Something felt wet against his left knee but he didn't dare open his eyes. The air around his nose was pungent, like urine and a raw taste clung to his tongue. There was a distant squeaking coming from somewhere to his left. Harry thought it might have been a mouse but there was a large possibility that it was a person getting tortured. The light penetrating his eyelids was weak so he guessed he was somewhere secluded.

After a while, when the squeaks stopped, he forced himself to open his eyes and found that he was, after all, somewhere dark and hidden. There was a lamp that cast dim light on a desk, on the things on it. Parchment, quills, inkbottles. What looked like the head of a Hippogriff. Harry had to look closer to make sure it wasn't Buckbeak's. There was also a newspaper and a few strands of hair .

Harry looked down and saw that he was unbound. He slowly got to his feet, his burning shoulder making him

groan. He stretched his stiff limbs and then leaned against the wall, reliving the moments that had occurred before he passed out.

Seamus, their fellow Gryfinndor whom they'd know for six years, had... Harry couldn't even find the right words to describe what he done. How could this have happened? Harry remembered how his eyes had been full of hatred, how he had cursed him, Ron and Hermione without any hesitation or sign of sympathy. How he had summoned all those ominous-sounding creatures and how he had teamed up with the Hevera. It sounded all wrong in Harry's head that he actually pinched himself in the stomach to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

The smell of urine was now growing stronger and Harry found out that the gory wound below the Hippogriff's neck was the source. Harry wrinkled up his nose and worried about Ron and Hermione. Were they still alive? Seamus could have easily killed them; he didn't want them, he wanted Harry. We've captured Potter, had been Seamus's triumphant words. Harry looked around, searching for Ron and Hermione's bodies, but the room was too small anyway to hold three people.

Suddenly, footsteps came from his left, where the squealing had come from earlier. Harry instictively felt for his wand in his knee-deep jean pockets but it wasn't there. There was only what felt like a curled piece of wet meat. Before Harry had time to question what meat was doing in his pocket, the door, which all this time had seemed like a part of dark wall, banged open and Seamus stood on the threshold, smiling wickedly.

"Well, well?" he said, his eyes slits. "If it isn't my good friend Harry Potter. You sleep alright?"

Behind him was blinding white light. Harry forced himself not to leap at his throat. Which would have been unwise because Seamus, unlike him, had a wand.

"Why are you doing this?" Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Me?" Seamus said lazily. " Let's just say I have my reasons. Now, come with me."

"Where are Ron and Hermione?"

Seamus smirked in an almost Malfoyish way. "Safely out of the way."

Harry lunged at Seamus, but Seamus flicked his wand casually, making Harry freeze in midair. Curse words flew from Harry's mouth and his heart felt defeated, wrenched out of its place. No, he thought. It couldn't be.

Seamus unfroze Harry, grabbed him by the arm, wand pointed at neck, and led him out onto a dark corridor, along it and through mighty double doors. Harry's eyes stung with anger and he felt dizzied with grief. His body felt useless, felt like it couldn't do anything except be dragged to wherever Seamus was taking him.

Ron and Hermione's faces swam and swam before him, so that for a while he couldn't see where he was being taken to but it turned out to be a Quidditch pitch. Not the Hogwarts one, though. The rows in the stands were occupied by thousands of ugly magical creatures. Their deafening roars rose into the dark sky.

Harry was lead into the middle of the pitch and was roughly inspected by a sinister-looking, ostrichlike monster. The monster dug into his left pocket and pulled out an ear. Ron's ear. Harry recognised the fleshy earlobe dotted with freckles.

The ostrich then jammed a wand into his hand and said, in a cruel voice, "Prepare to duel, bitch."