A/N: Sorry for the long wait, everyone! All I can say is that I promise I won't drop this story, and I'll do my best to update semi-regularly, even if slowly. I know where the story is going (I even have a sequel roughly planned out) - it's just going to take a little while to get there. With that said, here's the next chapter, which features Sarutobi's detention. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or Harry Potter

Chapter 6: Capture the Flag

The atmosphere in Sarutobi's office was tense and filled with ill-will. Harry and Ron stood side-by-side, as far away as they could get from Malfoy and Flint without appearing to be intimidated by the two Slytherins. It was time for their detention, but Professor Sarutobi hadn't appeared yet. Ron, Malfoy, and Harry had sent a few muttered comments at each other, but no one wanted to be the first to anger Professor Sarutobi further. And even though he wasn't immediately visible, none of them doubted that he would immediately appear in a puff of smoke, should any of them start making trouble.

However, Marcus Flint looked like trouble was the only thing he wanted to make. The tall, muscular seventh year was glowering at all of them, even Malfoy. Apparently serving a detention with second years wasn't something that he enjoyed. But then, Harry wasn't exactly thrilled, either. Flint looked like the troll that he, Hermione, and Ron had fought last year, only smarter and potentially meaner.

Harry had to remind himself that they had beaten the troll, and even worse than that, too. Not even Flint, with his big, crooked teeth and his thick forehead, could hold a candle to the amount of fear that Quirrell had generated. Still, Quirrell wasn't here while Flint was, and the huge Slytherin looked about ready to start breaking some skulls.

To avoid looking at Flint, Harry sent his gaze around the room, taking in the interior of Professor Sarutobi's office. He'd never actually been inside it before, and it proved to be fascinating.

The biggest piece of furniture in the room was the heavy desk near the back wall – it was piled high with papers and implements for writing. To the right of the desk, pushed up against the far wall in a corner, was an over-sized trunk, made of gleaming mahogany and bolted tight with four different locks. On the wall above, there was a heavily embroidered square of fabric, almost like a flag. It featured a simple design that looked like a leaf. Shelves went from the floor about halfway to the ceiling on the side walls, and held an assortment of strange and fantastic implements. There were heavy scrolls piled haphazardly, and weapons of all sizes and descriptions. Harry had gotten the impression from Defense class that the Professor was no stranger to magical warfare, but he was surprised to see apparently non-magical weapons displayed so prominently.

Above the bookcases were numerous pictures of faces that were unfamiliar to Harry. There was a small boy with a blue scarf, and next to him a strong, gruff-looking man with black hair and a cigarette sticking out of the corner of his mouth. Another picture showed a tall man with blindingly yellow hair, who watched three younger children, two boys and a girl, with a tolerant smile on his face. There were more, but Harry stopped looking when he realized something odd.

"Ron," he whispered, and nudged his friend with his elbow when he saw that Ron wasn't listening. His friend was still sneaking glances over to where Malfoy was standing, each time his face getting redder and redder. It looked like Malfoy was mumbling things under his breath, no doubt trying to provoke Ron.

"Hey!" Ron exclaimed, affronted, after Harry's elbow landed in his stomach. "Blimey, that hurt!"

Harry snorted. "Sorry, mate," he said unapologetically. "But look at the pictures for a sec. They don't move!"

"You can't just go around hitting your best fr- wait, what?"

Harry shook his head impatiently. He pointed to the pictures. "See? None of them move."

"You're right. I dunno… maybe he's Muggleborn?"

There was a loud, derisive snort from Malfoy. Harry turned around, incensed. He wasn't about to let Malfoy start his Mudblood rant again, even if Flint was there to back him up.

"Listen, Malfoy-" he snarled, but once again a budding conflict was interrupted by a white puff of smoke. Professor Sarutobi appeared, looking amused. He looked over the four students, his expression guarded. He sighed, as if at a loss.

"Honestly, for a while I wasn't even sure where to begin with you four. But you all show such a profound lack of tactical awareness, even of common sense, that failing to address it would be a gross dereliction of my duty."

