Harry limped down the corridor behind the gate, only feeling burning sensation all over himself. The Bites from the snakes might have looked harmless but now it felt nothing like that. Now that he had finished the task, Harry really felt those. It wasn't just a slight sting, those bites really hurt and in some way felt like they burned. Harry stumbled forward and lost his footing but before he could hit the ground, two arms caught him.

"Dear Merlin, Lord Peverell, you look awful." Madam Pompfreys voice was close to his ear and Harry sighed in relief. He had worried there would be a second part to the task or something. Sagging in a little, Harry looked himself down and she was right. There was barely any blood but Harry could feel the bruising that formed where the snakes got him. Thank God he had worn his basilisk hide clothes, who knew what could have bee. The spot on his ankle where the first snake had bitten him into his flesh had swollen and turned an ugly colour of muddy violet. Poison probably. Only now he noticed that his vision was blurred and he had probably lost his glasses somewhere back in the arena. Swallowing hard, the boy nodded.

"'m fine." He mumbled, taking another step, but Madam Pomfrey wasn't having any of this. It felt a little weird to Harry when his legs were swept away and he floated through a side door. Inside was a simple infirmary, with four beds, surrounded by curtains.

With expertise, Harry was moved over to one of the beds and a quick switching charm changed his basilisk hide duelling robes with a soft and comfy pyjama. The medi-witch moved to the side, casting a spell when the door flew open again. Inside came quite a few people, leading them all Harry's godfather. But even he wasn't as quick as the blur of black feathers that flew over Sirius's shoulder and flung itself onto Harry.

Not noticing the pain for a moment, the boy's arms came around the phoenix form and he felt such relief swept through his boy and soul as he came into contact with his bonded partner again. Dawn rubbed herself against him in an almost desperate manner, as Harry patted her back, whispering to her.

"Hey there, yes, I know. I love you too. I'm proud of you for staying put." His words were muffled by black feathers and the last Potter buried his nose in her plumage, taking in her comforting and well-known smell. He didn't even notice that Madam Pomfrey had pulled his foot to herself and put an ointment on the swollen lump that had formed. He was completely absorbed by his dear phoenix, that he only looked up when a hand came down on his shoulder.

"Thank Merlin you are okay." Sirius said smiling down at him. Behind the man were Narcissa, Remus, Hermione, Neville and Daphne. With a soft smile, the boy nodded, while his mind still was half on the bird in his arms who was in turn snuggling against his chest.

"I'm fine. A bit sour, but that is it." He spoke warmly, reassuring his godfather. The tall man nodded, while Remus spoke up.

"I'm quite relieved that this task wasn't on the level of a dragon. That has been nuts."

All people in attendance nodded, as Madam Pomfrey wrapped his food in thick bandages, propping it up on a flooting disk.

Hermione hummed, before tilting her head. "Well, it could have been much worse had Harry not noticed the snakes splitting up. I mean, each of them doubles, that could have gone quite out of hand. I wonder what spell that was."

People started talking over each other as Remus began to explain what he believed was a modified version of the Gemini Charm, while Neille asked Harry about the dear and Sirius spoke to Madam Pomfrey, asking her on Harry's foot. It was quite noisy for a few moments.

"All right!" Madam Pomfrey clapped her hands together. "Lord Peverell needs quiet and I have to get ready for the next champion that might need my help. So all but family." She made a shooing motion towards the door, as she already turned to Sirius telling him more about Harry's condition. Neville and Hermione were the first to quickly bustling away, not wanting to stir the ire of the infamous medi-witch. Remus followed them, indenting to bring the two teenagers back to their seats. Daphne stepped closer to the bed.

"You did very well, Lord Peverell." She said, handing him a mirror. "In case you want to watch the other champions." The mirror showed the arena, apparently connected to the big screen over the judge's lodge.

With a smile, Harry nodded. "Thank you."

