Scala ad Caelum

by GRND

Ages ago, a wizard known as Herpo the Foul defied Death and doomed the world and those who were yet to be born. His ambition was put to an end, yet briefly, for the events of the past are bound to happen again as the ages come and go. It is in the present age, as Voldemort's reign of terror is deemed as over, that the Wizarding World would understand the story had yet to finish.

21. Duelling Club

Chapter 20 is out! The longest one so far, but I was feeling rather inspired these past days!

---

Scala ad Caelum

Chapter 20: Duelling Club

Ronald Weasley POV

Saturday 22nd November, 1992 (Hogwarts) – Middle of the morning

"Remember to breathe calmly and not to stress too much about the lack of results," Gerd advised, not faced in the slightest by the redhead's annoyed looks.

"That is what I am trying," Ron grunted back.

They were practising in order to get a more refined control of his magic; but just as the many other days, there were no results; and that was something which was starting to piss the hell out of him. "Wrong!" Gerd huffed, for the tenth time that morning. "You aren't relaxed at all! You need to stop thinking about how angry you are and focus on the task!"

"I bloody know!" The boy snapped. "Why don't you just shut-" before finishing the sentence, the redhead thought twice about saying something he was going to regret; that was the reason why Ron got up from the ground and walked towards the nearest tree.

"What are you doing?"

The answer came in the form of a headbutt to the tree.

"Have you gone mad?" The Essentia gasped, as she flew towards him. "Let me see your forehead."

"I'm fine," Ron answered, even though he was failing to contain the tears. "Ah, I needed that to chill myself a bit. Don't look at me like I'm a weirdo here; this was something my brother Charlie used to do when he was very frustrated. When we were little, he told the twins and me to do it every time we were going to say anything out of anger."

"Ehm, I get what you are trying to say, but isn't that..., a bit too extreme?"

"That is the point of it," Ron shrugged it off. "If it didn't hurt like hell, it wouldn't make any sense at all."

"Okay..."

The redhead looked up to the clear sky; thanks to his forehead palpitating with pain, he wasn't feeling as angered as a few moments ago; Charlie Weasley truly was a genius in his own way. "Well, sorry for that," he ended up saying. "I know I've had a short temper these past weeks-"

"More than usual you mean, right?"

"Gerd..."

"Sorry, I had to point it out."

"I deserve that, I guess," Ron sighed. "But, as I was saying, it is a bit hard to be on constant vigilance, doing nothing and knowing there is some mad bastard out there attacking people; on top of that, there is no way for me to get better at feeling or controlling my own magic."

"Woah, the headbutt technique really works," Gerd said, sounding really surprised. "I think we should stop for today; there is no point in keep going at it when you are so frustrated with life. Just go back to the castle and take a shower; trust me, you really need it. Ah, and try to make peace with your friend; that is also making your focus way more horrible than usual."

"I don't need to fix anything!" Ron defended himself. "It is Blaise the one avoiding us; I hate how easy it was for him to tell me he didn't care at all about the Chamber and the Heir, but he's always been a good bloke with me; an asshole, but a decent guy with some people."

"Whatever you say, but listen to me for once."

"I always do it! I swear you just nagged me for the sake of it..."

The walk back to the castle was a long one, but the cold air of November did wonders to cool him off; even if his mother always told them to not be under cold air for a long time after sweating. It had been a very rainy month, and thanks to that, the forest and the school's terrains looked as green as ever.

In fact, the redhead was so immersed in the view that he almost bumped into a little student. "Hello, Ronald!" A first year girl greeted him. "Why are you sweating? Are you being persecuted by some Heliopaths? Yeah, that must be it; their body's heat often makes people around them sweat a lot."

Among all the students of the school, he had the bad luck to bump into Luna Lovegood.

"Oh, Luna..., hello to you too," he tried to smile at her as best as he could. It had really been a long time since he last spoke to the dreamy girl, but it seemed she was as insane as ever. "Ehm, no? I don't think I've been persecuted by..., those creatures; I was just doing some exercise."

"Oh, that is nice, but are you sure there aren't Heliopaths around? I'd love to see them..."

From what the redhead knew, many students from all the Houses had started to call the girl Loony Lovegood, even though she didn't seem to care much about it. Luna had always been good friends with Ginny, especially since her mother died in a tragic accident, despite that, the girl always managed to freak him out with her different insanities; like the one time when she stated in front of all the Weasleys that Rufus Scrimgeour, a very famous Auror, was a vampire in disguise.

It was true she probably was mad-not in a bad way, of course, but still mad-and it was totally understandable given her circumstances.

That was the only reason why Ron tried to be as kind as he could with her every time she managed to catch him before the boy could run away from her. "Ehm, I think they are quite good at hiding; that probably is why you haven't seen them..." it was the best answer he could come up with.

"Oh, really? That's what I said to my father, but he keeps believing they are quite the pranksters; oh, now that I think about it, maybe George and Fred have seen them, since they like pranks so much."

"That is a good idea, why don't you go and ask them about it?" Ron told her. "Ehm, I'm sorry but I need to go now, Luna; a hot shower is waiting for me."

The redhead tried to walk a bit faster than usual, but the blonde girl's voice stopped him before he could turn the corner. "Have you talked with Ginny recently?" She asked, her voice not sounding so dreamy anymore. "I think she's changed."

"What?" Ron turned back, and for the first time in his life, the boy observed a serious Luna Lovegood. "What do you mean by that?"

"I think she could have befriended some Dabberblimp," the girl muttered, as if she was thinking very hard about something.

"Okay... and what could have that Dabber..., blimp done to her?" Ron asked, trying to translate Luna's language into English.

"They are quite mischievous creatures," she explained. "But when they like a person, they attach to them, and they love to say nice things to those who they like. I think that is the reason why she is way more confident about herself..."

Even if he didn't see his sister around so much these past weeks, that was something he had also observed. Days before the school started, Ginny had been very nervous about everything, but as the weeks passed, Percy told him about how well she was doing in classes and how many friends she had.

Ginny had always been very social and talkative, so Ron didn't give much thought to it; but still, there was something out of place, and that was the sudden confidence his sister had. "I think I'll talk about it with her someday," Ron ended up saying. Thanks for letting me know, Luna. I'll see you around, I guess."

"That would be nice," she beamed. "Don't forget to tell me if you ever see a Helliopath! I need to take a photo of them for my album of creatures!"

I'll try to check on Ginny as soon as I have some free time; but now, I need to check on the potion. According to Hermione, everything was going as planned, but either if it wasn't, there was no way for him to know; the bushy-haired girl had assumed total control of the brewing, and the rest of them, including the new member of the group, Tracey, acted as Hermione said; but even that was understandable, after all, only she could brew such a complex potion.

When he made it to the bathroom, there were only two voices coming out from the cabin. "I liked school, but it was a bit boring since I already knew about magic," Tracey commented. "And it was also a bit sad since I knew I wasn't going to see my friends ever again."

"Oh, I didn't know you attended a muggle school" Hermione said. "For me it wasn't so good, to be honest; but when Professor McGonagall appeared in my house to tell me and my parents that I was a witch... it was the best thing that has ever happened to me..."

"Yeah, I can't really imagine what went through your head that moment... For me, it had always been very easy; I was there because my parents thought it was going to be the best for me, so I started school when I was five. There are some times when I miss my muggle friends a lot, but our worlds aren't compatible, so this is the one and only way."

"I... never had many friends," Hermione admitted. "I was kind of..., maybe a bit insufferable, I guess?"

"Eh, you shouldn't say that."

"But it is true, and it took me a long time to realize it. Actually, it was Ron, Harry and Neville the ones to help me acknowledge that..."

"How's so?"

"Well, back in the first year, at one of the first classes of Charms, I was paired with Seamus Finnegan, and he couldn't do the spell we were practising, so I..., tried to help him; not in the best way, if you know what I mean."

"I can imagine," the Slytherin girl grimaced.

"Well, after he set ablaze his feather, he challenged me to do it, and I did it; so, he snapped at me and called me an insufferable know-it-all..."

"That is horrible," Tracey interrupted her.

"Well, yeah, it was," Hermione agreed. "But I now understand that the only thing I did when I tried to help was to rub on his face the fact he couldn't do it and I could... His response was way worse, of course, but..., that helped me to understand how to talk with others without making them feel as if I was lecturing them. I still have some problems thanks to my short temper-especially with Harry and Ron since they also are quite similar-but I'm very happy with how things are right now."

"That is nice," Tracey said. "I'm also very happy with my friends, even though we can argue a lot sometimes; especially Ron and Daphne, since they are very different and hot tempered. But, when the four of us started to get closer, it was the first time I really felt like I had true friends..."

Well, I think I'm not needed here for today, the redhead thought, as he walked away with a smile on his face. Having Tracey around was one of the best things that could ever happen to Hermione; if there was something Ron knew about girls, it was that the fact needed that one friend of the same gender; and the plus that the two girls were complete opposites was also incredibly good. Man, I hope Hermione can learn to be a bit less..., serious about everything; and Tracey could also learn a pair of things about her too.

Those two getting closer could be fantastic, but that discovery just fuelled another thought in his head. That was great, but now, what the hell am I supposed to do? Since Harry is at Quidditch practice, and Neville is writing some essays, it was my turn to help with the potion, but Tracey has left me jobless, literally... Whatever, I'll go looking for Gerd and try again the morning's training; let's see if I can focus for one damn time…

---

It wasn't until the next week, after many months of training, that Ron finally managed to wake his magical aura up; and he was so focused on the task, that he only realized about it thanks to Gerd's cry of happiness. "You made it, Ron!"

Unfortunately, that was the only thing he needed to lose his focus; and the boy let her know about it with an accusatory look. "Ups, sorry about that," the Essentia apologised. "But I was so happy for you that I couldn't keep it for myself! How did it go? How did you feel? Was it good? Did you even feel anything at all?"

"Woah, woah, questions one by one, please," the redhead couldn't help himself but to smile at her. "Of course I felt it... if there was a word to describe it that would be..., I don't know, maybe alive? When all the magic expanded around me I felt so alive and awoken; as if I could really feel it for the first time in my life, not like the times when I cast a spell or charm. But it was so hard to keep up..."