All four of them blushed, even Flint, although he followed with a glare that looked like he wanted to tear the Professor apart. Sarutobi eyed him for a second, a small smile on his face. "What, Mr. Flint? Do you disagree?"

Flint could only hold the Professor's gaze for a second, and then looked down at the floor in defeat. "No, Professor."

The Professor clapped his hands together, a sharp sound that made Harry start violently. "Well then! We'll use these two hours to work on tactics and teamwork. But first," he broke off, and peered at Ron owlishly. "Mr. Weasly, do you still have that travesty of a wand?"

Once again, Ron's blush spread all the way to the roots of his hair. "Yes, sir." He took out his Spellotaped wand and showed it to the Professor, while Malfoy and Flint sniggered in the background.

Professor Sarutobi frowned. "That certainly won't do. It's worse than going around with a faulty exploding tag in your pack. Here, take this."

And just like that, he tossed a wand through the air towards Ron, who almost fumbled the catch. His expression was stunned, disbelieving. Harry felt the way Ron looked, and was still trying to figure out where the wand had come from. He hadn't even seen the Professor's hand move, it had been that fast. The Professor explained, heedless of the Gryffindors' consternation.

"I have a few spare wands, in case any… accidents… befall students in my class. It's best to be prepared. Don't look at me that way, Mr. Weasley, it's not charity. A wand is necessary for self-defense, and I will not have my students unprotected. Return it at the end of the school year, or whenever you manage to get to Ollivander's and buy a replacement. All right?"

Ron nodded, his eyes still fixed on the wand, as if a magnetic force kept him in thrall. He waved the wand carefully, and a shower of sparks shot out. That acted as a reminder, and he looked up at Professor Sarutobi with round eyes.

"Thank you so much, Professor!"

Sarutobi's eyes twinkled, and for a second Harry was strongly reminded of Dumbledore. "Not at all, Mr. Weasley," the Professor said. "As I told you, no student of Hogwarts will ever be without the means to protect themselves. Now, I think we had better begin tonight's lesson before we lose any more time."

"What is tonight's lesson?" Flint asked aggressively, and then added a belated, "… Professor."

Sarutobi adjusted his huge white hat, and smiled at them beatifically. "You will soon find out. Follow me, please, gentlemen."

He walked over to the trunk that Harry had seen in the corner of the office, and his hands flashed in a series of strange signs. All four locks clicked open, leaving the students gaping. Wandless magic was something they knew existed, but to see it done so casually was stunning.

The Professor gestured at them, and waited expectantly. Harry spoke first, not understanding. "Professor?"

"Come on, then," Sarutobi urged. "Get in the trunk."

What?

But curiosity overcame confusion, and the four students came forward hesitantly to peer in the trunk. There they saw a flight of stairs, which descended and opened up into a room that was blocked from their view by the back interior wall of the trunk. The staircase itself was much too large to be contained in the trunk, and that was disregarding the room that lay at the bottom. Harry looked at the Professor, amazed.

"One of the many wonders of Diagon Alley," the Professor said with a smile. "It cost me quite a bit, but you never know when something like this will come in handy. Now, if you would proceed in an orderly fashion down the stairs, we can begin."

Flint went first, pushing aside the second-years with his broad shoulders. Malfoy went second, a fact which annoyed Ron but Harry welcomed. He'd rather not have Malfoy behind him while walking into an unknown location.

To his surprise, Harry saw Professor Sarutobi watching him closely. A knowing look came over the Professor's face. "Well done, Harry. I hope it didn't escape your notice that if you desired, you could close the lid and shut them down there for a very long time. Never leave your enemy behind you."

There was a terrified squawk from further down the stairs, and Harry's jaw dropped. The Professor had known exactly what he'd been thinking.

"Don't worry, Mr. Malfoy," the Professor called down. "I'm not going to shut you in there. But I will take one point from Slytherin, because the two of you tried to engage in an adolescent game of supremacy when you should have been maneuvering for position. Going first only means that you present a better target for whoever's second – remember that."

