Happy Birthday Darloudasha ! I may get another chapter out soon too. The reviews have been wonderful, I appreciate them greatly.

Bring on the conflict.

Thanks,

Merick

Chapter Eleven

There were thirty-three of us by my count, sixth and seventh years; seventh years being that hodgepodge of real seventh years and the eighth years who had missed out on their NEWTS for death eater reasons. Everyone was dressed in their house colors, so I stood out pretty badly as the only scarlet and gold Gryffindor in a sea of green, yellow and black. Oh well, I remember thinking to myself, it was an exercise, and it didn't matter who belonged to who, only that we all learned something from the experience. Everyone had huddled around me and we had gone over a few of the spells as a quick review for those who had not been able to attend that afternoon. That was a good feeling, I don't mind saying. I never said I didn't have an ego; even if it was taking a bit of a beating at that point.

Minerva and Ron had gotten up on a little stage that she must have transfigured from something else; I didn't have time to look around the hallway to sort out what was missing. Ron was practically vibrating he was so excited, I'm surprised that the Slytherins didn't break out into a chorus of 'Weasley is our King', but I suspected that had more to do with Minerva's presence on the stage than any streak of politeness on their parts. Ron looked desperate to start talking but Minerva spoke first. She commended us all for our dedication to our studies, and our willingness to work together. She told us how proud she was of us, and how we reminded her of the founders of our school, who had banded together for the greater good when wizarding kind had required it. I wondered to myself if she had a pile of these speeches tucked away in her desk somewhere to pull out as the occasion required, or if she made this stuff up on the fly. I guess it wasn't a gracious thought on my part.

After charging us to do our best she gave the podium to Ron who held his head up high, bless him, and finally gave up his secret.

"Hey everybody!" The Hufflepuffs were polite, the Slytherins rather charged with energy. "I know you all know that we've set up a course inside the Great Hall, filled with traps and spells that you have to discover. But we decided to make it a little more interesting. There's a prize involved now you see." He looked over at Hermione for some reason unbeknownst to me, perhaps for reassurance, and then continued. "There's a special dagger hidden in the hall, guarded by a number of spells. It's made of Hungarian Horntail Dragon scales, and will cut through most anything; a nice addition to any potions kit, or Dragonologist arsenal. Whoever finds it, and frees it from its charms will win it." He was so obviously pleased with himself for coming up with the idea.

He told me later that it had been Charlie who had sent it for him. I guess one of the Horntails he had been corralling had shed a number of scales in its distress. Charlie managed to collect up a few and had them turned into daggers; they really weren't big enough to be swords, at only six inches or so. But he thought they'd be a useful tool for him, and as gifts for friends. Ron had talked him out of one, just for the contest. Charlie thought it seemed a good idea, and apparently George thought they might be a nice product for the shop, if Charlie could get any more. I don't think the Ministry approved that idea.

The addition of a prize caused a bit of buzzing amongst my team, and I have to admit it made me a little more nervous, and not just because I would now be expected to come up with something to offer for my turn on Friday. Draco, who had been standing at my right hand during the speeches, nudged me with a little grin.

"I think I'm going to have to try to win that one Potter. Give me hand?"

"Okay." I agreed before thinking about it. Not that it really mattered.

"You've encountered a dragon like that before haven't you?" Now he was whispering.

I had, during the Triwizard Tournament, another thing I tried to avoid thinking about, because that was when Cedric had died and my blood had allowed Voldemort to become corporeal again.

"Do you remember anything unique about it?" Now I saw where Draco was going.

"It had bronze horns."

"Do you think the Dragonologist that made this dagger might have used bronze as the hilt?"

"A very good possibility Draco." Charlie was a purist, I would have laid money on it that he had incorporated bronze into the dagger somewhere. As it turned out, I would have won that bet. In that moment, Draco reminded me a great deal of Hermione, she would have thought of that too.

Ron stepped down from the stage and Minerva opened the doors to the Great Hall for us. It was not immediately apparent to me, as I wasn't at the front of our little throng, but it had been completely transfigured and was hardly recognizable from dinner, only thirty minutes before. I had to give Ron credit, it was some complicated magic and his team had done a great deal of work in such a short time, demonstrating how strong their skills were.

Rightly or wrongly I gave Ron credit for organizing the team, but I doubted very much he had come up with the design for the room. Sadly, it seemed to me that Ginny might have been the influence there. I looked over to see if I could pick her out in the crowd. I wanted to see her face, and I wondered if she had any idea what the vision of her configuration was doing to me.

Instead of the tables and chairs, and house banners hanging from the ceiling, the Great Hall was dark looking and closed in. The body of it was full of rows on rows of shelves, each holding multitudes of scrolls, glass phials, and globes and all manner of magical looking items. It was the Hall of Prophecies in the Department of Mysteries. And it made me stop dead in my tracks.

I cursed under my breath. I had not counted on psychological warfare. Draco recognized it as well, I could tell by the haunted look on his face, and I wondered if the same wide-eyed stare graced my own. It was here that I had lost Sirius, knocked through the veil between life and death by Bellatrix's curse. And it was here that Draco's' father, acting as a Death Eater in the service of Voldemort, was captured and taken away to Azkaban. I didn't know if Draco had seen him since. This place had been changed specifically to hurt Draco and I, to try to neutralize our drive and skills, and I have to admit, as sick as I felt seeing that place again, and remembering the loss of my only wizarding family there, I was angry. I was angry at Ginny for thinking of it, I was angry at Ron for going along with it, and I was angry at Hermione for not stopping either of them with her common sense, and friendship for me. And I was going to use that anger then, to best that place, and show them that I was better than they were giving me credit for. I looked at Draco, and I know he could see the fire behind my eyes suddenly.

"We can do this Draco." I whispered to him between clenched teeth.

"I know we can Harry."

And we stepped into the room together. The last face I saw, as they closed the doors behind our group was Hermione's, she saw the same expression Draco had, and I could see the regret in all her features, regret that she had allowed this to happen.