty seat nearby. "Do you want to have lunch with us?"
Deirdre looked at the chair, clearly wanting to sit there, but said, "I'm not very hungry right now, but perhaps later, at dinner…?"
"That would be nice," Jon said.
"Thank you," she said again. "I hope I can call upon you for more help in class, I know I'm going to need it."
"Yes, anytime."
"Thank you. Bye!" Deirdre turned and walked back toward the Ravenclaw table.
Ron stared after her as she left. "I wonder why she asked you instead of one of the Ravenclaw seventh-years?" He wondered aloud.
"Probably because she knows the best when she sees it, mate," Jon said, giving Ron a smug smile. There were several teasing jeers from the table, including Harry and Ron. Harry noticed that Hermione wasn't smiling; she hadn't, not even once, since Deirdre had come over to talk to Jon.
That evening, Harry, Ron and Jon met in the common room about an hour before the appointed time with Malfoy to discuss strategy. And, Harry added to himself, to see if Jon really wanted to go through with it. He had more than proven his ability to Harry; proving it to Malfoy was irrelevant. Jon, however, was adamant about going.
"In Texas," he said, "we don't like to back down from a challenge. I accepted Malfoy's and I'll show up to defend myself against his claims. He might back down. If not, well, I do have a hankerin' to clean his clock for him."
"He tried something like this before," Harry pointed out. "He challenged me to a duel during our first year."
"But instead of showing up, he sicced Filch the caretaker onto us," Ron continued, a dark look on his face. "We had the devil's own time trying to get back to the common room – chased by Filch's cat Mrs. Norris – and Peeves snitching on us…"
"And we met Fluffy that night, too," Harry said ruefully, remembering.
"Another cat?" Jon guessed.
"Nooo…" Ron rolled his eyes. "The biggest, meanest three-headed dog you'd ever hope to meet."
"Three-headed?" Jon said in wonderment. "A hellhound?"
"Yeah," Harry said dryly. "He was Hagrid's pet. Hagrid's our groundskeeper," he added. "And the Care of Magical Creatures teacher."
"Do you think Malfoy will try that trick again?" Jon asked, in a way that suggested he clearly didn't think so.
"No, probably not," Harry said. "But I expect him to have something up his sleeve. He'll always look for an advantage if he can get one."
"And our advantage is, we're going under your Invisibility Cloak and with your Map," Jon said in a low voice, so no one else in the room would overhear.
"Right," Harry said. "It'll tell us if anyone other than those three are about."
Finally, a few minutes before 10 p.m., making sure that no one was looking in their direction, Harry got out the Invisibility Cloak and he, Ron and Jon got underneath it. They moved slowly to the entrance and pushed open the Fat Lady's portrait, then moved off down the corridor toward the tapestry of Gregory the Barmy.
Approaching slowly, they halted some distance away. Harry got out the Map, tapped it with his wand and muttered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Instantly the Map filled in the drawing of the castle and grounds, showing the various clumps of labeled dots that were its students and staff. Looking ahead of their position on the Map, Harry pointed to the dots labeled "Draco Malfoy," "Vincent Crabbe" and "Gregory Goyle" moving aimlessly ahead of them. They scanned nearby corridors. "Looks like the coast is clear," Harry whispered.
He tapped the map, muttering "Mischief managed," and put the now-blank parchment away, then pulled the Cloak off them, folded it and stuffed it into his robe and straightened it. Then he and Ron, led by Jon, walked down the corridor to meet the three Slytherins.
"Well, well, look who's showed up," Malfoy sneered as the three Gryffindors came into view. "Thought you'd chicken out."
Jon smiled while Harry and Ron chortled outright. Crabbe and Goyle reddened, then both cracked their knuckles threateningly.
"Well looky here," Jon said, affecting a southern Texas drawl. "If'n it hain't Moe, Larry and Curly, together agin." He was looking at Crabbe's soupbowl haircut and grinning.
"What?" Malfoy said, bewildered but irritated at being mocked. Harry and Ron glanced at each other as well; they had no idea what Jon meant, either.
"Never mind," Jon said with a chuckle. "You just reminded me of three very well-known Americans from a long time ago."
"Are you ready to fight, or not?" Malfoy demanded angrily.
"Whenever you are," Jon shrugged.
"Prove it, then," Malfoy said. "Make the Room of Requirement appear."
"That's a load of dung!" Ron said hotly. "You wanted this location, Malfoy – you make the Room appear!"