Sarutobi gestured at Harry and Ron to follow the two Slytherins into the trunk. They did so, although Harry kept looking back up, half believing that the Professor was about to shut them in there. Guessing the direction of his thoughts, Sarutobi chuckled. Then he came down the stairs as well, leaving the lid of the trunk open above them.

At the bottom step, the stairs opened up into a room larger than any Harry had ever seen, with the exception of the Great Hall. It was a wide, open space, with torches affixed to brackets and evenly spaced along the wall. There was also light coming from above, and when Harry looked up he saw bright, luminescent balls of white light hovering high in the air.

On the far wall were racks and racks of weapons of all shapes and sizes. Harry recognized swords and spears, but others were less familiar. Why, for instance, would anyone want a giant sickle-shaped blade attached to the end of a chain? Next to the weapons was a long row of dummies, stuffed with straw and attached to a metal brace that kept them upright. Each dummy had a bulls-eye painted on their chest, and a smaller one on their head. To Harry's dismay, he saw that at least one of the dummies had knives sticking out from the center of the targets.

"I call this Training Ground One," Sarutobi announced, sweeping one arm out to indicate the room. "Not nearly adequate, but it will serve for now. Now, gather round, and I'll outline the rules for tonight's lesson."

The students formed a loose semi-circle around the Professor. He took a few puffs of his pipe, and then began to speak.

"In my village, our youth train for magical combat by pitting themselves against each other in tests of strength and skill. That is what I am going to have you do tonight."

A huge grin stretched across Flint's face. Harry and Ron exchanged worried looks.

"This is an exercise in teamwork. There will be two teams of two, and you must work together to achieve your objective."

"What's the objective?" Flint asked, his anticipation growing.

Sarutobi looked down his nose at the seventh-year. "Mr. Flint, I regret to say that I do not have time to impress upon you the value of patience. However, please trust me when I tell you that it is a virtue to be cultivated."

Flint looked confused, as if he was still processing the sentence. Harry had to put his hand over his mouth to keep from sniggering.

"Now," Sarutobi continued, "if you will direct your attention to the center of the dojo, you will see the boundary of this contest."

Sure enough, there was a thick white line that extended around the entire floor, only a few yards away from the walls. Sarutobi said something that Harry couldn't quite make out, and then something amazing happened.

First there was a rumbling beneath their feet, and the ground began to shake. Then, within the boundary line, huge spikes of rock exploded from below, like giant teeth in an open maw. From their vantage point across from the middle of the field, the students could see that the spikes covered the entire floor, with the exception of two circular areas on either side. Inside those areas were flags, one in each circle, each a different color.

Sarutobi pointed at each flag. "Those are your objectives. Each team will attempt to bring the other team's flag inside their circle, without losing their own flag. The only rules are that deadly force is not allowed, and that you must stay inside the boundary line. Understood?"

There was a chorus of, "Yes, Professor!"

Then Ron turned to Harry, and hefted his new wand with a sense of purpose. "Right, mate," he grinned, "let's show these two what it means to be a Gryffindor!"

Sarutobi coughed. "Forgive me, I wasn't clear. The teams will be Mr. Weasley and Mr. Flint against Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter."

Ron's face fell, and he muttered a curse under his breath. "But Professor," Malfoy protested, "that's unfair! Potter is useless!"

"Watch it, Malfoy!" Harry spat.

Professor Sarutobi was unmoved. "I will not change the teams. This isn't an opportunity for the four of you to play out silly rivalries. When you encounter Dark magic, are you going to whine about who is fighting with you? Or are you going to do your best to fight together, and survive?"

Malfoy seethed, still staring angrily at Harry. "There's only one right answer, Mr. Malfoy," Sarutobi said patiently. "Which is that you can't always choose your allies, but you had better be able to use them to their fullest potential. Hence this exercise. Now, both teams go to your flags, and I will start the contest."