The blond returned the nod and reached out, brushing over Dawn's head once, before curtising to Sirius and leaving the room. The black-haired man nodded and turned back to Harry as the Medi-witch moved to the other side of the room preparing for the next patient. Narcissa gripped the curtain and pulled it around the three of them. She then stepped to the head of Harry's bed placing her hand on his shoulder rubbing slightly.

Suddenly Harry felt like there was a lump in the back of his throat as a warm feeling filled his insides. His first thought was that he might feel the poison from the ankle bite, but after blinking rapidly, he realised that it was different. He just felt so loved, with Sirius and Narcissa at his sides while Dawn cuddling close to him.

This was like having a real family. No scratch that, this was having a real family. They weren't his parents, not in a physical way, but he guessed this was what it was like having a mum and dad. A lone tear ran down his smiling face. Sirius frowned with worry.

"Is everything okay? Shall I call Poppy?"

Harry shook his head. "N-no. J-just...thank you two."

Sirius smiled and winked at the boy while Narcissa continued to rub his shoulder.

A cold wind brushed against the man's collar and he flicked it higher, blocking it out. It was not below zero, but still icey. Also a few minutes ago it had started to rain slightly, making this trip quite uncomfortable. But they had intel that Dumbledore was out here and the man was firmly in hs believe that they would get him this time.

Was Lord Crabbe worried that they were up against the most powerful wizard in living memory? Somewhat yes, it was Dumbledore after all, but on the other hand, it was an old man, they were ten people and really? Lord Crabbe wasn't one who backed out of a challenge. No, Lord Crabbe wasn't thinking what the former headmaster of Hogwarts would be capable of, no he was thinking about the reward he could get when he brought the Dark Lord his rivals head. Lord Crabbe was a simple man really. He didn't really care about blood purity, not in the way others like Malfoy or Lestrange did. He wanted food on his table, go bed with his wife at night and that was basically it. Lord Crabbe was a Death Eater because his father had been part of the Knights of Walpurgis and Lord Malfoy was one. But more than anything, it was an opportunity for him to have a decent fight.

When looking at the Lord and his son Vincent, no one would see many similarities. Where his son was wide and broad-shouldered, Lord Crabbe was slime, thin and narrow-waisted. Some people, when he had been younger, had made fun of him, said he had the body of a woman. Most of them had ended up in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, with broken bones and black eyes. They had learned that even though magic was the lifeblood of their society, some didn't need it to fight their battles.

Of course, Lord Crabbe had learned more about magic, had become quite proficient in all magic that could be used in war. Never one for the high education, he had dropped out of Hogwarts after OWL's and taken over his fathers estate. But his fighting spirit never left him and after only 2 years, he had been the physical trainer in the ministry for all the new Aurors, a job he had LOVED. Showing young man woman how to fight, breaking them and rebuilding their spirits afterwards, that had been the most wonderful time in his life. Sadly, when Bones took over from Crouch, that time had come to an end.

She never trusted him, didn't want him anywhere near her recruits. She hadn't said it to his face, but he knew his mark was the reason he had been let go. These days, Lord Crabbe had a school for magical martial arts, combining wand work with a good old hit with a fist. And his best student had been his own son. Oh, how proud he was for Vincent. Yeah, like himself, Lord Crabbe son wasn't one for book smarts. All that wasn't his. But when it came to strength and presence, oh yes, his boy did so well. And he had none of the narrow physiques of his father, Lord Crabbe and a few carefully placed potions had seen to that. Sniffing slightly, Crabbe cracked his neck, moving on. Next to him moved Lord Goyle. While Crabbe was different looking to the point that relation was questioned by some, Lord Goyle looked exactly like his son. He was a mountain of a man, with a thick neck, upper arms like other people had upper legs and a thick beard.