"He accepted the challenge, Weasley," Malfoy sneered. "He needs to prove he really wants to fight me. So if he can make the Room appear, it will prove that."
Jon turned to Harry and said quietly, "You said you've been in this room before, Harry – what do I have to do to get it to appear?"
"You walk by this section of the wall," Harry pointed at a blank spot opposite the tapestry showing Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet. "Concentrate hard on what you need. If your need is sufficient, a door to the Room of Requirement will appear."
"Alright," Jon said. He paced back in front of the wall several times, appearing lost in thought. But nothing happened. After he'd tried several times, Malfoy chuckled nastily.
"Looks like you don't really want to fight me, Crown," he said smugly. "Just as I thought – chicken!" Crabbe and Goyle started to flap their arms, but Malfoy hissed "Stop it!" and they froze in mid-flap. Harry and Ron snickered.
"We'll just see who wants to fight, Blondie," Jon drawled. "Step back – gimme some room to operate." Taking a deep breath, he walked slowly and determinedly back and forth along the corridor, deep in concentration.
As he turned and paced for the third time, a heavy oaken door appeared in the blank wall. "HA!" Ron crowed. "You did it!"
Harry looked at Malfoy, expecting to see him worried by the room's appearance, but Malfoy had a subtle look of triumph on his face. It disappeared even as Harry looked, replaced with an emotionless mask.
Jon pulled on the large brass handle. The door opened slowly, creaking, and he stepped in, followed by Malfoy, then Crabbe and Goyle, and lastly Ron and Harry, who pulled it shut behind them, knowing that it would disappear from the corridor once closed, but would still be visible on their side.
The room that had appeared was square and expansive, equipped for a duel. There was a large mat on the stone floor, with tables at opposite ends. Harry examined some of the items on one of the tables: there were towels, a small hourglass timer, some jars of yellow paste like the stuff Fred and George used to treat bruises and such, and a tube of ointment labeled "Professor Bonebrake's Ache-Away." A few chairs stood were scattered along the walls of the room.
Malfoy and his crew had stopped at the nearer table; Jon, Harry and Ron walked across the mat to the farther one. Once on the far side of the mat, Harry motioned for Jon to lean in closer and said in a low tone, "Malfoy was smiling when we walked in here; I'd be careful if I were you."
"I'll be careful," Jon agreed, "but he's not going to get off easy. I've been waiting all week to kick his butt. Let's go, Harry."
Jon and Harry stepped back onto the mat and approached the middle; Jon's wand was drawn. "Well, Malfoy, here we are at last," Jon said evenly. Are you ready to cross wands or not?"
Malfoy smiled triumphantly and swaggered up to Jon. His own wand wasn't drawn. "Who said anything about using wands?"
Jon frowned. "You did. You wanted a wizard's duel, remember?"
"I wanted a duel," Malfoy drawled, raising both hands and making them into fists. "I'm the one who challenged you and I get to say what weapons we use. I want to use bare fists."
"What?" Harry said, gaping at him. He and Ron looked at each other in shock. Malfoy, wanting a fistfight? That didn't seem logical or even reasonable, given what they knew about Malfoy.
"What are you playing at, Malfoy?" Harry demanded, stepping up to stand between him and Jon. "We thought you wanted a wizard's duel."
"I never said, 'wizards' duel,' " Malfoy pointed out. "I asked if Crown wanted to 'duel.' You just assumed that meant a wizard's duel."
"What else should we assume – you couldn't even beat up a girl unless Crabbe and Goyle were holding her for you!" Ron taunted him. "I thought you were going to cry when Hermione hit you that time!"
"Never mind that," Malfoy said dismissively. "Right now the question is, is Crown going to fight me man-to-man, or is he chi– is he afraid?" he finished with a baleful glance at Crabbe and Goyle.
"Let's do it," Jon said simply.
"All right, then," Malfoy said, smirking, and both he and Jon returned to their respective corners. Malfoy pulled off his school robe, revealing a pair of black, silken trousers, a sleeveless T-shirt and white trainers. Harry saw that Malfoy's build was nothing like the thin, drawn scarecrow he'd been last spring before school ended; he was now much more muscular. How could Malfoy have built himself up so much in just a few months, Harry wondered. It had taken his cousin Dudley several years of dieting and training to go from obese to merely stout. Of course, the answer had to be – magic.
