Hello! I just wanted to say how happy I am with your reviews and follows! thank you so very much! oh, and I'm not, nor ever will I be, J.K. Rowling. just sayin'. okay enjoy!

Things Are Happening

As Harry walked home that night, he noticed that the sun was setting earlier. Winter was approaching. Although Harry's favorite season was summer, he didn't mind winter as much as he should. Granted the nights were unbearable at times and it was getting darker sooner, but it was the sights that made it truly remarkable. The brilliantly pure snow would cap the shops and the paved streets and it even brought the smallest of beauty to the pureblood mansions. Half-bloods couldn't afford putting festive lights about their modest quarters, but the one thing they did appreciate about the pure bloods, was their taste in such décor. And if one were to pay very close attention, one would hear the faint tinkle of voices, singing. But the Christmas season was far away, seeing that it was barely October.

After a half mile of walking, Harry finally reached the region in which his blood class lived in. As a product of the Great War, each blood class lived in their own regions and each region was of equal distance to the Hogsmeade city and of equal distance to each other, it was just that the pure bloods lived more elevated.

The sound an owl's flapping snapped Harry out of his thoughts. He looked up and spotted his snowy owl, Hedwig swooping down towards him. Reflexively, Harry stuck out his arm and Hedwig landed gracefully on it. She clicked her beak appreciatively before nipping him gently on the ear.

"Let's get inside. Unless you want to stay out here," Harry offered.

Hedwig gave a small chirp and flew off of Harry's arm and to, well wherever owls like her go. Harry shrugged and made his way towards the half-blood home. But instead of entering through the front doors, Harry went around the building to the back. The room that he shared was on the second floor, the third window to the left. Luckily, some of his roommates were in there, he could make out the outlines of bodies from the light of the lamp. Harry took out his wand and used it to slide the window open and looked both ways making sure the area was clear.

"Hey!" Harry called as softly as he could, "Dean! Seamus!"

There was a small commotion within the room and Dean's head poked out of the window.

"Blimey, Harry! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Dean called back as he swiftly scanned the area, checking for any 'security officials'. Snatchers loved to come around this time of night.

Noticing Dean's unease, Harry started to feel edgy as well. "Sorry, didn't mean to. Just help me up."

The dark skinned boy left the window for the briefest of a moment and returned with his wand and a block of wood. Dean lowered the block from the second story with his wand and it landed with a faint thud. Harry knew the drill. He rushed over and hopped on, placing both feet firmly on the block. Harry nodded; their secret signal.

"Wingardium Leviosa," whispered Dean.

Slowly but steadily the wood block rose above the ground until it reached the window and hovered there. Harry caught his balance and lowered himself inside the room, sighing in relief. Dean flicked the wood block inside and shut the window tight.

"You really need to start being careful, Harry," Dean advised. He shoved the block under his bed to the very back. "You're lucky I was here."

"Yeah, thanks," Harry shuddered at how warm the room was, at least compared to outside, "Lucky we devised this plan," he joked, trying to lighten up the mood.

Harry expected to see a smiling Dean, but instead his roommate's face was quite the opposite. Dean looked apprehensive, his eyebrows furrowed and he bit his lip, which Harry replied with a questionable look. Dean shook his head, but reluctantly continued.

"Look, things are…happening. I can't explain it, but there's a sudden change. In the weather, in the atmosphere—" said Dean in a low voice.

Harry eyed Dean curiously. "Well for starters, it's fall. So of course, it getting colder—"

"People are disappearing, Harry."

Harry stared straight at the door, trying to absorb what Dean had just said.

"How do you mean?" Harry had a small hunch racking the back of his brain.

But before Dean could answer, the door burst open, causing both boys to jump. In the doorway, was a breathless Seamus, hands on knees and panting.

"Harry—Cattermole … coming—now," Seamus said between pants, "He's—angry."

Harry, who was sitting on his bed, stared at Seamus in dread. Dean gave Harry a foreboding expression.

"You better get your story straight. Cattermole's been cracking down bloody hard now."

With that, Dean and Seamus left the room, not wanting to watch the events that were to occur. On their way out, Harry could hear Mr. Cattermole's voice booming through out the corridor.

"Get out of my way!" he shouted. Harry heard a thud against the wall, signaling that his blood class leader pushed his friends aside. Harry braced himself for the worst.

Mr. Cattermole flung the door open and his eyes searched for Harry.