Harry waved sadly at Ron, who turned and followed Flint to the left side of the jagged, rock-strewn course. Then he turned away, and marched stiffly with Malfoy to the second flag.

"Listen, Potter," Malfoy hissed, the hatred accentuating his sharp features, "if you screw this up I'll kill you. Got it?"

"Same to you, Malfoy," Harry shot back. "It's too bad you can't get your Daddy down here. Maybe he could pay Professor Sarutobi to let you win."

For a second Harry thought that Draco was going to pull his wand on him, but the heir of the House of Malfoy controlled himself with an effort. "Just pay attention, Potter," he snarled. "Flint knows the Stunning spell, Stupefy. It's his best spell, and since it doesn't kill, Professor Sarutobi won't stop him. One hit and we're done. So don't get hit."

Harry nodded slowly, surprised that Draco would share the information. Apparently the desire to win was strong enough to forge a little cooperation, no matter how grudging.

"We can use the spikes," he said, pointing at the rocky spears jutting up almost to the ceiling. They obscured the other half of the field from sight. "A straight spell will deflect off them, so if we stay close we can use them for cover."

Draco looked at the spikes, and back at the flag. "We have to protect our flag, though. We can't see more than a few feet because of these spikes, so how will we know if they're making a move on the flag?"

Harry nodded, the problem clear to him as well. "Right. If we go for the flag, we might not see them approaching ours. Then it's just hide-and-seek until Flint stuns us. But if one of us stays behind to guard it-"

Draco finished the sentence for him. "Then if they stay together, they'll have an advantage, whether they protect the flag or try and steal ours. And we won't be able to see them until they're right on top of us, thanks to those damn spikes."

The flag, which was as red as Ron's hair, seemed to laugh at them both. Harry weighed the options, and came to a decision. "So we guard our flag," he said at last. "We pick spots where we can see each other, and wait for them to try for our flag. That way we're guaranteed not to get outnumbered."

"Obviously, Potter," Draco drawled. "But do you even have any hex that will work?"

"Stow it, Malfoy. Of course I do." Harry was planning on using Petrificus totalis, the curse that Hermione had used on Neville when they went to find the Sorcerer's Stone at the end of last year. It would immobilize their opponents if it landed, giving him and Draco enough time to get the flag at the other end of the field.

Suddenly, Professor Sarutobi's voice echoed throughout the room, magically amplified. "It seems that both teams are ready. Begin!"

Harry tensed, and stared out into the sea of giant spikes. "Let's go. Do you want to watch out for them, or the flag?"

"I'll watch the flag," Draco said.

"All right," Harry agreed. "Let's go right, and stay close to the boundary."

The two second-years made their way into the maze of rock, staying near the white line of the boundary on the right side. They decided on a likely spike, large enough around that it provided good cover, and near enough to the flag that Draco could keep an eye on it.

Harry set himself to peering out across the field, watching for any sign of movement. It was like he was Seeking, but instead of a Golden snitch he was waiting for Ron or Flint. For a handful of minutes that seemed to stretch on infinitely, there was nothing. Then…

"Hold on," Draco muttered. "What the…"

"What is it?" Harry whispered.

Draco pointed at the flag. "That!"

Harry looked, and saw to his dismay that the flag was rising, slowly but surely, off of the ground. Comprehension dawned when Harry remembered a club rising into the air, only to fall onto a troll's head.

"It's Ron," he hissed. "He's using Wingardium Leviosa!"

"Well, stop him!" Draco snapped. "I'll go for their flag, around this side."

He was off before Harry had a chance to stop him, and he couldn't call out for fear of giving away his position. The flag continued to dance overhead, moving farther and farther away from its starting point. Harry quickly scanned to see where the flag was heading, and tried to figure out where Ron might be hiding. After a second, he picked the spike that he thought was most likely.