Jon removed his own robe, revealing a pair of blue jeans and a white T-shirt. He was wearing a pair of trainers similar to Malfoy's. His body was rather softer and thicker, however; once again Harry was reminded of Neville Longbottom. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" he whispered to Jon, concerned at what Malfoy might do. The Slytherin looked like he could tear Jon apart.
"Don't worry, Harry," Jon said softly, watching Malfoy warming up by running in place and shadow boxing. "I've been in a few fights, myself, back in Texas. "I'm curious now to see what he can do."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Harry said, worried, watching Jon stretch and shake himself out.
"Right, let's do this!" Malfoy said loudly. "The rules are, we fight until one of us either concedes defeat or is knocked unconscious. Each of us can call for a timeout once during the match. When time is called, one of the seconds will turn the timer; if you're not ready to fight when the timer runs out you forfeit the match. You got that?"
"Got it," Jon said calmly.
"Then let's go!" Malfoy said, stepping out onto the mat and assuming a fighting stance, facing Jon. It was utterly strange to watch Malfoy behave like this, Harry thought. He moved around Jon, who pivoted to keep his guard facing the Slytherin. Crabbe and Goyle were shouting from their corner, taunting Jon and telling Malfoy to hit him, that Jon was going down, and other unpleasant comments.
Malfoy began throwing punches. Some of them were feints, trying to size up Jon's reactions, while a few looked in earnest, but Jon was holding his own, keeping distance between them, backing away from Malfoy's punches. Finally, though, one of Malfoy's fists tagged Jon along the side of his chin, staggering him for moment; Jon raised his hand and the bottom of Malfoy's foot came up hard into Jon's abdomen. Jon gasped and fell to his knees. Crabbe and Goyle cheered, while Harry and Ron groaned.
"Good one," Jon commented, regaining his feet with a grunt of pain. "Now, let's see what else you've got." He came at Malfoy with short straight punches that Malfoy backed away from, jabbing to hold Jon off, then suddenly jumped into the air in a spinning back kick that Jon narrowly avoided.
Neither Harry nor Ron could believe it. "Are we even sure that's really Malfoy?" Ron said, incredulous at his display of fighting prowess.
"Dunno," Harry said shortly. "Won't make much difference who he is, though, unless Jon can hold him off."
"But can he beat him?" Ron wondered anxiously. "Malfoy looks out for blood."
Malfoy was out for blood, pressing a vicious attack of jabs and swings, with kicks towards Jon's legs and midsection that Jon seemed to be only barely avoiding as he dodged and weaved around the mat. After about a minute of pursuing Jon, Malfoy stopped, breathing heavily, and said, "Come on, Crown! Stand and fight like a man instead of running away!"
"I haven't run yet, Blondie," Jon said mildly. "Just letting you show us your stuff." He went into a fighting crouch similar to Malfoy's. "But if you really want a fight, then come and get some!"
Jon moved in, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and tagged Malfoy on the side of his face, dancing back out of the Slytherin's longer reach when Malfoy tried to counterpunch. He did this a couple more times, seemingly at will, as Malfoy swung desperately, trying to connect. The next time Jon moved in, a bit too slowly, Malfoy's arms came up, blocking his oncoming fist, only to discover it was a feint for a hard sidekick from Jon's right foot that lifted Malfoy off the mat and dropped him on his back a half-dozen feet away.
Both Harry and Ron whooped at seeing Malfoy so unceremoniously dropped. Crabbe and Goyle were urging Malfoy to his feet, and Malfoy stood, glaring murderously at Jon. He rushed forward, arms outstretch to grapple with the American, who fell away, rolling onto his back so that Malfoy ran right into his legs, and Jon thrust him, flailing, into the air, so that he landed on his back in the far corner, in front of Harry and Ron.
They both regained their feet instantly, however, and Malfoy rushed in again, this time successfully grabbing Jon as he tried to wrestle him to the mat. One of Malfoy's legs swept Jon's out from under him and they both went down, using knees and elbows to inflict punishment. Here it looked as if Malfoy's new muscles gave him the upper hand; he was pressing his forearm into Jon's throat, choking him. Jon was trying to apply pressure to the arm, to throw Malfoy off. Crabbe and Goyle were calling for a "sleeper hold," whatever that was.