"I thought I heard you up here," Mr. Cattermole growled. He took a step forward, dangerously closing the gap between them.

"I'm surprised your hearing is as good as ever, sir. With all the yelling…" retorted Harry, who was discreetly trying to take a step back. Mr Cattermole, however, was too tired to respond to Harry's retort.

He pulled Harry by the ear with a hard grip, Harry winced in pain.

"Mr. Potter, do you realize how many times you have broken the curfew?" Harry shrugged, but even he was curious about the number.

"No, sir."

Mr. Cattermole clenched Harry's ear even tighter. "By my count this is the fourth time."

Surprised, Harry said, "Oh."

" 'Oh'? Potter, you are on very thin ice here. One more, and you will pay the consequences."

Harry was in so much pain that he though about prying Mr. Cattermole's hand off, he can certainly feel the blood starting to trickle down his neck.

"No supper," Mr. Cattermole yanked Harry's ear down for good measure and left without another word.

As soon as he left, the other boys quietly came back in from the opposite direction. Harry started to massage his ear and neck, when he realized something.

"What time is it?" he asked his roommates, wiping the back of his ear with his sleeve.

Seamus glanced at his battered watch. "Almost 10 o'clock. Why?"

"Duelling," Harry said simply, the boys immediately understood. "Are any of you going?"

They both shook their heads.

"I went last night, won a few sickles," Dean explained. Harry turned to Seamus.

"Went a few days ago, lost the damn match," he said grudgingly lifting the sleeve of his shirt to display a severe looking cut. "But I'll get 'em back next time."

"Who was he?" Harry knew a few competitors names, mainly because he was there at least once a week.

Seamus hadn't caught the wizards name or remembered the face, and maybe being a tad drunk afterwards didn't help.

"Dunno, but he's got pretty mean wandwork"

"Harry, maybe you shouldn't go, after what Cattermole said," Dean pointed out. "Why are you always out?"

The question caught Harry off guard, for him it was such common sense.

"Are you meaning to say that you'd rather stay here all day than be outside?" he asked incredulously.

"If it means not getting beat up everyday then, yeah," Dean defended. Seamus nodded his head in agreement. For a split second Harry thought about skipping this time, but a tug in his heart said that he had to, he needed the money.

"Sorry, but I've got to. That's my only income," said Harry, finally seeing why Hermione couldn't leave her job, and his heart tugged once more.

Seamus and Dean looked dismal, they had really wanted to stop their friend from leaving tonight. But they understood, so they clapped Harry on the back for good luck and watched him climb down and out their window.

Every time Harry would sneak to his 'night job', a sense of guilt would always situate in his chest. The thing about dueling was that it was an 'underground' activity. In fact, Harry was almost positive there was a rule against it in his codes of conduct. But nevertheless, small groups of wizards and witches, meet up every night far below Hogsmeade city to earn a few extra sickles or even galleons. Other than a few scams and sketchy beverages, there was one major flaw in night dwelling, nothing was off limits, meaning that wizards were injured and sometimes killed. Of course something like this would frighten Harry, but the blood classes that would compete didn't know a whole lot of dangerous spells, most spells casted were not that perilous. Once in a while, there would be a wizard or witch who did know some pretty damaging ones, you just hoped that you didn't have to face them.

But the most dangerous part about all this was being caught by Snatchers. Once someone would get caught by one, there is no telling what would happen next. Sometimes they disappeared for days, maybe weeks, or sometimes they never came back. But those were rare cases. So to avoid the Snatchers, some witch (Harry wasn't sure who, most likely a blood-traitor) created portkeys that took wizards to the Night Duels. The one Harry would grab was a spoon, it was only a few feet from his quarters.

Finally, Harry reached it and waited for it to glow. Sure enough, a few seconds later the spoon lit up and Harry quickly held onto it.

He spun for what felt like an eternity before landing firmly on the ground. The Night Duel seemed to be teeming with duelers tonight as Harry scanned the area. The room wasn't big on the outside, but once you'd step into it, it could easily fit around a hundred wizards. Harry walked over to the registration desk to enter his name into the draw.

"Name?" drawled a blond witch.

"Harry Potter, number 54," He replied. Harry had been stuck with this number since the day he joined.

The witch looked up and down her sheet, searching fro his number and his competitor's number. She lifted her quill when she found it.

"Okay, Mr. Potter. You are dueling number 106. Good luck," she said, scratching something next to his number.