It was an open secret that the Crabbe family used potions to get large and muscle packed man out of their offspring. In fact, Lord Goyle had been Lord Crabbe's source for those potions. While Lord Crabbe hadn't much interest in education and his son showed that too, his massive friend was quite disappointed in his son's lack of educational interests. Lord Goyle was a very well-read man, who had done quite well at his NEWT's and was proud of it. He thought that manners mad one a man. For hours he had drilled his son to be always at his best behaviour, gave him poetry to read and educated him in the finer arts like painting and music. For the first decade of his son's life, Lord Goyle had high hopes. Sadly, when he went to Hogwarts, those hopes turned to ash. His son had become what others thought him to be, a mindless thug and there was nothing Lord Goyle could do about it because that was what Malfoy wanted out of his son. House Goyle, like House Crabbe, was in sworn service to House Malfoy for almost two hundred and fifty years now. They were one of the last sworn houses in the UK, only House Carrow and House Freetown were in the same situation.

Given their status, Lord Goyle couldn't educate his son and punish him for his lack of manners, as the Malfoy heir had stated that he needed soldiers, not an entertainer. But Lord Malfoy had promised that he would release house Goyle from their bind when his son was out of Hogwarts, so he had to play along. In fact, that was his main reason to go on this mission. If they were successful, he could ask the Dark Lord to free his house from House Malfoy. The Dark Lord had no love for the blond-haired lord and was surprisingly nice to Goyle. In fact, the Dark Lord was very much to Goyles liking. He was really well-read, knew all about manners and his vision of pulling the magical world from the savagery of the muggle world was breathtaking. Back in the day they would sit together and talk for a long time about ins and outs of old literature. Sure, lord Goyle never imagined himself equal to the Dark Lord but he thought himself a useful servant and someone the Dark Lord could talk to about things all the brutes had no time thinking about.

Lifting a handkerchief to his slightly running nose, Lord Goyle sighed. At least that had been the way it had been. Sure he had never seen himself as one of the Dark Lords inner circle, but at least valued. These days he wasn't too sure. Gone were the proud days, the feeling of following a brilliant leader into a great future. He had been under the torture curse twice in the last few months, for minor mistakes. Back in the day, the Dark Lord would give a lecture and punish only those who made big mistakes. But now? One wrong spoken word and you felt the tip of the Dark Lords wand. It was..worrying. At least he didn't get punished that often, as his intellect often helped him out, but when he looked what had become of Alecto Carrow, doubt rose in Lord Goyles mind. But the man shook his head. They had a task to do. And while would prefer to sit at home right now, reading MacBorger with a nice glass of red wine, Lord Goyle was a man of focus. And right now his focus was on the small shack that showed in the light before them. He raised his hand. Behind him and his friend, Lord Crabbe were six other Death Eater. After seven assassins that hadn't returned, the Dark Lord thought they should go out in bigger numbers. No matter Dumbeldores power, eight wands firing at him, were eight wands. But still, he couldn't ignore the fact that none were one of the big names in their cause.

Crabbe started talking still staring ahead at the shack.

"All right you guys, we go in there, take him by surprise. Teller, Penn, you take two of the others and circle the shack, move to the back. All right?"

They got murmurs of responses, before the four man snug away into the undergrowth. Crabbe nodded towards Goyle, both holding their wands. The five remaining men slid out of the brushes and moved in on the shack. It was a rundown, sad-looking hovel, with a slanted roof and dirty windows. Moving quickly, they hastened over the open space between the brushes and the shack. Pushing himself against the wall next to a window, Lord Goyle peeked around the corner. Damn, the windows were so dirty there was nothing they could see inside. Pointing at the door and making a fist, Lord Crabbe held up three fingers.

Then two.

Then one.

"Bombarda!" He cried, exploding the door out of its hinges inward. In only two seconds, they all filed into the house. A simple bed. A stove made from cast iron. A table and a chair. On the floor a simple rug. Nothing else. The other door was kicked in, revealing Penn, Teller and the other two there. They looked around.