"Well, this is just the beginning; but that was the sensation I wanted you to experience. You've finally reached stage one of your training! This is the most basic thing for any wizard who wants to surpass the majority."

"Will I ever be able to do the thing Daniel did to me? You know, that time he projected his aura onto me and I felt all those horrible things."

"Magical Transmutation?" Gerd asked. "Let's let time take its course; in the future, you will be able to do that, but let's stick to the basics for now; can you tell me what those are, by the way?"

"Mmh, let me think for a moment. If I remember correctly, the most basic thing about this training was being able to totally feel your own magic, in order to control it better; that, and the whole thing about reinforcing your body; which I'm pretty excited about, not gonna lie!"

"Do not get ahead of ourselves for now," Gerd smiled. "The second one is way more advanced, but the first one is correct. With a better control and feeling of your magic, comes a better management of it; and most importantly, you will be able to conceive your presence. Even if their magic were to be minuscule, any decent wizard would be able to feel every single student of this school if they were in the same room, thanks to them not being able to control their magic."

"As I just said, even if their auras weren't unlocked yet, magic constantly oozes out from a person," she went on. "Now that you are aware of your own aura, you will be able to expand and control it to have a better understanding and awareness of everything; with practice, of course. But most importantly, you can even completely shut your magic down to become untraceable; because otherwise, how can anyone conceive something they don't know it exist?"

"I see," Ron hummed. "To be honest, I felt really aware of my own body, and even of the grass I was sitting at. Despite that, I don't think it will be as easy as doing it every time I want; it is true I now know that feeling, and that will help me a great deal, but it is still very hard; and I'm not even talking about shutting it down, just to expand it a little."

"Don't worry about it; we have time to practise."

"I'm not so sure about that... I'd need to ask the Professors and the Heir to stop giving me so many headaches; do you think they will agree?"

"Forget about what I just said," the little woman sighed. "Let's try to use our time wisely, then. Despite that, I think we should stop for today; I don't want you to get so exhausted to a point in which you won't keep up tomorrow."

"If you say so," Ron said, even though he totally agreed with her. "I don't have anything to do today, by the way."

"Are you trying to say something?" Gerd raised a brow at him.

"Well, I thought we could..., I don't know, spend some time together like the good old times; it has been a while since the last time we talked about anything other than training and dark wizards looming in the darkness."

"Oh, aren't you a sweet boy?"

"Gerd?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up, please."

That made the Essentia laugh, something Ron hadn't heard in a very long time. "Okay, I'm sorry," she smiled. "I really needed to say that."

"Whatever," Ron also smiled, as he took a seat on the ground, under a tree's shadow. "How are things going? Don't you get bored spending so much time by yourself?"

"You make it sound as if I was a loner now; it isn't so bad, really; in fact, I like the forest way more than being the whole day in the castle's insides. Since you are so busy with classes and that potion, I have plenty of time to explore everywhere around; there are many intriguing and curious creatures in this forest."

"Any of those Nightmares you fear so much?"

"I don't fear them; it's just that I respect them, a lot. But no, there aren't any of those. I already told you they were extinct."

"Yeah, my bad; the three-headed dog we saw last year sure was dead; yep, there was no reason to worry about him at all."

"You know what I've seen? A colony of gigantic spiders; do you want a guided visit to their nest as a Christmas' gift?"

"Don't even joke about it," Ron said, as a cold shiver went down his spine; he really hated those awful creatures with eight legs. "Let's change the topic right now; how about..., did you have some new memories back?"

"Yep, in fact, there is a very nice one among them," Gerd told him. "The other day I remembered I had a very, very cool sword."

"I already knew that; you were fighting with it the day you showed your real self to me. You looked cool as hell, though."

"But I didn't remember anything about it, even though it was very special to me. I just knew I had a sword and that I was very good at fighting with it."

"You don't need to be so modest, you know?"

"The thing is that I remembered it was a gift from my master," Gerd ignored his pun. "I really sucked during the first years, but after many hours of failing and eating dirt, I became a master of the art; not as good as him, from what I recall, though."

"Swords are very cool," the redhead commented. "Back when we were little, the twins, Ginny and I used to play with sticks and pretend that we were brave knights, defending their kingdom—which was my house—from devil creatures, who were some gnomes; tough bastards they were; they liked to hit us back as much as they enjoyed getting hit."

A sudden streak of air ruffled his hair, as they both fell into a comfortable silence; that was the moment the boy realized how cold it was outside the castle. "You should head back inside," the Essentia told him. "It is not good to be out in the cold after sweating as much as you did."

"Yeah, I don't want to fall sick," Ron agreed, as he got up. "Even though the Heir has been inactive for quite some time, we will never know when the next attack is going to happen; and I need to be at my best for that."

"Any clues about that? Or there is still nothing?"

"Nope, we are as clueless as we were the first day; and that is what makes me very nervous. Mainly because we are going to be in the dark until we question Malfoy."

"What happened to that other plan of yours?"

"The one which needed Nott's collaboration?" Ron huffed. "I asked him about it, and that bastard answered with a: 'Maybe, who knows?' Can you believe it?"

"I see," Gerd sighed. "Then, waiting it is."

"Yep, waiting it is..."

---

Albus Dumbledore POV

Saturday 29th November, 1992 (Headmaster's office, Hogwarts) – Before dinner

It had been a long time since he last reminisced about this memory.

That didn't prevent the shivers going down his spine as he went up through the wooden stairs; three, two, one more to go, and there he was, in the room that changed the fate of the Wizarding World. Albus could remember every detail perfectly, of course; but it was always better to see the memories once again in the Pensieve.

There he stood his past self, looking with great horror and surprise at the sight in front of him; a crying baby on his crib, and a mother dead in front of it. Oh, Lily, how sorry I am that things ended like this... There wasn't a single week in which he didn't think about all the mistakes they all committed that night.

Severus, who told Tom the verses of the prophecy; Sirius, who proposed Peter as the secret keeper; James and Lily, who were such a fools, and such a great persons, to trust the wrong person, just because they considered him as family; and lastly, but not less important, Albus himself, who was supposed to be the Great Sorcerer, and still, couldn't protect his people nor stop Tom...

The cries of a baby Harry woke him up; the eyes of the boy now looking at his younger self, who had his gaze set on some dark robes, which had been forgotten in the middle of the room.

"How far did you go, Tom?" Albus muttered to the air; asking himself the same question for the millionth time. "I need to revise the next memory..."

And just like that, with the simple command of his mind, the Great Sorcerer found himself back at Hogwarts, embraced by the familiar warmth of his office; some days after the night in which Tom's fate changed.

"I won't ever believe for a monster like him to end like that," a blond wizard stated, sitting just in front of him. "You know it as well as I do, Albus; if lesser wizards could do it in the past, he will go much further than them... I fear even death can't stop Lord Voldemort..."

Even at the young age of twenty-nine, Elend Shawn looked as if he had just come back from hell; and maybe, even that was putting it short. Since the moment he was sorted into Slytherin, the boy had everything needed to stand out from all his year mates; a renowned surname; very good looks; great social skills; and the most important thing, a talent for magic only very few wizards could dream to have.

But the man who sat in front of Albus was just a mere husk of what he should have been. His bright, golden hair had lost all its shine, and now it was of an ashen tonality; his eyes were surrounded by deep bags, which only made their blue colour to look way duller than ever.

That was the true horror of war; how easy it could steal all the dreams and hopes from any boy's eyes...

"I agree with you, Elend," his past self answered, with a tired sigh. "When I made it to the Potter's residence, there was not a single trace of him; just some discarded robes on the floor, as if the body had just evaporated. I am aware you are very acknowledged in many fields of magic, so I won't beat around the bush with you; we are thinking about the same thing, right? That is the reason why you came here."

"There is only one aberration which can even surpass the power of death: a Horcrux."

"Yes, but that is everything I know," Albus admitted. "I was never brave enough to learn about them, and that was another mistake on my part; one of the many... There aren't many wizards in history who have dared to exchange their souls for more time in this world... but we are talking about Tom; of course he wouldn't care about such a little price to pay..."

"During my time as an Unspeakable, I saw and experienced many disturbing things," Elend confessed. "There is a restricted chamber, one which only people like me, a member of the highest ranked Unspeakables, are granted access to; there, I read many documents about the aberration those objects are. I learned about their ritual; on what is the price to pay... on how it affects your soul, mind and body..."

"But that was everything," the young man went on. "All the fools who tried to reach immortality failed, and died under great pain. There are theories about it; on whether they lacked the power, or the sheer desire to live; but there is also the theory that no one could ever survive the ritual because they were just doing it for the sake of researching. That is all the documented information, Albus; conjectures, failed experiments, and a mountain of corpses."

"Just as I feared," the old Headmaster sighed. "I certainly haven't read as much as you have, but there is one thing I am very certain of; none of that information matters; those fools who tried to beat death in the past were regular humans, Tom is way past that; if there is anyone from who we can expect the impossible, it is him."

"And what are we going to do about it? Are we gonna wait here for him to appear once again? Living with that dread every single day of our fucking lives?"

"We are not going to limit ourselves with that, nor can we," Albus stated. "First, there still are plenty of his supporters we need to deal with; including the likes of Bellatrix, Dolohov, and the Lestrange brothers. Secondly, we will be keeping a close watch on everything, during every single day of the rest of our lives, Elend."

The blond wizard was about to speak, but Albus was faster this time. "As I said before, it is true we know nothing about the state in which Tom was left after his own magic turned against him. But, if there is something this old life of mine has taught me, it is to never underestimate the power of us humans; our emotions, which come from our heart; our will to live, which comes from our soul; our sense to distinguish the actions that are evil or good, which comes from our mind... When a person loses its humanity in order to win more time... I highly doubt that person can even crawl back to its prior state."

"That is the exact thing you told Covan, when he questioned you about everything the night it ended," Elend muttered. "I can see your point; maybe because if I don't trust your word, I might go mad... I just hope for you to be right, Albus; because I don't have the will to fight another day..."