Harry thanked her and went to sit at the waiting tables. When his number was called and the opposing number was called, they were to make their way onto the long stage and start. As Harry waited, he often thought of his wand skills and his chances of winning. Harry considered himself a decent challenger, not too hard, not too easy. It was his opponent whom he was always cautious about. A few minutes later he heard his number and walked towards the stage. He inhaled deeply, walked up the steps and waited for his opponent. Soon another wizard, blond and fit, filled the vacant space and nodded curtly at him.

"Wands at the ready!" shouted a husky voice somewhere offstage. Harry pointed his wand upward as did the other wizard.

"3, 2, 1. GO!"

With a flash of light the battle had begun. The opposing wizard hurled a Confringo Curse his direction, to which Harry blocked straightaway.

"Stupefy!" yelled Harry, but the wizard was too quick, he ducked at the spell.

The wizard advanced on Harry, "Impedimenta!"

Harry was knocked back harshly against a wall and his glasses fell off, obscuring his vision.

"Accio glasses," he muttered hastily. His glasses zoomed on his face, cracks still blurred his view. With great difficulty Harry could see his opponent coming towards him with his wand erect.

"Protego!" Harry said instinctively. The back of his head started to throb in response to the hard impact of the wall. More blood was oozing out of his face.

The wizard only backtracked slightly, wanting to keep a safe distance from Harry. Before Harry knew it he was once again slammed into the wall, creating cuts and bruises into his flesh. Harry had quite enough of it.

He grabbed his wand tightly and pointed it at the wizard, and then lowered his aim to his opponent's feet. "Expulso!" he yelled.

The stage from under the wizard's feet exploded, sending him flying the opposite direction. He crashed into the nearby tables and landed on other wizards, creating a huge commotion. Harry ran over to see how much damage was done. From what Harry could see, the boy's face was cut and scraped and a thick trickle of blood came running down his nose. A look of pity crossed Harry's face for a fleeting moment before disappearing. He remembered that this is what they sign up for; he knew that something like this is to be expected.

"Expelliamus," Harry said softly. The opponents wand smoothly flew out of the wizard's hand and Harry caught it.

A bell had dinged in the corner of the platform, signaling the end of the match. Harry sighed in relief, and helped his opponent up. The boy wiped his face with his torn robes.

"Thanks, not bad spellwork," he commented. Harry gave a small laugh.

"That was nothing compared to yours," Harry said. The boy smiled. "What are you?"

"Blood-traitor," answered the boy, the slightest hint of pride played in his voice, "and yourself?"

"Half-blood. The name's Harry Potter," Harry held out his hand for the wizard to shake.

He accepted the gesture, giving a firm shake, "Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Ernie Macmillan."

"Pleasure, Ernie." Harry smiled.

"Well, I'd go claim your money before someone like me takes it," Ernie said with a wink. Harry laughed lightly.

"See ya, around." Harry waved goodbye to the blond wizard and trudged over, exhausted, to the winner's table. Another witch there gave him his earnings, and it looked like some wizards bet high on his match. He decided that he'd count it later, right now all he wanted was to sleep.

Harry waited a good few minutes before the next portkey was ready to be used. Along with other wizards and witches, some with triumphant smiles on their faces and others with mild to severe looking wounds, Harry grabbed the portkey home. It wasn't long before he was at his destination. Harry summoned the block, and with great difficulty, levitated himself up to the window and climbed in.

Tired beyond imaginable, he dragged himself over to his bed and started to fall asleep, not even bothering to change his clothes.

"Harry?" a tiny voice whispered from the bed next to him. It was Teddy.

"Hmm?" Harry responded.

"Did you win?" the boy asked timidly yet eagerly.

"Yes, Teddy. Now go to bed."

Teddy grinned with pride has he pulled the rest of his blankets on top of his small body.

"I knew you would," he whispered, more to himself than to Harry. But Harry wouldn't have been able to hear him anyways, his mind off somewhere in the distance, dreaming.

So, I really hoped you liked that one! and I'm REALLY sorry about all the spelling and grammar mistakes. Hopefully there is none in this one! One last thing, I can sense that I'm going to run out of characters(mostly because I'm not sure what blood class they are from) and I'm terrible at creating OCs, so if any of you want to send me one, I'll fit them into my story! Thanks again for your reviews and follows. Keep them up!

-hsdc