He crept in that direction, slipping from spike to spike. Soon, a shock of red hair came into view, and then Harry saw Ron's wand flicking about, directing the flag closer with small motions. Harry maneuvered until he had a clear shot, then raised his wand to immobilize Ron. He breathed a silent apology, then started the incantation. "Petrificus Tot-"

But Harry saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye, and broke off his own spell in order to roll to the side. A jet of red light slammed into the spike behind him, gouging out a small piece of rock. Harry scrambled to get behind the spike, only just avoiding a second beam of light.

"Stupefy!" Harry heard Flint's voice yell out the spell again and again, hemming him in on both sides. He couldn't even poke his head out for fear that one of Flint's stunners would hit him.

"I've got it!" Ron's voice called out.

"Then go!" Flint yelled. "I'll hold him here."

Harry realized that if he didn't do something now, he was going to lose. There was no time to think, so he acted. He sent a Leg-Locker curse off to the left. He didn't even try to aim, since the important thing was the distraction that the spell afforded. Flint reacted like a cat sensing a mouse, and sent a Stunning spell in the direction of Harry's curse. Harry wasted no time, stepping to the right of the spike and sending a Body-bind curse straight at the seventh-year Slytherin.

Flint was standing right out in the open, and the green light caught him in the chest. He fell to the rocky ground, motionless and rigid. Harry sprinted off after Ron, but from the flash of red that he saw weaving in and out of the rocks ahead, he knew it was hopeless.

Just as Harry heard Ron's whoop of triumph, he saw Draco appear from behind another spike on his right.

"Did you get their flag?" Harry asked, panting.

"No," said Draco, confusion etched on his face. "It wasn't there."

"What? It must have been…" Harry trailed off, thinking. Then he groaned, and put his face in his hands. "Stupid, stupid, stupid! We didn't have to leave the flag where it was – we could have taken it with us!"

Draco only stared at him, an expression of horror growing. "No!"

"Yes!" came Professor Sarutobi's amplified voice. Then the ground shook, and a rumbling like thunder arose, and the giant spikes slid back into the earth. Harry saw Ron dancing around in his team's circle, holding aloft both flags and shouting with joy. He looked over his shoulder, where Flint was still quivering on the ground, unable to move.

Harry shrugged. Sometimes you had to appreciate the small victories.

Professor Sarutobi walked over to Harry and Malfoy, pausing to break the curse of Flint. The seventh-year stood up, looking murderous, and started toward Harry. In spite of himself, he took a step back. But Sarutobi put a hand on the older boy's shoulder, stopping Flint as surely as if he'd run into a wall.

"If you're quite finished with celebrating, Mr. Weasley," he called out to Ron, who was still capering about like a madman. Ron froze, and then turned around, looking a little sheepish.

"Sorry, Professor."

He walked over to join the group, looking more than a little smug. Harry grinned at Ron, happy in spite of himself. He had managed to take down Flint, and Ron had gotten the glory of a win. Not a bad detention.

"Not bad for a first try," Professor Sarutobi said judiciously. "You all did well, though there were some things you could improve on. Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, you did well to determine that a defensive stance was the strongest position. However, you failed to anticipate any of the more sophisticated ways to steal the flag. Moreover, you didn't realize that there was no rule saying that your flag had to stay within the circle. Mr. Weasley figured that out, and it opened up new tactical opportunities for his team. Well done, Mr. Weasley."

Ron was thoroughly pink at this point, with a heady mixture of embarrassment and pride.

"Mr. Flint," Sarutobi continued, turning to Marcus, "you performed admirably in protecting your teammate. I see you are unhappy about being incapacitated, but reflect that your sacrifice was what allowed your teammate to complete his objective. It is the ones who fall while protecting others who are most worthy of praise. However, your defeat was certainly avoidable. If you had made better use of the available cover, instead of advancing into the open once you thought you had the advantage, you would have been able to avoid Mr. Potter's curse."