Me neither, my old friend, Albus sighed, as he left the memory to return to his office. Oh, how wrong was I... it doesn't matter how hard I try, you are always many steps ahead of me, Tom... The old man really believed in those words when he said them to Elend; oh, how wrong he was.

Ten years; that was all the time Tom had needed to come back to the realm of the living...

The only point in their favour was how weakened he must be; because Tom Marvolo Riddle would never take possession of another body like he did with Quirrell; neither he would drink the blood of an Unicorn, because if there was something worse for him than lesser wizards, those were magical creatures.

Just as it had always been, their best weapons against him were his arrogance and pride.

The old man allowed his eyes to rest; even though darkness only fuelled those grim thoughts which always were at the back of his mind. "Have you opened the Chamber of Secrets once again, Tom?" The words came out before he could stop them; sometimes, it was better to voice out all the worries a man had. "Is this some kind of diversion to keep me busy while you recover? How dangerous is this loyal follower of yours who freed Peter? Are you already recruiting men? Is it even possible for you to get your powers back?"

Unfortunately, the only question he had an answer for was the last one; of course there was a way for him to come back; there was nothing impossible for Tom.

And so it had to be for him.

He was Albus Dumbledore, the Great Sorcerer, and he needed to tip the scales; at least, until Harry was ready to assume the role which was fated for him. But that needed to start with the protection of the students; no, he was not going to allow for it to happen again; there was not going to be another Myrtle.

---

Lord Elend Shawn POV

Monday 1st December, 1992 (Sweden) – Early morning

December definitely was not a good month to visit Sweden; especially, a manor lost in the middle of an iced valley; but there were some things which needed to be done.

It wasn't in the form of a storm, but the snow still rained at a very high pace; and it must have been like that for the past days, because all the pines and vegetation were completely frozen.

The snow almost reached the hip's height, but that wasn't a problem for Elend, whose body was emitting enough heat to melt it as he walked; still, he didn't like to waste magic in such a mundane thing. Fortunately, the man had to stop as soon as he reached the lake that circled his old friend's manor, which was built in the middle of a little island; the frozen water acting as the perfect bridge.

As an act of courtesy, Elend expanded his aura to announce his presence; the manor didn't have any protective wards, and he didn't want to be mistaken as some kind of intruder.

Ludwig Larsson was a really peculiar man.

Since his father, Lord Gustav Larsson, denied him the lordship of the Great House of Larsson due to their multiple 'differences', Ludwig came here, to this remote wasteland, to live in peace; as long as his son was attending school, you wouldn't find the man in any warmer place. Having commodities and a safe place wasn't the man's style.

Many would consider him to be a madman, and Elend completely agreed with them; how could anyone leave his manor completely unprotected? Especially, when loads of people knew how many treasures and wealth the little fortress had.

Well, that was easy to answer; Ludwig Larsson himself was the only defensive ward the place had; anyone who dared to intrude his place was welcomed to try; even though after the first raiders failed, not many people gave it a go anymore. For them, it meant an early grave; for Ludwig, a boring challenge.

The fortress' gate was opened as soon as Elend was near enough; just as many torches, which lighted the place with their blue flames, were ignited to the tune of his strides.

It really was the perfect household for his old friend.

A fortress made of pure black stone; not a single architectural detail, just the grim elegance of a volcanic rock. If it wasn't enough with one, there were two very tall walls, maybe around twenty metres each, and separated by a space big enough to build a Quidditch field; the reason for that? Well, Ludwig liked to have a small portion of terrain to fight without giving a single thought to his castle; as the numerous and different skeletons proven, which had been left all over the place to freeze in peace.

It wasn't until Elend was midway towards the second wall, when he felt two presences near him. Who are those people? It isn't Ludwig or any relative of his... at least, not anyone whom I know. The two magical presences just stood there, observing him from atop of the fortress.

Not as if that mattered, because Ludwig suddenly came out of the castle; walking towards him, with long strides, as the British waited. He was the same berserker of a man he had always been.

Even though Elend was happy with his height, which was slightly above six feet tall, it paled in front of a man like Ludwig, who was more than a head taller than him; needless was to comment about the amount of muscle he had over him. But there was something new about him, and it was his hairstyle; he had the sides completely shaved, with some new and dark tattoos on them, meanwhile, atop of his head the hair was slightly longer, but it was almost unnoticeable; and all of that was accompanied by a messy, short beard, which hadn't been cut in a week or so.

"Elend, you old bastard!" Ludwig exclaimed as a greeting; even time wasn't enough to leave a mark on his character. "At first, I couldn't recognise your aura, my man! My blood was already boiling with the opportunity to fight such a strong intruder, but then, my instincts kind of regained control and I finally put a face to the unknown presence."

"It has certainly been too many years," Elend smiled back, as the berserker almost knocked out all the air in his lungs with a strong embrace; it truly was great to see one of his best friends after such a long time.

"I see you came prepared for this ruthless weather, eh?" He said, while examining the robes Elend was wearing for the visit.

They weren't anything special; in fact, they were pretty similar to the ones he always wore to the social events: a long tunic of an azure-blue colour with the shield of his House embedded on them, a golden phoenix and the two black swords crossed behind it; the only change was the addition of a very warm and comfy fur on top of the outfit.

"I'm not used to this weather, and I don't really like using my magic too much on mundane things like heating my own body up," the British answered. "Melting the tons of snow I found on my way here was more than enough."

"You haven't changed at all, eh?"

"Those little fixations are never meant to leave us, and I'm sure you also have plenty of them; as the many skeletons out there tell by themselves."

"A man gotta defend his home, isn't that right?"

"Of course you would say that; by the way, who are those two presences I'm feeling?" Elend asked, changing the topic. "They are humans, but that is all I can tell from them so far."

"Long story," Ludwig sighed, as he beckoned him to follow him. "Let's get inside; I'll tell you about it in the way."

"Lead the way."

"You know this part of Sweden is a very dangerous one, right? One of those rare areas in the world plagued with many dangerous and unique beasts. Well, the thing is for one of my 'spiritual retirements', I decided to explore the valley; it wasn't long after moving here, and it wasn't winter yet, so it was the ideal time for it. After many days of wandering around, I found some wooden hut atop of a little mountain, so I knocked on the door to let whoever lived here know that I was outside his house."

"Things didn't turn out so well, right?" Elend asked, having heard many stories that started just like that.

"Jackpot," Ludwig nodded. "In low temperatures, the smells are way less noticeable, so it wasn't until I got inside that I understood what had happened there."

"An attack from one of those magical creatures?"

"Son of a bitch, can't you stop guessing everything? Man, telling a story completely loses its fun if the spectators can't shut the hell up."

"Sorry, keep going."

"As if you actually were," the Swedish laughed. "Whatever, where was I? Oh, when I found the blood, yes; oh, there also was the corpse of a woman near the hut, but that isn't important right now. After that, I followed the trails, and it led me inside the forest, but since night was about to come, I needed to do it quickly, so I ran and ran until I found some little cave near a river. Can you imagine what was waiting for me there?"

"I can imagine, but go on, please."

"It was a Graphorn, and it was already dead by the time I got there; by its side there was another corpse, of a grown man; a muggle hunter to be precise. The feat he had accomplished kinda moved me, so I couldn't leave that place without giving him a proper burial; but, when I was about to grab his body, a stunner was thrown at me; a pretty weak one, I must say."

"Wait, let me guess the ending of the story," Elend cut in. "I think I have it. The muggle hunter died because he was protecting someone from the Graphorn; probably his kids. And judging by how the story is going, those two presences in there must be those children you rescued that day, right?"

"Jackpot, once again," Ludwig huffed, as the two men finally got inside of the fortress; the inside was just as austere as the exterior. "You were a bit short on the details, though. They were a family of four people: the muggle hunter; the woman whose corpse was outside their hut was the mother, and she was a witch; and the two kids—an older daughter and a younger son—who were students attending the National Swedish School of Magic."

"So you took them under your wing."

"I wasn't going to leave them behind; besides, the girl had just sent a stunner at me; she had guts, and I like that."

To reach the top of the little castle, a lot of stairs were needed, thankfully, the interesting story was making the long walk way more enjoyable. "Must have been quite the trauma for them," Elend stated.

"The first years were very rough," Ludwig admitted. "They barely talked, and they didn't come back to the school; they just didn't care about anything. Thankfully, they were old enough to understand what had happened to them, and they really wanted to move on and keep living; otherwise, it would have been an insult to their parents."

The corridors were very similar to those at Elend's manor, with the same kind of decoration: some banners hanging from the walls; a few metal armours here and there; many sets of different kinds of weapons being proudly shown behind immaculate display cabinets…

The Great House of Larsson was also one of the very few families which descended from the old Alazthi clan, but they didn't care so much about that legacy; not as much as the Great House of Shawn did, at least.

"When I introduced my son to them, that was the key moment for their 'recovery'," Ludwig confessed. "It was in 1987, or so I think; the girl was sixteen and the boy thirteen, and they practically adopted him as a younger brother. In the present, they've completely gotten over the trauma. You can consider them as my wards."

Just as the man finished the story, they reached his main office, atop of the fortress; or that was what Elend thought the purpose of the almost empty room was.

Just as every other part of the structure, the walls were made of the same volcanic stone, but this time, the floor was covered by a very large, and even beautiful, carpet; which illustrated a battle between the old Alazthi and the Nightmares, the magical creatures who fought them for years and years. In the middle of it, there was a very big wooden table, with an incandescent brazier under it; its flames heating and illuminating the room.

"It is not much, but I'm not used to have..., peaceful visitors here," Ludwig pointed out. "You have yet to tell me the reason for your visit; it must be very important, because otherwise, you wouldn't have come here, to this remote wasteland."

"It is very important, indeed," Elend sighed. "I'm knees deep in shit, Ludwig. I have very powerful enemies, and very few resources to fight them."

"Woah, wasn't expecting any of that," the berserker whistled; but just as Elend wanted, those words had woken the fire behind his eyes.

Among all the pureblood lords who opposed Lord Voldemort in the war, Ludwig probably was one of the very few with no traumatic sequels about it; those times had been hell for everyone, him included, of course; but that didn't change the fact that those years had also been the ones when the Swedish had probably felt as alive as he had ever been.