"Nobody here? Damn, was the tip wrong?" Penn said, looking at the few pieces of furniture. "Damn, the Dark Lord will not be-"

"Shhhhh!" Lord Goyle said, placing his finger over his lips. His eyes were trained on the rug. Slowly and carefully, he flipped his wand and the rug pulled itself back, revealing a rusty trapdoor. Methodically, he waved his wand over the thing before blinking.

"There is no magic in it." He muttered, pulling his wand back.

Crabbe reached out but the wide Lord Goyle reached out, grabbing his wrist.

"I don't like this."

Crabbe laughed shaking his head. "You are too careful."

Goyle shook his head. "This is Dumbledore, after all, there has to be a trick, somewhere."

Crabbe snorted, standing straight and turning to his friend. "He is an old man and slipping for years."

Squinting, Goyle looked around the shack. "But he is still Dumbledore. Even the Dark Lord is af-"

"DON'T finish that sentence." Crabbe cut him off looking meaningful at the others in the shack. "All right, we will be extra careful when we go on okay?"

Goyle nodded and slowly Crabbe reached out, grasping the handle of the trapdoor. Nothing happened. No spear shoot out of the walls, no fire came nothing.

Crabbe grinned as his head turned. "See nothing to be worri...ed...about...Wait! Where is Penn?" The heads of all people turned around and they stared into the corner, where the short man had stood, but there was no one there.

Teller moved to the spot. "He was just here! Where did he go?" He looked onto the floor and the walls. "I mean we at least would have heard something don't you think? I didn't feel anything."

One of the men stepped up. "Maybe he went outside." With those words, the man walked over to the door and pulling it open.

Goyle raised his hand "WAIT!" But it was too late, the man had stepped outside. Hastening to the door, the wide Lord stared outside, feeling his insides to freeze. The man who just had stepped out was nowhere to be seen. Neither were the muddy clearing of the forest behind it. Instead, there was only darkness on the other side of the threshold, like dark ink.

"Merlin damn." He whispered out as he turned to the room full of people. His eyes widened, even more, when he noticed that Teller and one of the other people that had come with them were gone too. Instead of them being eight, they were down to four. Lord Crabbe stepped up to him.

"We have to move on." The thin man said, lifting his wand.

Goyle gaped at his friend. "Are you crazy? He is picking us off one by one, we haven't even seen him and you want to go on as nothing happened? We have to get out of here! He has the advantage."

Crabbe looked him evenly in the eye, shaking his head. "You want to go back? Tell the Dark Lord we lost comrades and have nothing to show for it? Good luck with that, I try my luck here."

Goyle blinked. It was true. The Dark Lord wouldn't be kind to such failure. He would punish or maybe even kill them, given his recent attitude. Nodding, he straightened his back. "All right, you are right. But what do we do? We are in his net, we four have to find a way to get past all this and go-"

"Three." One of the men said. Goyle took a doubletake. He wasn't used to being interrupted by commoners and turned his angry gaze at the man, who was standing in one corner, carelessly looking out the window.

"What?" Goyle bit out.

The man turned his head, smiling at him from under half-moon glasses. Where a moment ago had stood a short, plum looking man, now was an old man with a long beard and colourful robes. "There are only the three of us now Mr Goyle." Albus Dumbledore said as he smiled at them with a warm and comforting smile.

Both lords froze for a second before pointing their wands at the old man. Dumbledores smile didn't falter as he winked at them and both wands flew from their hands. Goyle and Crabbe's mouths dropped open. Not even a hand gesture, nothing. Dumbledore just ripped the wands from their hands without moving.

"How,...what?" Crabbe blurred out dumbly, staring at Dumbeldore, while he slowly felt the cold fingers of terror claw at his mind.

Dumbledore smiled, shaking his head. "How I got in here? I came in with you of course."

Goyle blinked, frowning. "When d-did you take one of their places?"