Suddenly Jon reversed the hold, locking one of Malfoy's arms with his own and immobilizing the other with a half-nelson. Malfoy tried to scuttle away but his legs couldn't get enough purchase against the mat to be effective. Jon put an arm around Malfoy's neck and began to apply pressure…
Malfoy was nearly passed out when Crabbe and Goyle suddenly rushed onto the mat. They'd almost reached the pair by the time Harry and Ron reacted and rushed forward as well. Goyle grabbed Jon and pinned his arms in a bear hug, chest to chest with him. Jon struggled for a moment against Goyle's brutish strength, then slammed his forehead into Goyle's nose. Harry heard it snap as he moved toward them. Goyle howled in pain and grabbed his face, backing away, blood flowing between his fingers and dripping onto his robe.
Ron was rushing toward Crabbe, who had pulled a dazed Malfoy to his feet. Crabbe drew his wand and pointed it at Ron, who stopped short. Malfoy, enraged, pushed Crabbe's wand aside and stepped up to Ron, hitting him three times in the face and chest. Ron dropped like a sack of potatoes.
Malfoy turned to Crabbe and said, "Go!" Crabbe turned and ran toward the door, yanked it open, and fled. Malfoy turned back to Ron, now curled around his middle, moaning, but at that moment Jon stepped up and swung hard, catching Malfoy in the side of the face, sending him staggering backwards.
Goyle was going for his wand, but it had barely cleared his robe before Harry pointed his own wand and shouted "Expelliarmus!" sending Goyle's flying into a corner. Disarmed, Goyle froze, leaving only Jon and Malfoy still fighting. The "duel" had turned into an all-out brawl.
Still enraged, Malfoy was swinging wildly at Jon, who was evading his fists until Malfoy left himself too open: Jon stepped around Malfoy's flailing arms and sank a fist into his stomach, doubling Malfoy over. Jon pushed him upright with one hand then simply slapped him hard, open-palm, across the face. Malfoy's face registered shock, then pain as Jon slapped him again with the other hand. He tried to duck away from Jon's last blow, overbalanced, and fell to the ground.
Goyle, seeing this, dashed to the corner, picked up his wand, and ran out the door. Harry watched him leave, his wand pointed at toward the Slytherin until the door slammed shut behind him. He then went over to where Ron was slowly trying to regain his feet, one hand on his jaw, the other pressing tenderly holding his ribs
Jon stood over Malfoy, who was glaring up at him, his face crimson from Jon's slaps. "Ready to call it an evening, Draco?" he asked. When Malfoy said nothing, Jon went on. "I suppose your buddies Crabbe and Goyle are off calling the cavalry to come to your rescue. We'll be on our way, then. Just remember this, Malfoy: In the future, don't mistake my disinterest in kicking your butt for an inability to do so. You and your pals steer clear of me and everything will be cool. You got that?" Malfoy didn't move or respond; he just continued to glare at Jon, who turned away, walked over and picked up his robe, shrugging into it as he walked back to Harry and Ron.
"We'd better take off," Jon said. "Crabbe and Goyle are probably bringing help."
"Yeah but – ow – nobody in Slytherin wants anything to do with them anymore," Ron said, grunting as they started walking toward the door.
"A teacher, or their Head of House might," Jon said. "That's Snape, isn't it?"
Harry turned quickly to look at Malfoy, who was still sitting on the floor, rubbing his face, but with a cold smile now on his lips, as if things were going exactly the way he wanted them. "Yeah, it's Snape," he said, glaring at Malfoy. Malfoy winked at him and made a small kiss in the air.
"Yeah, we better get going," Harry agreed. He and Jon each took one of Ron's arms and they walked briskly to the door, opened it, and went out into the corridor. The corridor was empty and Harry quickly got out the Invisibility Cloak; they got underneath it and moved as quickly as they could to the first corridor intersection.
Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map, activated it, and carefully scanned the corridors between where they were and the Gryffindor common room. They were clear. He checked other areas of the map. "Here's Crabbe," he said, locating his dot on the map. "He's in Snape's office, "but I don't see Snape there. And Goyle…" Harry smiled grimly. "Goyle's in the infirmary. Okay, let's get back to the common room." They started slowly down the corridor. Harry continued to check the Map to see if Snape was heading their way. But something was wrong with his eyes – they kept blurring and watering as he looked for the figure labeled "Severus Snape" on the Map. What the hell was wrong with him?
Soon, nearing the entrance to the common room, Harry examined the Map once again. Inexplicably, Crabbe was still in Snape's office; he hadn't moved since Harry first saw him there. Beside him, Ron grunted in pain and Jon asked him, "Are you doing okay, Ron?"