"Do you remember the war?" Elend asked.

"How could I forget?"

"That mad bastard almost ended the world…" the British muttered. "He managed to convince many to join him, but we were able to see through it; there was no way Voldemort was stopping there, with his 'Purification of the World'... no, he was a menace for everyone, us purebloods included. Despite how easy it was for us to see it, the great majority of our kind ignored it and instantly swore many oaths to aid him as soon as he rose to power."

"Yeah, I remember it like it was yesterday. Your father wanted for your family to remain neutral, but since he had already passed the lordship down onto you, he had no other option but escaping from the country and remaining in silence; meanwhile, my father..., damn Lord, that was the third time I almost was disinherited, and the worst of them."

"And yet, you rose against him and aided us as soon as the war started."

"Of course!" Ludwig said, as if that had been the easiest choice of his life. "That monster was not going to stop where his promises said; I understood it the first time I looked at his eyes, when he personally came to my family's manor in order to recruit us, a year before the war started. No, once the resistance was crushed and Albus Dumbledore was dead, it was our turn next. That man was going to strip us from our liberties and positions of power, because had he won the war, we would have been the only ones who could have ever threatened his empire."

"Do you also remember what I told you after Voldemort was defeated?"

"That thing about him not really being dead? Yeah, of course; you told me about the existence of a certain way to avoid death; hell, I almost shit my pants there. But you also told me that if he were ever to come again, it will be many years in the future; because even a monster like him wasn't above the limitations both our souls and bodies are bound to never surpass."

"I still think that way, and so does Dumbledore," Elend reassured him. "No, I didn't come here to talk about Lord Voldemort; that is something I hope to not do ever again. But, what if there was someone before him? Someone who wished so hard to beat death, that he even created an abomination with that purpose."

"I'm not gonna lie to you, but I'm lost here," Ludwig admitted. "Beating death and all those concepts just aren't possible in my mind; especially if we aren't talking about Voldemort. What do you mean by that? Do you have any solid proof about anything?"

"No, I don't," Elend answered. "Because no one in the world really knows a shit about this; not even in history; except for one person, that's it. I'm talking about the creator of the Horcruxes himself, Herpo the Foul. And I'm also talking about some persons from our time, who are trying very hard to find his Horrcurx. Now, thanks to very special information, I know it exists, and that it isn't some stupid myth created to exalt Herpo's figure."

"What I'm trying to do is stop them before they find it," the British wizard went on. "Because if there is a way to know everything about beating death, is that one. I fear what they can find; because that could mean the birth of a new dark lord; or even worse, the possibility of someone who followed Voldemort in the past obtaining the information needed to bring him back somehow. That is the reason why I came here; now, what do you have to say, my old friend?"

The man's facial expression remained totally impassive, looking at him eye to eye; but then, after some seconds of silence, he got up from his chair, and snapped his fingers. "I want you to prepare a really nice banquet for four persons," Ludwig grunted, as the same time as a domestic-elf appeared in the room; after that, he turned to look at Elend once again. "What do I have to say? That you better have nothing to do tonight, because you are going to explain me everything from the beginning; and I want every fucking detail you know."

That finally put a smile on Elend's face; Ludwig was in. "It is gonna be a long night, then," he smiled. "What do you know about the Order of Merlin?"

---

Ronald Weasley POV

Wednesday 3rd December, 1992 (Hogwarts) – Lunch time

Much to their surprise, Blaise decided to sit with them once again.

It had been something out of nowhere, but after the day when Ron gave them the chance to help in the tracking of the Heir, the boy had just stopped hanging out with them; it wasn't a decision based on anger or something like that, at least, that is what the redhead liked to think; and that was the first thing he wanted to know. "Ehm, wasn't expecting you to sit with us today, not gonna lie," Ron asked him, still a bit surprised. "Mind enlightening us?"

The boy just poured some food on his plate. "Nothing in particular," he ended up saying, with a shrug of his shoulders. "But after the looks you were sending me that day, I figured out we were going to need a..., certain time to cool off; at least, you needed it."

"You are exaggerating it," Daphne piped in, and the redhead completely agreed with her; this time, he hadn't been so..., fuming, or so he thought.

"Most likely," Blaise agreed with her. "But I always go for the safer option; that is why I took a few more days to come back. I didn't want to leave the castle for the holidays with you guys and me on bad terms, though."

"Listen, I don't really want to have this talk," Ron groaned. "These sausages are really, really good, and I don't want a bad mood ruining it; so, what about we forget about it and act as if nothing had happened at all?"

"I don't think that is the best option, but I will not be the one to start a fight here."

"Mmm, you were right, Ron," Tracey joined the conversation. "The sausages are really good; have you tried the mashed potatoes? They have a different spice today..." Just like that, the brunette girl ended the possible argument, and the four of them enjoyed the meal as a group for the first time in more than two weeks.

What they didn't know was that Blaise's comeback was not going to be the last surprise that day.

When they were coming back to their common room, the group saw a large gathering of people outside of the Great Hall; they were reading some kind of parchment which had been pinned on the wall. "Hey, what is happening there?" Blaise asked Alaine Baldwin, a first year girl from Slytherin, who was one of the most promising students of her promotion; or so they had heard.

"Lockhart is starting a duelling club!" Alaine answered, quite enthusiastic; her twin, long braids swaying up and down thanks to the way she was jumping on the spot. "I can't wait to see what he's prepared for it!"

A duelling club, eh? Sounds pretty interesting if you ask me. This could be his perfect chance to fight against someone other than Nott; even if he didn't have so much faith in the other second years. Wait, maybe we can duel older students... Fourth year and above sure are going to kick my arse, but students from third year shouldn't be that much of a problem...

"Your face just lit up as a torch," Daphne told him. "Are you really so interested in it?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I am!"

He didn't seem to be the only one. "I wouldn't mind some duelling lessons," the voice of Dean Thomas came to them. "With all the shit that is happening right now..."

"You against the monster of Slytherin, the fight of the century, bro," Finnegan laughed.

"The first meeting is tonight," Blaise let the others know. "The parchment says the students are going to be divided into three groups; us, second years, are with the first and third. I guess I don't even have to ask, right?"

"Nope," Tracey answered, also smiling quite excitedly.

"Whatever," Blaise sighed. "Agh, I hate going to sleep tiredly..."

"I will finally be able to see you eating dirt; well, solid floor this time," Daphne smirked at the redhead. "You owe me a duel with Nott; I really want to see how good you are."

"Are you crazy? I'm not even crossing looks with that bastard today... Merlin, I hope he doesn't hear about the duelling club"

"I would say it is a bit too late for that; he just walked away from here after looking at the parchment."

"Fantastic news..."

At eight o'clock, they all were back in the Great Hall; the tables had vanished to make space for the golden stage which had appeared in the middle of the hall, lit by hundreds of torches; both floating above it, and by the sides.

Ron didn't know if everyone was here, but ninety percent of the students sure were, because the hall was packed as hell. He distinguished the fiery hair of his sister among the crowd, just as he located Harry and the others, who were waiting for Lockhart to make an appearance very close to the centre of the stage; he also spotted Nott, who was walking towards them.

"I don't know why that git of Lockhart has to be the teacher here," he commented, as soon as he was close enough. "But whatever, this is better than nothing."

"Wasn't Professor Flitwick a World Champion when he was younger?" Blaise asked him; since the redhead had also heard something similar, that question definitely piqued his attention.

"He still is, though," Nott answered. "That title is for life; and unlike my father, he won at the maximum category. The level was far worse that year, of course. Flitwick would have won a shit if he had faced some of the people my father had: Leon Krause, Nalar and Elend Shawn... those are really tough bastards."

"It is still awesome, though," Ron defended the small professor; he had always liked him and the way he worried about the students.

"Of course it is; I'm just saying that he ain't better than my father..."

The boy stopped talking because Lockhart, out of a sudden, had jumped onto the stage; walking with the same elegant robes as always and with the same gleaming smile he loved so much. But, what nobody expected was to see Professor Snape walking right behind him.

It was a funny sight; maybe because one was dressed in full black robes, while the other's golden robes seemed to light the whole place by themselves. "Gather around, my students!" Lockhart exclaimed. "Can you all hear and see me? That is excellent! Hello everyone! Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little club, in which you all will learn, from the best teacher possible—I'm the one, of course—how to defend yourselves in the case of being attacked! Something very important these days! But don't worry, no Heir will ever harm you if you follow my advice!"

That completely silenced the whole hall.

For Ron, it was very incredible to see how many students could still believe for that man to be all things he said he was; hell, even very intelligent people like Hermione had a blind faith in him. But, even if he hated it, the redhead had to admit the bastard really knew how to sell himself; even if five minutes in the same room as the man was the only thing needed for someone to understand how much of a fraud he was.

"I still can't believe he is gonna tutor us in person," Alaine Baldwin whispered to another first year girl from Slytherin.

At least, there were others who shared his opinion. "Man, I hope he asks me to duel him," Nott muttered. "I'm gonna wipe the whole Great Hall with that mop of hair he has in the head..."

Wouldn't that be a lovely thing to see? Unfortunately, the Professor had other plans.

"Let me introduce my assistant for today's meeting," Lockhart started. "Professor Snape! He told me he knew a bit about the noble art of duelling, and who was I to say no? We've decided that a little demonstration would be the best way to open the night; after that, it would be you the ones to practise! Now, I know what you are all thinking right now, but do not fear, I won't cause any harm to your potions professor!"

"I think the Headmaster will have to look for another Defence professor," Blaise muttered. "Dear Merlin, if it was me the one to receive that glare, I'm moving schools... how can he not see it?"

The two Professors faced each other; one with a gleaming smile, and the other with a murderous look. Then, without uttering a single word, they both bowed and took a stance for the duel; their wands already on their hands. I don't know about his real skills, but the bastard has a quick draw... he is a bloody master of the art of feigning...

"As you can see, we hold our wand in front of us," Lockhart explained. "This would be one of the many ways to do it, but it is important to have your main way of defence in front of you! Now, on the count of three we will fire our spells! One... Two... Three!"