Dumbledores smile didn't change as he tilted his head slightly. "From the start of course."

Crabbe frowned, moving slowly closer. "When we came over the wardline?"

That made the old man laugh as he shook his head. "No, no. When you fine gentlemen met up in Nottingham of course."

Goyle felt cold sweat run down the back of his neck. "But how did you know that we..." His voice trailed off.

Again Dumbledore laughed lighthearted. "Well, you young men did very well at hiding those plans, but really? It is that little mark on your arm that gives you away."

Crabbe and Goyle froze. Did Dumbledore know the magic behind the dark mark? Knew to use it to his advantage? The two men looked at each other. The dark Lord needed to know that. With a slight nod, Crabbe moved his foot a little closer to Dumbledore. They both had fought together so often they knew what to do, understood each other like brothers. Crabbe would hold the old headmaster off as long as he could while Goyle tried to flee. So both strengthened their resolve while Goyle silently thanked his friend for his sacrifice.

But when he tried turning on the spot, hie feet wouldn't move. He was just frozen in place, just like his friend.

"Now now, who would want to leave now? Dear me, without saying goodbye. That's not nice. Not nice indeed."

Light reflected from Halfmoon glasses and Goyle wanted to scream but nothing came over his lips.

Harry set down the mirror for a moment, sighing. Akiko had just finished her run through the arena, as the last champion. Her task had been to clear out a large stable of Abraxane winged horse. It had been over fairly quickly. The moment, the girl had stepped into the arena, she had seen the stable, the river at the side of the arena and had gone to work. It was obvious that she had read the legends about Hercules and how he had gone about his task, replicating it with ease. It was almost comical how little problem she had, showing that preparation was key in this task. Whatever hidden dangers had been in the arena had been rendered useless as she was so quick, nothing much mattered.

What happened if you weren't prepared had been shown by Cassius Warrington before her. His task had been catching a large black boar, obviously a callback to the Erymanthian Boar. But even though there were 'weather zones' in the arena, with a beach, snow, forest and a dessert, Cassius had whipped out his wand and quite brutally cut off the boars legs after a few minutes of chasing the boar with no luck. And while yes, it was effective, it was still bitter and brutal and he had been docked quite a few points for that.

Ulrich's challenge had been stealing three apples from a tree, protected by nymphes. It had taken him quite some time as he went into confidant at the beginning and had to retreat after being burned by the nymphes, but in the end he had managed. His hadn't gotten the most stellar judging but he was in the middle. Right now Akiko was leading by a large margin, followed by Harry and Ulrich, while Cassius was now last, due to his massive points loss in the second task. Harry had heard him complain quite a bit when he came into the infirmary, even though he was cut off when the screen was pulled around his bed.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked. Harry's godfather had sat on the edge of his bed, playing with Dawn, who had in turn taken a while to leave Harry's direct body contact.

"Yeah, it...it's nothing really." Harry said looking off into the distance. Sirius sat more straight and lifted Dawn back into his lap.

"All right. Talk to me. What is bothering you?" The black-haired man said, looking at his godson.

"I...Well, it just feels weird. Voldemort is somewhere out there and I am here, just sitting around like nothing had happened and that I didn't need to do something."

Sirius smile slowly faded from his face as he nodded. "And rightly so. Harry. Listen to me. It is not your job to fight Voldemort. Never was and never will be."

The green-eyed boy looked over to his godfather while dawn settled down in his lap and snuggled close. "Is it not? I feel like it is."

Shaking his head, Sirius scooted closer. "No. It 's the job of the adults around you to handle this situation. Your job is just to grow up and go to school."

Harry frowned. "That wasn't the case since my first year and you know it. Sirius, he is after me, I have to be prepared. I don't want to sit by and do nothing."

Sirius opened his mouth ready to say something but closed it again. His first instinct was to say no. Harry was a teenager, after all, he wasn't supposed to fight the Dark Lord. He was to stay safe. But while he wanted to say it, he knew it wasn' right. Harry was the focus of the Dark Lord and he would need to be capable to defend himself.