"Fine," Ron said through gritted teeth. "Malfoy just caught me a good one, feels like he bruised a rib."
"We can fix it once we're inside the common room," Harry said. "I think I've got something –"
Suddenly the Invisibility Cloak was yanked away, revealing the three of them only feet from the Fat Lady's portrait. She was half asleep in her chair, but at the sudden motion she bolted upright, exclaiming, "Oh, my word!"
The three of them spun around to find, to Harry's horror, Professor Severus Snape standing there holding Harry's Invisibility Cloak. Where had he come from? Harry thought wildly. There had been no one around them just moments before –
"Well, well," Snape said, a thin smile creasing his sallow features, "Look who's been skulking about the school corridors again, as if he owned the place." Snape glanced at Jon, then said, "Potter, can't you and Weasley find anything better to do than corrupt visiting students?" Harry said nothing, hardly daring to think, much less to speak, so great was his rage at Snape.
"Good evening, Professor," Jon said courteously. "They were just taking me for a little tour of some of the finer points of interest in Hogwarts Castle."
"Indeed? Wouldn't it be easier to have a tour without wandering around under Potter's Invisibility Cloak?" Snape said, his tone dripping sarcasm.
"Well, I've never seen one before, and it was an added treat to see how it worked," Jon said smoothly.
"It's a bit late for touring the castle," Snape sneered, "with or without an Invisibility Cloak."
"I believe our curfew on Friday nights is 11 p.m., Professor," Jon replied blandly. "We still have a few minutes before it's time for us to be in our common room."
"Ah. So you do," Snape conceded. "Very well, then, you'd best be off so you're not caught out of bounds." Hardly daring to breath, the three of them began to back toward the portrait; Harry willed Snape to turn and leave.
"But – before you go," Snape suddenly pointed behind Harry. "Potter, what is that in your hand?"
Harry's heart leapt into his throat. "Nothing, sir," he said dully. "Just a piece of parchment."
"Let's see it." Snape extended his hand, snapping his fingers impatiently. "Quickly, Potter, don't dawdle."
"It's n-nothing, really," Harry stammered. He was trying to move his wand behind his back to touch the Map. "Just – just –"
"Quiet!" Snape commanded, sensing he was up to something. "Don't say another word, Potter," he said tightly. "Just hand over the parchment. Don't move anything but the hand holding it."
Suppressing a sigh, Harry brought the Marauder's Map out from behind his back and held it out toward Snape, who took it and held it before him, reading the words across the top of the Map in large green letters:
Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs
Purveyors of Aide to Magical Mischief-Makers
are proud to present
The Marauder's Map
Snape's eyes narrowed, but he did not look surprised; instead, he glared angrily at Harry. "Where did you get this?" He demanded. Harry said nothing. Snape's eyes scanned the map, his dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. "This cannot be what it purports to be, a map of the school," he said dismissively. "Hogwarts is Unplottable."
"Sir, it's nothing, really," Jon said, stepping forward to point at something near the bottom of the Map. Snape's eyes followed it downward. "Just a bit of – mischief managed." As Jon said this his wand, held in his other hand, tapped the underside of the Map. At once the lines and lettering on the parchment faded to invisibility.
"What did you do!?" Snape hissed in fury. Jon stepped back into line with Harry and Ron. Snape turned the parchment over and over, searching for any other writing on it.
Finally, his eyes flashing with frustration and anger, Snape thrust the parchment toward Harry. "Bring back the map! Reactivate it!"
"No," said Harry.
"I order you to reactivate this map, Potter!" Snape shouted.
"I won't!" Harry shouted back.
"Detention, then!" Snape screamed. "All three of you, tomorrow morning at 9 a.m.!"
"I'll never tell you how to get that map back!" Harry shouted defiantly at Snape. "You can give me detention for the rest of the year, you're NEVER going to find out how to work it!"
"Oh, no?" Snape said, his expression now quite mad. "Very well, then!" He dropped the Map onto the floor, then took out his wand and pointed at it. The Map burst into flames.
"NO!" Ron and Harry both shouted. But it was too late – in a swirling burst of yellow fire, the Marauder's Map was consumed.
Snape stood stock-still a moment, breathing heavily, his eyes wild, looking at Harry as if daring him to do something, anything. When Harry did nothing but glare back at him with a look of utmost loathing, Snape turned on his heel and strode away, leaving the three of them and a wide-eyed Fat Lady staring at the smoldering ashes of the Map.