Both of them swung their wands as the same time; while Lockhart did it in a much more gracious way, Snape's came down as a whip, and from its tip, a scarlet light was fired; the next second, the other Professor was sent flying backwards off the stage, getting smashed into the wall. There was a collective gasp, and many students started to mutter about the idiot's wellbeing. "Man, that was a fantastic draw," Nott whistled. "Professor Snape used the Disarming charm but didn't even aim for his wand; what a clever idea."

So that is what happens when a strong Disarming charm hits a person in another part of his body, Ron took notes on his mind. On top of that, he casted it non-verbally... It's been a while since I last saw something like that. The Head of Slytherin always gave those kinds of vibes which screamed bad news; this wasn't the first time the redhead saw him in action, but it didn't matter; his magic was always a nice spectacle to watch.

"I'm okay! I'm okay!" Lockhart exclaimed, trying his best to get back on his feet. "Well... t-there you have it! That was a rather normal Disarming charm! Even though I could have easily dodged that, I let it hit me, and now, as you can see, I've lost my wand—oh, thank you Mrs Brown, yeah don't worry, I'm totally fine—well, where was I? Oh yeah, as I was saying, that is a nice spell for beginners, and it is a must for the second years and above; so, for the first years..., well, you can give it a try, or you can practise something else?"

"Sir, but..., what can we practice if we haven't duelled before?" A first year student from Ravenclaw asked.

"Oh, that is a good question... what about..."

"As soon as the students get divided, we will tell you and the other first years a few options to practice," Snape stated, sending a very sour look to the other Professor.

"Well, time to split up!" Lockhart smiled at everyone, as if nothing had happened.

Even before Nott could open his mouth, Ron was already by the side of Daphne, who happened to be the person closest to him at that moment. "I will be your partner," the redhead told her. "There is no other option, so spare what you are about to say; and don't look at Nott's direction."

"Jeez, you don't need to be so pushy; I wasn't gonna say anything," Daphne huffed.

"Just in case."

Now that he was safe, Ron eyed the rest of the class; Neville had been paired with some boy from Hufflepuff whose name was a bit too long for the redhead to remember; Tracey had practically ran to get to Blaise's side before anyone else could; Hermione had been paired with Bulstrode; and Harry..., the poor boy had the bad luck to be Nott's partner. I wish you good luck, mate; I've been there and it is no pretty thing...

"Hey, what are you looking at? I'm your partner here," Daphne said, snapping her fingers in front of him. "What are we supposed to do now?"

"Well, they said it was time to practise the Disarming charm, so I guess that is what we need to do," Ron answered. "Come on, you can go first."

"The Disarming charm, really? But we've already practised it in class!"

"Trust me, that was nothing; why don't you try and see? Come on, try to hit me right in my wand hand."

Sending him a weird look, the blonde aimed her wand at him. "Expeliarmus," she chanted. A little, red spark came from it, and flew towards the redhead, who waited without moving. The spell missed its target and hit him right on the forearm; it hurt a little, almost as if some big insect had just stung him, but it was nothing when comparing it with Nott's.

"See?" Ron smirked at her. "I told you it wasn't so easy. This spell in particular is rather hard to control well enough. Its only purpose when created was for duelling, so it comes way quicker from your wand than other spells we've practiced in class, but in exchange, it loses control and it's harder to aim."

"Woah, how do you know that?"

"I read books in my free time, you know?" Ron told her, and the girl just raised a brow in response. "Okay, that was the explanation Nott gave me when I was having problems with it; jeez girl, you really have problems trusting my word."

"What can I do to aim better?" Daphne asked, completely ignoring him.

"Well, I don't know if this works for everyone, but for me it was just a matter of focus," Ron explained. "All the spells and charms we've practiced in class since we started are different from this one, in the way that it doesn't matter their point of impact; if they hit the person, they work. The Disarming charm is different, though; did you see how Snape sent Lockhart flying?"

"Of course I did."

"Well that is what happens when this spell doesn't hit its target; if it had hit his wand, he would have been disarmed instead of flying off the stage."

"Oh, I see; by the way, what did you feel when I hit you on your forearm?"

"Oh, just a very nasty stung, but nothing too painful."

They took turns to curse each other, and much to Ron's surprise, Daphne was a rather quick learner; sure, the redhead knew she was very intelligent, but the blonde girl always lacked spirit and never practiced to perfect anything; she was the kind of a person who was okay with just knowing how to do something, rather than mastering it.

There were a few times when he had to dodge some stray spells; most of the time, from very embarrassed first years. Despite that, everyone seemed to be having fun and doing well. "Listen to me, my talented pupils!" Lockhart exclaimed from atop of the stage. "We've just practised one of the most basic attacks, but now, it is time for the defence; I know it doesn't sound so cool, but that is because you didn't see me when I protected some civilians from a criminal's attack-"

"As Gilderoy was saying, there are quite a few ways to defend yourselves from enemies' attacks," Snape cut in. "The most famous of them being the Shield charm; with its many variations, of course. Now, that is something taught at sixth year, only for those students whose qualifications are good enough to be accepted at Defence Against the Dark Arts. A good Shield charm is something very difficult to achieve, but if any of you happens to be able to cast a basic one, go ahead and do it; this goes especially for the third years."

"But for the rest, we are going to practise another very standard way; using the General Counter-Spell," the Professor went on. "Once again, we will explain it to the first year in detail, but for everyone else, since you've already practised it in Charms, are free to start!"

"What a happy person," Daphne muttered by the redhead's side.

"Maybe, but you can't say he doesn't get the work done," Ron pointed out. "Come on, let's get going."

"Do you have any tips for this?"

"Nope, what we practised with Flitwick is pretty much everything; just try to perfect your timing, though; that is the most important thing. Wait, actually, there is something else; do you remember what we practised in Charms?"

"That thing about intercepting the enemy's spell with the General Counter-Spell, right?"

"Yep, but we did it while both spells were still midair," Ron explained. "There is another one, and it is called parrying; it consists in waiting until the last moment to terminate the spell coming at you. It is way harder, but once you get a hold of it, the rewards can be way greater. Let's get into it!"

Both of them exchanged spell after spell, their foreheads soon covered in sweat. "I need a moment to rest," Daphne managed to say, trying to regain her breath.

"Of course, take all the time you need," Ron answered, failing pretty hard at hiding how breathless he also was. Merlin, how is this girl able to follow me for so long? She can't be so obstinate just because she doesn't want to admit I'm way better than her... right?

"You aren't... so good at this..." she spluttered, as she used the sleeve of her sweater to clean her sweat.

"What?"

"I said... that you aren't so good at this. You are barely able to time your Finite with my spells, and I even hit you a few times; way more than what I thought I would, at least."

"I don't usually practise this parry thing," Ron admitted. "Most of the time I train by myself, so unless a tree starts firing curses at me I can't do a shit. When I have someone to spar with, that one is Nott; trust me, there is no way I'm actually trying to parry his spells; I just jump or roll away as best as I can."

"Okay! I think that is enough for today!" Lockhart interrupted them once again. "Now, let's get to the best part of the night! After practising both defence and offence, we will host a few duels at the stage! Let's see... how about... oh, I got it; I want two first years to volunteer themselves to duel here!"

There was a short period of silence in which everyone looked from one first year to another, and then, the first hand raised to the air; it was Alaine Baldwin. "I will do it," she proudly announced, taking a step forward with confidence. It was a rare thing to see, but the dark-haired girl was very straightforward and optimistic with her skills. In fact, she was the only first year student from Slytherin whose presence was notable enough for Ron to remember.

From what the redhead had heard, Alaine was a half-blood girl—the magical side of the family being his mother's—with very common looks; she was rather short even for a first year, something his long, straight hair emphasized when it wasn't styled up, giving the impression that there was more hair than upper body; her eyes were of a deep brown. The same could be said for her twin brother, who had been sorted in Ravenclaw, and was looking at her with a bored look from the crowd.

Then, much to Ron's surprise, the other first year to volunteer was none other than his own sister, who hopped onto the stage just as confident as Alaine did. "Hey, isn't that your sister?" Daphne softly elbowed him. "From what I've heard, she is doing rather nice at classes; she is just as persistent as you were last year."

"Well, it must come on the blood or something like that," Ron shrugged it off; he was very interested to see what Ginny was planning to do.

"Look at that; Slytherin against Gryffindor in the first duel!" Lockhart chirpily commented. "Remember this, young ladies: I want a fair and elegant duel; the first one to disarm the other wins; I don't want anything too dangerous."

"They are just first years, you don't need to say that," a third year student from Gryffindor joked, not far from where Ron was standing. He was a tall boy with blondish hair, and based on the times the redhead had seen him, the boy seemed to be quite popular; still, there was something about how he acted that was almost screaming how much of a jerk he was.

"At the count of three, you are free to start," Snape told the girls. "One... Two... Three!"

Alaine was quick to fire, but Ginny was faster; from the tip of her wand came the familiar scarlet spark of the Disarming charm, but it wasn't the best aimed one Ron had ever seen, to say something; despite that, Alaine jumped away from it, in a not very gracious way.

Both of the girls started to throw simple spells at each other, despite that, none of them were hitting the target; on the one hand, the two of them were pretty good at firing spell after spell, but on the other hand, the fight was the perfect example of what a duel between beginners would look like.

Alaine's short frame made her a harder target to hit, and the girl was making a good use of it by running everywhere; but Ginny grew up with six brothers, and playing many games with the twins and Ron himself, there was no way she would lose in a battle of endurance.

Not as if mattered, because with a practically newly found skill, Ginny successfully parried one of Alaine's Body-bind charms, leaving the black-haired girl completely astonished for a moment. That was all the time the Gryffindor needed to cast a nice Disarming charm, which hit her rival right in the hand with the wand.

Ginny had won the first duel.

All the Gryffindors started to clap, and even the blonde jerk from third year looked rather impressed. From her part, Ginny smiled at the crowd, and bowed in a rather exaggerated way; something that certainly increased the applause.

"Your sister seems to be..., a bit proud of her skills," Daphne pointed out, clapping without much energy.