"And finally, Mr. Malfoy," Sarutobi said, looking at the blond Slytherin. "Your instinct to go straight to the other flag was correct. But when you didn't find it there, you left to rejoin Mr. Potter. Next time, consider placing an ambush. Mr. Weasley let down his guard considerably when he neared his circle – in fact, I believe I saw him skipping at the end. A well-placed curse could have turned the game around."

It was hard to say who looked more chastened, Draco or Ron.

"In any event," Sarutobi said, "you have all shown some potential tonight, and I am satisfied. There is still half an hour left in your detention, but I think there is no harm done in sending you off early. I'll see you gentlemen in class."

He bowed politely, and motioned for them to leave first. Flint led the way, almost running, probably extremely glad to leave the place where he'd been immobilized by a second-year. Draco followed, but his face wore a more thoughtful expression. Harry walked with Ron, smiling and laughing as Ron gloated about his victory.

"Flint wanted to just charge ahead, but I convinced him to wait. 'It's just like chess,' I told him, and it worked! But I never…" his chatter brought them up the stairs, and by the time they were in the Professor's office once again, Harry was only half-listening.

Draco and Marcus Flint were already gone, having left immediately once exiting the trunk.

Harry and Ron were moving toward the door as well, when Harry heard the voice. It was cold and dark, and the sound of it sent shivers down Harry's spine.

"Blood," it said, and Harry jumped. "Give me blooood… Deliciousss blood…"

Harry looked around wildly. "Did you hear that?" he demanded.

Ron looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Hear what? Have you gone bonkers, Harry?"

"No!" Harry said. "I just… I thought I heard something."

"It's in your mind, Harry," Ron assured him. "Nobody said anything."

Harry calmed down slowly, getting his pulse under control. He could have sworn he'd heard the voice, it had been as clear as day! And yet as blood-chilling as the worst nightmare he could imagine.

Then Professor Sarutobi appeared from out of the trunk, closing it behind him with a wave of his hand. He smiled kindly at the two boys, and paused when he saw Harry.

"You look pale, Mr. Potter. Are you ill?"

"What? …Uh, no, Professor. I'm fine."

"Well then," Professor Sarutobi said. "I look forward to our next class, and I hope that you won't wait for your next detention to practice what I've taught you!" He winked at them.

Harry nodded, feeling a little dazed, and followed Ron out into the hallway. "You sure you're all right, mate?" Ron asked, looking a little worried. "Maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey if you're hearing voices. I don't want you going barmy like my great-uncle Bilius!"

"No, I'm fine," Harry said, casting around for a way to change the subject. Then it came to him, and actually managed to put thoughts of disembodied voices out of his head.

He turned to Ron, his face lighting with excitement. "Hey, I think I've got an idea!"

"What's that?" Ron looked confused.

Harry gestured back at the door to Sarutobi's office. "Professor Sarutobi said to practice, right? I bet he meant it, too. We won't get better at any of this stuff if we don't work at it outside of class. I think we should try and get him to teach us – about tactics and all that stuff. What do you think?"

Ron caught on in a flash. "Blimey, that's brilliant, Harry! If we can get him to train us, we'll be the best spellcasters in Hogwarts! What I wouldn't give to challenge Fred and George to a duel, and clean the floor with them! Let's do it."

"We should tell Hermione," Harry said. "We'll do it together."

"I don't know," Ron hesitated. "Do you think she'll want to learn how to fight?"

"Well, it's only common sense to be better prepared," Harry said. "In case we run into another Quirrell."

Ron's eyes hardened as he remembered the trials they'd faced while retrieving the Sorcerer's Stone.

"And if she needs convincing," Harry added, "we'll just tell her it'll be good practice for our Defense Against the Dark Arts final exam."

Ron punched the air with his fist. "That's it! The day Hermione turns down an opportunity to study will be the day Draco goes to all his classes in polka-dot briefs."

The two friends went back to the Gryffindor dorm, talking excitedly about their plan. But late that night, as Harry tried to fall asleep, he kept remembering the voice from Sarutobi's office. It echoed in his mind, and the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was its cold, hissing tone, searching for blood.