"To be honest, I'm quite speechless right now," Ron admitted, pinching himself on the cheek to see if he was dreaming. "Ginny had always been very talented at everything we did, but woah, I would have never imagined for her to be this good after just three months of school."

While his sister was being received with a loud clapping and many praises, Alaine still was on the stage, looking rather sad and being consoled by Lockhart. "Oh, she is crying," Daphne said. "Poor girl... I would give her a hug if she was in front of me..."

When the Slytherin first year got down from the stage, some tears were still rolling down her face, but now, she was close enough for them to hear her blabbering. "I-I lost i-in front of L-Lockhart," she cried, as she was patted on the back by her friends.

"You know what? Forget what I just said," Daphne muttered.

Just with the simple act of raising a hand in the air, Professor Snape silenced the crowd; despite that, it was Lockhart the one to speak. "That was incredible for the first duel of the night," he announced. "But now it is time for the real spectacle! I want two new volunteers; there is no age restriction this time!"

"Aren't you gonna give it a try?" Daphne asked him.

"No way. I don't want to fight in front of everyone," Ron answered.

A sudden uproar interrupted their conversation; the third year boy from Gryffindor was walking towards the stage with a silly smirk on his face. "There it is, our first brave duellist!" Lockhart clapped. "I'm definitely not surprised at all, young Cormac! I've always known you had what it takes to become a great wizard; just like me!"

"Oh, that must be Cormac McLaggen," Daphne sighed.

"Do you know him?" Ron asked

"I know who he is, if that is what you mean. His uncle, Tiberius McLaggen, is a very important person within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. His family was sometimes invited to the pureblood events, and they often attended if they weren't hosted by Malfoy, Nott and these kinds of names."

"Is he an Auror?"

"I don't think so, but I can't give you a precise answer; never really cared about his family."

Thanks to their muttering, they missed the new challenger jumping onto the stage; accompanied by an orchestra of muttering and whispers, Theodore Nott mockingly bowed in front of his opponent. "Oh, you are a second year, right, Nott?" Lockhart smiled at him. "That is the spirit I love from my students, but are you sure you want to face Cormac?"

"I think Mr Nott is a very capable wizard," Snape cut in, smiling in a rather dark way.

"Oh, if that is the case, then I suppose this will be the second combat."

Ron heard how the students started to bet on who the winner was going to be, and nobody really seemed to have much faith in Nott; except for the second years from Slytherin, who were observing the weedy boy with anticipation in their eyes. I forgot the rest of the students know a shit about him... damn, brace yourself for the impact, people; hurricane Nott is about to start.

"At the count of three! One... Two... Three!"

Ginny had been quick at firing the first spell, but Nott was on another level; his wand came down with the speed of the wind, throwing a very precise Disarming charm to his opponent; but he didn't stop there, almost instantly, the lanky boy continued the descendant movement and chained it with another spell; from Ron's perspective, and thanks to his experience at receiving them, they looked like two strong Bombarda.

For a moment, McLaggen was left rooted on the spot after dodging the first spell, his face showing nothing but astonishment; but the boy was quick to react. "Protego!" He chanted, just as the two curses impacted against an invisible wall, just a few metres before him.

The crowd gasped, whether it was because of the shield or because Nott's quick attack was something Ron didn't know; but he didn't care; the only thing he could do right now was observing the duel with avid eyes.

If the first combat had been a beginner's show, this one was the total opposite; Nott's movement looked far more polished and calculated, but McLaggen was following his pace without much problems; both of them parrying several spells with Finite after Finite. "Come on, Cormac; show that boy which is the better house!" One of his friends exclaimed from the crowd.

That erased the smirk from Nott's face, which adopted a much colder look; and that meant bad news for the Gryffindor. In terms of magical power, the two of them seemed to be even, but if there was something Ron understood long ago, it was to never underestimate the weedy boy. "Impedimenta!" He chanted, his wand pointed at the floor.

That elevated him a few metres from the floor, allowing him to dodge three spells with just one movement; and before he landed, the boy's wand danced at the tune of his wrist. "Glacius! Bombarda! Draconifors!" He almost shouted, his cold demeanour totally gone thanks to the battle's exigencies.

Not waiting for him to finish, McLaggen just stepped back a few metres, thinking that was everything he needed to dodge the attack; how wrong he was. The floor in front of him was covered in a layer of ice, which was exploded almost instantly by the Exploding charm, turning it into a bunch of ice fragments; that was the moment when the third spell made effect; and it was bloody fantastic.

All those falling fragments of ice were transfigured into dozens of very tiny dragons; the great majority of them seemed to be made of ice, but a few had very similar scales to those true dragons had. For a moment, McLaggen's face showed nothing but a mix between fear and surprise; but the Gryffindor boy was good, even if Ron hated to admit it.

In a situation in which most of the people would have been paralyzed, the third year boy casted a shield in time, just before some of the tiny dragons started to shower him with fire.

His brother Charlie once told him and the twins that the most important thing in a duel was to keep the composure and a cold mind during every single second, and it was now when Ron really understood why. The Shield charm was a way more effective defence than his simple jumps and rolls over were, but unlike the first one, they didn't waste any magic; and McLaggen, probably due to the surprise, had casted a more powerful shield this time; something that was taking a toll on him right now, as his whitening face indicated.

Finally, after some seconds in the air, Nott landed, using a very soft Knockback jinx to soften the impact; the boy didn't stop there, though. He sprinted towards McLaggen, who could do nothing but to keep the shield up. "What a disgrace of a transfiguration you just did, you fucking idiot," the Slytherin second year cursed, as he slapped himself on the face.

Wait a moment... is he really insulting himself? Those thoughts would have to wait, because Nott didn't waste a single second to keep his offence going. "Glacius!" A path of ice was formed in front of him, just for him to slide over it on his knees.

Whether McLaggen saw it or not was something no one would know, because before he could do anything, Nott slid past his shield from a blind spot on its right, just to kick the hell out of the Gryffindor's leg that was supporting most of his weight. As soon as his body hit the ground, Nott was straddling him, with his wand pointing at the older boy's neck. "It's over," he announced, between ragged breaths.

There wasn't a single noise in the Great Hall; everyone had their gazes set on the stage, where the two students had put on an incredible spectacle. "I think the House of Slytherin deserves to be rewarded with, at least, fifteen points after this," Snape smirked, as he proudly clapped.

That broke the silence, with some of the Slytherins chanting at Nott. "Dear Merlin... what the hell was that," Daphne muttered. "Did you really face that monster multiple times?"

"Now you understand the way I talk about him, eh?" Ron whispered back. "But this is the first time I've seen him so serious..."

A little part of him was hurt that his only rival didn't consider him good enough to give his all during their duels; but he was also happy after seeing such a great duel from the outside. Had he been the one to face Nott, he wouldn't have been able to understand and study all the movements both of the students pulled out. I have so much to learn yet, he mentally groaned; but he was far more excited than depressed; how could he not after watching such a great battle?

"Well, that was... a great duel indeed," Lockhart announced, still looking at Nott with an open mouth. "You two should wait a bit after the meeting if you want any special tips from me—I'm not saying you aren't good at this, of course; but I'm quite knowledgeable on the matter—just in case, eh; don't feel pressured to wait now if you don't want." It was rather pathetic to see how even the Professor himself didn't seem to believe in his own words.

"This will be all for tonight," Snape said, rolling his eyes due to his colleague's spluttering. "We were planning on hosting a third duel tonight, but it seems the stage needs..., to be repaired; either way, the Headmaster didn't want the students to roam the corridors by themselves during the night, so I want each House to form a line, starting from the third year, and ending with the first. As soon as you are done, you will, in an orderly manner, walk out from the Great Hall and follow your respective prefects, who will escort you to your common room."

When the young professor ordered something, people were always very quick to obey; and nobody did it better than his own House; that was the reason why Ron found himself in the middle of a line in practically no time at all. "Is everyone here?" A third year girl asked. "Okay, let's get moving, then."

They were the first to leave the Hall, the previous mood, thanks to the incredible duel, completely forgotten; except for a certain someone, that's it. Nott was walking not far from him, looking upwards in a rather thoughtful way. "Excuse me, but I need to do something," Ron told Daphne, not waiting for a response before walking away.

"Hey, did you really slap yourself in the middle of the duel?" The redhead asked the weedy boy; it was long ago when he learned that no greetings or introductions were needed with Nott; especially, if he was in a mood like he currently was.

"Yeah, I fucked the spell up rather nicely," he answered.

"But... that spell was incredible; turning ice into little dragons? Man, that is next level shit..."

"Actually, it is rather simple; third year level transfiguration, to be precise."

"What? Do we actually learn amazing things like that next year?"

"It isn't so amazing," Nott shrugged it off, sending him a weird look. "If McLaggen hadn't been so scared to lose, he would have been able to see that my dragons' fire was rather pathetic; but whatever, it was something I've always wanted to try, and now, I know that I need to perfect it. Now, if you don't mind—not that I care if you do—I want you to leave; there are many movements I want to think about."

And just like that, the redhead was left alone in the middle of the line. Well, I guess there are things that won't ever change, he thought. At least it was an interesting night; bloody hell, I just remembered we have a double period of Herbology first thing in the morning... damn, I better sleep well tonight, then.

---

Sirius Black POV

Friday 5th December, 1992 (Romania) – Early morning

If there was something Padfoot had missed a lot, it was the incredible feeling of the grass under his paws; among many other things, of course.

A soft, cold wind ruffled his black fur, but even that was nothing but a pleasure for him—oh, how had he missed that feeling of being free—even if there were more important things on his mind, that was everything the animagus could think about right now.

"It shouldn't be far from here; do you have anything?" Gerard asked, walking by his side

The large dog let out a single bark as an answer; it was a negative response, but whether the Hunter understood him or not was something up to him.

Fuck it, how have I missed this thrill of the adventure, Sirius gloated in his mind. Thanks to Harry being at Hogwarts, he now had total freedom to move and act as he pleased; they still sent letters to each other every two weeks, of course, but it was mostly to check on him; especially, after his godson told him about the whole mess with the Chamber.

That was one of his biggest worries these days, but Sirius understood long ago that he shouldn't let worry eat him when there was nothing he could do to stop said problem; and that maybe was the reason why he felt the need to do anything in order to divert his mind from the school.

"Woah, I wasn't expecting so many people here," Gerard cursed, as he opened one of the farm's fences to get in its terrains.

It was a very large compound, and from where they stood, Sirius was able to recognise a very large barn, which seriously needed to be repainted, and a smaller house, made of a dark-brownish wood. In the space between the two structures, there were a dozen people or so; some of them were sitting at the many hay bales which were around, and others were just standing in the middle of the place with their arms crossed in front of them. But what really caught his attention were the two very large, black cars which were not far from them; yeah, they definitely were muggles.

"Can you see the man surrounded by those three berserkers?" Gerard barely whispered. "The one who is walking in circles with nervousness; well, he is the Romanian Prime Minister; a very important muggle, if you don't know what his position means."

That was something Sirius wasn't expecting.

He and Gerard had been trying to track Peter down since Sirius was recovered enough to do it—needles was to say how much of a failure all their efforts had been—but this was different; mainly, because they had been lost in the middle of a Romanian forest when Gerard was called to report for duty from the Hunter's Union; it seemed there was a very important job which needed to be done no far from him.

But dealing so openly with muggles? Wasn't that against the International Statute of Secrecy itself? From what Sirius knew, the Hunter's Union was an independent organization which often collaborated with the many Magical Ministries all over the world. That was the reason why he didn't really gave a second thought when Gerard told him about the possibility of having muggles around for his next job; but the bastard certainly forgot to mention they were going to meet with a fucking Prime Minister...

"Y-You must be the wizard assigned for our request, right?" The Minister spluttered in very rusty English. "B-Before we get into details, there are few things I need to say: firstly, I..., I don't like your kind, so it will be of the best interest if we can end the meeting as soon as possible. Secondly, you need to know all these men are part of my Secret Service, so don't even think about doing anything strange; they are part of the National Anti-Magic Unit. Thirdly, that is one hell of a dog you have there, so you better have it domesticated. And lastly, I need you to show me your Hunter's License now."

To say the man didn't like wizards—even though Sirius was sure fear was the correct word here—was to put it short; but just as he said, the other men seemed to be very collected; eyeing them in a rather normal way, but with the calm demeanour of men who knew how to act in each precise situation. If Mr Scary Minister said they were elite muggle soldiers, Sirius wasn't going to say the opposite.

"Here you have, sir," Gerard answered, handing him some kind of black and red card.

"Gerard Stokes... oh, you are a muggleborn wizard... that is nice, yes," the Minister read aloud. "Eh... what? Here it says you are a mid-tier Hunter... isn't that some kind of mistake?"

"It isn't, sir; I don't know anything about the job itself, but the Union certainly does-"

"Oh, yeah; I was the one to talk with some Lord Kovanen, wasn't it him?"

"Yeah, Lord Niklos Kovanen is the current Head of the Union," Gerard confirmed, with a lot of patience. "When a case is reported to us, Lord Kovanen himself, if the petitioner is important enough, studies the whole situation: who are the closest Hunters to the area; what kind of creatures or dangers are native to the country; the individual skills which could be needed to solve the case... Our leader is very wise and experienced; I don't want to sound rude, sir, but if he called me, it is because he believes for a mid-tier Hunter to be enough."

"Oh, that is relieving to hear, in that case... come inside of the house with me... I don't want any prying ears... just in case, of course..."

"Snuffles, sit here for a bit, my good boy," Gerard told the dog, sending him a very clear look—'you better do what I say or I'm fucked,' kind of look—and Sirius wasn't going to be the one to risk his old friend's job.

As the two men walked inside—escorted by five guards—Padfoot just laid on the soft grass, doing his best impersonation of a calm dog. Unlike that Prime Bastard, these fuckers are scary, Sirius thought, eyeing the guards who had been left inside. Their composure is perfect, and they don't seem to fear us wizards... I wonder how they would fight Gerard if they had to...

Minute after minute passed, and there wasn't any signal from the inside; Sirius wasn't worried about his friend—what could a bunch of muggles do against two good wizards like they were?—but he was starting to get tired of doing nothing. Looking up to the sky, he noticed it was a night of full moon, and his thoughts changed completely. Man, I hope Remus is doing well... that bunch of werewolves he befriended were nice blokes, but I wish that bastard had come with us... I would have stopped him like James and I used to do in the past...

Finally, he was pulled out of his mind when the house's door was suddenly opened; the muggle Minister being the one to get out first. "I don't care what methods you use, but you need to find the responsible creature as quickly as possible, okay?" The young man half asked, half ordered.

"I will give my best; that is a promise, sir," Gerard answered, not faced at all by his weird behaviour.

"Very well; you can leave this property now."

Now, that was an order, and Gerard was quick to follow it. "Come on, Snuffles, it is time to go," he said, not even waiting for the dog's response.

Brother, if you keep treating me like that, this dog is gonna rip one of your ass cheeks with one bite... The two of them, animagus and wizard, walked away from the farm; the eyes of the muggle guards still set on their backs. "Talk about creepy," the Hunter grunted. "Man, dealing with muggles is total shit."

Sirius grunted in response.

"I don't know if you are asking for more information, but whatever. Thing is when people starts going missing and muggles can't find a reasonable answer, they literally blame magic—whether it is us wizards or magical creatures wrecking havoc is something they don't care—now, most of the times, it is the Prime Minister who gets in contact with the National Department of Aurors, and they are the ones to investigate the case. But, as soon as those uniformed, lazy cunts discard the possibility of a wizard being the one to blame for everything, they just hand the case to us, Hunters; that is why most of our jobs is plague control for the Magical Ministries."

A soft rain had started to fall upon them since they got out of the farm; and Padfoot hated the feeling of walking through mud; so he just turned back into a human, not even checking if there was any muggle travelling through the same road as they were.

"Ahh, I was starting to get cramped," Sirius let out a huge yawn. "What the hell was wrong with that Minister? He shouldn't be that much of a scary mess if he is so important..."

"From what I grasped during our conversation, he is pretty new to the job; quite talented, but with zero experience," Gerard answered. "This is the first time I've ever met with one of them, though; and probably also the last. No matter the difficulty of the job, if a muggle VIP contacts us through the respective Minister for Magic of a country it is always a top-tier Hunter the one to carry out the case; but for certain reasons, there isn't anyone available right now."

"So, what were you saying about this job of yours? Because that isn't why we came here, Gerard. There isn't any other Hunter in the country who can deal with it? I'm not talking about the important ones you've just mentioned, but one in the same level as you?"

"This is how I've been making a living since the war ended, Sirius," Gerard sighed. "I love this job... it makes me feel free and alive with each mission; if I refuse to carry a case out once Lord Kovanen has assigned it to me, I'm fired; simple as that. That is why I wouldn't blame you if you were to leave me. I know finding Peter is everything you want right now, but I would appreciate your help so much..."

"Fucking cunt," Sirius cursed him. "You just have to say those pretty words of yours and it is me who looks like the bad guy if I refuse and leave you alone, eh, motherfucker? Whatever, James was just like that, so I'm pretty used to it... What is the matter here?"

"Thank you, brother," the Hunter beamed, embracing the other man with one arm. "I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't necessary, trust me."

"That bad is it?"

"I don't bloody know. From what the Prime Minister told me, the case was passed down to the aurors a few weeks ago, and they sent a pair of agents to investigate the disappearances of some muggles in the countryside."

"Sounds pretty standard to me. You said those lazy cunts referred the job to the Hunter's Union as soon as they suspected a magical beast to be the one after the problems, right?"

"Yeah, but this time is different," Gerard said. "It seems the two Aurors they sent to investigate the place have not returned; nor have they been able to contact the agents."

"That is..., quite the bad news," Sirius pointed out.

"Yeah, it is; but Lord Kovanen chose me for this job, so he must consider me and my skills to be appropriate for the job; so I'm not really worried about it."

"What a relief," Sirius snorted. "I guess if those cunts Death Eater couldn't kill me, a stupid magical creature won't be the chosen one; but, we are not starting tonight, are we?"

"Hell no," Gerard answered. "I'm tired as fuck, and I know there is a motel not far from here, so we are stating the night there and we start to work first light in the morning."

To call said place a motel was the same as comparing Azkaban with a pureblood manor—and Sirius knew what he was talking about—but even a dump like that, a wooden structure lost in the middle of a dirt road, was better than spending the night out in the cold. "Yo, since when do you know how to speak Romanian?" Sirius asked the older man, after he was finished talking with the receptionist.

"Trust me, that wasn't Romanian," Gerard snorted. "I've picked a few words here and there during all the times I had a job in this country, but it still sucks."

The Hunter had booked room number five for the two of them; and just from the outside look—a barely visible number sewed on a very eaten away door—it didn't give the best of the vibes to Sirius. "So, this is the place we are staying tonight, eh?" Sirius commented, with a dry mirth.

"It was either this, or sleeping in a tree," Gerard defended himself, as he introduced the key in the hole.

As soon as the Hunter turned the lights on, Sirius discovered the room wasn't so bad from inside; if you didn't care about a dirty floor, the many cobwebs on the corners, and the rat which was eyeing them from the windowsill. "Well, it is still better than my cell in Azkaban," Sirius said, with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Could be worse," Gerard grimaced, as he drew his wand to send a nonverbal stunner to the rat, which fell to the floor with a deaf thud. "Good night, I guess."

---

Sirius was lying on the warm grass, enjoying the nice weather by the shore of the Great Lake, when something falling into it splashed water all over him. "Eh, who was the bastard!" He exclaimed, trying to get up as fast as he could; and failing quite miserably after his foot slipped with something on the ground.

A very familiar laugh reached his ears, and his face lit up with fury. "James, you son of a-" but in the end, it didn't matter, because Sirius accepted his best friend's hand to get back on his feet.

"You should have seen your face!" James laughed, and for that, Sirius punched him in the arm with force.

"This better be the last time you do something like that to me!" He warned, but even if the boy didn't want to admit it, a faint smile was already on his face; and eye for an eye it was.

The two brothers in all but blood sat on the ground, trying to enjoy the last day of their sixth year as much as they could. "Man, I'm gonna miss all of this during the bloody summer," Sirius groaned. "I might even miss dear Snivellus, aka Mr Greasy Hair... damn, what a shitty family do I have..."

"Not long from now you will be free from them," James hummed. "What brings me to-"

"Bro, I swear I'm going to knock you out if you start talking about Lily once again..."

"Who the hell am I supposed to talk to if not you? To Peter, who can barely avoid fainting when a cute girl talks to him; or maybe to Remus, who doesn't seem to care about girls at all? Among all the Marauders you are the most successful with women; just give me some tips?"

"She's hated you since the first year, mate; and I don't see it changing anytime soon," Sirius sighed. "Every shot you take at her is gonna be a missed one, I'm telling you..."

"Sirius..."

"I know you are blinded by love and all that shit, but you need to forget about her, seriously; I think it is more probable for me to have something with Emma bloody Vanity than you with Lily..."

"Sirius..."

"Do you remember that time she wanted to cut my dick because I said she was so hot after training? Man, I really feared for little Sirius' sake that day..."

"Sirius..."

"What the hell do you want!" Sirius finally exclaimed, turning to look at his best friend.

What he found there, sitting by his side, wasn't James anymore; it was a horrible monster with humanoid form; a long, black, ripped cloak coming out from the back of his head and covering his face like an ominous veil. But what really scared the hell out of him was the putrefied hand that closed around his neck.

The creature started to grip harder and harder, the oxygen leaving his lungs, as trachea was constricted with a loud crack. That was the moment Sirius should have died, but for any reason, he was still alive; and he soon understood why.

The wrath didn't want to kill him, it wanted to devour him.

Just as its gaping, toothless mouth loomed over his, the young man woke up in the small room of the motel; his forehead completely damped on sweat, just as bed's covers were. "It was the same fucking dream as always," he gasped, still trying to regain his breath.

Since he was freed from Azkaban, there hasn't been a single night in which the Dementors didn't plagued his dreams; tonight, they've taken the form of James to trick him; just as they had already done with Lily, Remus, Regulus, and even with that traitor of Peter...

"Rough night?" The voice of Gerard startled him. The man was sitting on the windowsill, looking to the outside with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands; or so his incredible sense of smell told him. "Do you want a cup of coffee? I woke up with some spiders trying to get into my nose—I almost blew the entire room after feeling them, in fact—and there was no way I was going back to sleeping; not in this shit of a motel."

"Thanks," Sirius muttered, as he grabbed the levitating mug which was sent to him.

"Do you still have that nightmare?"

"The very fucking same."

"I'm... I'm sorry," the Hunter apologised, not meeting his gaze anymore.

"How many bloody times do I have to repeat it?" Sirius cursed, almost spilling the entire mug's content thanks to a sudden punch to the bed. "You could do nothing, and the same goes for Remus! The only culprits were those fuckers from the Wizengamot and Dumbledore... all of them looking down at me from atop of their fucking seats..."

He had done it once again. It didn't matter how hard he tried to suppress those feelings, they always came back in the worst possible moment.

Was he still hurt by how easily had Remus and other brothers-in-arms, like Gerard, believed him to be the one who betrayed the Potters? Of course he was—it was true it had been way worse back during his first weeks of freedom—but it was something that would accompany him for every single day of his life.

That was the price of ten years in Azkaban.

"We should get going," Sirius sighed, failing quite miserably at breaking the ice. "The sooner we finish this job of yours, the better for us to keep looking out for that fucking rat."

"Yeah, let's get the hell out of his damp..."

---

A few hours later...

Sirius was the first one to realise something was wrong in the forest.

It was said that animagus often retained some of the traits their animal forms had, even after turning back into human form; especially, those who shared a very special link; just like the one Padfoot and Sirius had.

It wasn't thanks to his increased sense of smell, and neither was it to the hearing. No, this was that special sense some animals, like certain breeds of canines, had; and it was telling him to get the hell out of the forest as soon as he could.

"I don't like this," Sirius grunted, as the two men crossed a not very deep brook.

"I know," Gerard answered. "Can you hear it?"

The younger wizard tried to hear whatever he was supposed to, but there was nothing. "What am I supposed to hear?"

"That is the problem," the Hunter stated with a serious voice, his wand already in his hand. "The birds' chirping; any kind of animal growling at us because we are going into their territory; hell, maybe even a muggle ranger who is doing his routine job... But there is nothing to hear."

He was right, and now Sirius was cursing himself for not being able to recognise the signals way earlier. He was a war veteran, but Azkaban had certainly fucked him in many ways. "What do we do?" He asked. "You are the expert here?"

"I don't know yet what kind of creature we are going to face," Gerard muttered back. "There shouldn't be anything too dangerous in this part of Europe—even though we know whatever it is, it took down two Aurors—but don't lower your guard..."

"You don't have to tell me that; you might be older than me, but I had more experience than you in battles..."

Their search upriver led them to a cave, which was hidden after a little waterfall. It was very short, but the entrance was big enough for the two of them to get in. The two wizards eyed the surroundings, and before Sirius realised what he was doing, Padfoot had already taken his place, going through the weak cascade with little effort; the large dog's snout quickly sniffing the fresh mud behind it.

There is a rotten smell coming from the inside; and it isn't faint at all, he thought, trying to contain the retching at the end of his throat. He turned back into his human form; partly because he couldn't resist the awful smell, and partly because he wanted to communicate with his friend. "It is here," he plainly said, and the Hunter nodded; those words were enough.

Gerard, a ball of light already at the tip of his wand, was the first one to get inside; with Sirius following him very closely. The more they descended through the narrow passage, the wider it got; just as the smell turned worse and worse with each step. "Sirius, look at this," Gerard suddenly said, pointing his wand at some strange substance in the wall.

Sirius examined the strange substance that was reeking through the wall. "It feels like some kind of cobweb," he said, after rolling some of it between his fingers. "But... it feels different." Out of a sudden, the thin string came to life and snaked down his fingers. "What the fuck?" Sirius cursed, snapping his fingers to create a spark of fire between them; completely charring the substance.

"I don't like this at all," Gerard grunted; still, he kept going down.

After thirty more seconds, the descent finally came to an end, and the two wizards found themselves in a bigger and taller chamber. "Lumos maxima," Gerard chanted, moving his wand in circles above his head. A dozen light balls were now illuminating the chamber, floating around the whole place.

Oh, they didn't know how much they were going to regret that move.

The unknown white substance was everywhere in the chamber, especially above them; but it was now snaking down the walls towards the ground, where a bunch of rotten corpses had been piled up. "What the fucking fuck is this hell..." Sirius muttered.

"This is one of those horrible situations you can find during a work day," Gerard said, his voice coming out as a barely audible whisper. "God... I want to vomit so hard..."

"Shhh," Sirius suddenly shushed him. "Can you hear that?"

"What?"

"I don't know! Shut up for a moment and let me listen."

There was the faint sound of the snaking substance, but there was something else, and it was... "K-k... ill... m-meee... ple-ple... aseee..." was that a human voice? "Ucide-mă te rog..." Whatever it was came from not far from them; from some kind of cocoon at their right.

"Yo, I think there is someone in there," Sirius whispered. "I'm gonna take a look; as soon as you see something strange, you fire your most lethal spell, okay? We aren't playing games anymore."

"Roger that."

Sirius took a few steps forward, getting closer to the cocoon. He hated to admit it, but he was scared right now; and he shouldn't be. What is wrong with you? For fuck's sake, you've duelled against Antonin freaking Dolohov; this is nothing. But it was, and he knew it. He was used to fighting other wizards to the death, but this was way different from it; and the worst part was that he had a very accurate idea of what could be inside of the cocoon.

Standing right in front of it, Sirius used a very precise Severing charm to cut the cocoon in half; it was a very superficial cut, enough to break it without damaging the insides, enough to confirm his supposition.

There was a man inside; and he was still alive.

If that could be considered as being alive, that's it. Everything above his eyes was covered by a thin layer of that damned white substance; little tendrils of it going down his face, and performing the skin of his face in various points, where the veins, of a very disgusting green colour, seemed to be about to explode. "Kill... me..." the body managed to mutter, spitting foam with each word.

"In the name of God... what the hell happened to him," Gerard whispered. "I've never seen something like this."

Sirius hadn't either, but there was a more important thought on his mind right now; he didn't know who the man was, and whether he was a good person or not; but nobody deserved to live like this.

The man needed a merciful death. "Avada Kedavra," Sirius softly said, the tip of his wand slightly grazing the man's forehead. The familiar green flash of the Killing curse lightened the chamber; but this time, none of the two wizards felt repulsed by it; this was an act of mercy, not murder for the sake of it.

"Look at his robes, see that logo sewed on the chest?" Gerard pointed out. "He was one of the Aurors who was sent to investigate the multiple disappearances."

"That means..."

"Everything under that mountain of..., whatever the hell that white substance is, are the muggles who were abducted by the creature-" A sudden noise from their left interrupted them; there was another cocoon there, and it was opening.

From it, came the other Auror, or what was left of him; a headless corpse which was being moved in a very erratic way, as if there was something pulling from him. In that dreadful instant, Sirius somehow—thanks to an absolute silence—heard how its muscles tightened; the instant after it, the creature leaped towards them with incredible speed.

But Sirius wasn't the only experienced warrior there. Gerard's wand danced in the air, thanks to some very aggressive movements from the man's wrist; the result of that were the multiple strings of light that circled the creature which was still in the air. The corpse fell to the ground, completely immobilised. "What the fuck is that thing?" Sirius asked.

"That is what I'm trying to find out," the Hunter muttered, tracing a downward line with his wand.

The strings closed around the body, slicing it in many fragments of flesh. "Look at that..." Sirius whispered. There was a large, white worm coming out from the body, trying to snake away from them; it looked so vulnerable, and yet, neither of the two wizards could destroy it because of how horrified they were.

"I don't care who the fuck your boss is," Sirius started. "But you are contacting him as soon as we get out of here."

"Don't worry about that," Gerard answered, his forehead completely damped with sweat. "I'm calling for reinforcements right now..."