Slowly nodding the Lord of Black rubbed over his godson's shoulder. "I will talk with Minnie about Remus teaching you. So you know how to defend yourself really. We will see from there, okay?"

"Okay."

The last whisper escaped the lips of the man, then hie stilled. But it was the most important whisper in his life. His eyes still looked out, but they seemed to stare into nothing. Cold orbs of flesh, without a trace of life in them. Another set of eyes, this bright red, leaned closer looking deep into the man's dead eyes. The Dark Lord, feared by all of Britain, licked his lips as he watched the life flee from the gaze of the man. It had taken some time, but finally, he had found what he wanted to know.

The man lying in front of his feet was Jonathan Kees, a simple ministry worker. Or at least it seemed that way. He worked in the department for magical transportation and even there in the middle of the career ladder. No special post, no extraordinary position nothing. Just one of many workers in the Ministry, with a normal life, a normal family and a normal future.

But there was something in his life. Something special. All of his life was a facade. His job, his family, even his pet had been chosen so it wouldn't stick out. So he could be unknown, hiding inside the masses better than behind war-wards. It wasn't because Jonathan had a rare talent, it wasn't because Jonathan was a genius or anything.

No, he simply knew something. One detail that the Ministry tried to protect with all their might, information so important it had been hidden behind Fidelius for almost six hundred years. Jonathan was the last in a long line of secret-keeper, who handed down the kept secret from one to the other. An unbroken link of secrecy and careful planning that was only done for this one simple piece of knowledge.

Unbroken until this day. The Fidelius Charm is a complex and quite esoteric piece of magic. Much of it is unknown. But there are a few key facts about it. One, the secret can only be given willingly. No matter how proficient someone is in Legilimency is, it can't be stolen from the mind of anyone. Viritaserum will not be able to get the information out of a keeper. Second, while it is powerful, it has it's catches. A secret-keeper can only ever only hold one secret. No two secrets have ever been bound to a single keeper. Also, the spell can only be used by very powerful wizards and witches as it changes the world itself. Finally, the spell didn't work well with other spells. Simple spells worked around a Fidelius but more complex magic would be a problem. Complex wards, strong magical artefacts and so one couldn't be hidden behind this.

There was one exception, at least the Dark Lord thought there was one. When he had been younger, Tom Riddle had worked out that back in the day, when the Statue of Secrecy had been placed in the world, a modified version of the Fidelius charm had been placed, with all of Wizardkind as the secret-keeper. It was hard to explain as it has been said before, the Fidelius Charm is not really understood, but given the amount of changes and the nature of the SoS, Voldemort was pretty sure it was a close relative of the Fidelius Charm. He had wondered what amount of power would be needed to cast such an enormous spell that span the globe and centuries and concluded that the even that had been called the spell plague when hundredth of Wizards and Witches suddenly died right about the same time as the SoS had been set in place was linked to the erection of this spell. They had probably willingly or unwillingly given their magic and life to fuel the biggest feat of magical prowess that had ever taken place on this earth. And to think all that was done to do an act of shame, to force Wizardkind into hiding, it angered the Dark Lord. He would change that, would break the spell that kept them in shackles, rise to the top and rule over a new world.

And it would all begin with this simple piece of information. Yes, you can't force someone to tell you the secret. But you can torture someone for so long that they are willing to give you the information because they are willing. Even better, it is possible for a secret-keeper to hand over the secret, making someone new the keeper.

That was what had happened here. IT had taken only half an hour of his work but finally, Lord Voldemort knew what he needed to know. Standing more straight he turned to his followers, who waited around the room.

One of them stepped forward, kneeling before the Dark Lord. Voldemort frowned a little. That wasn't one of his inner circle. But then again, of his inner circle, none was here. Dolohov, Crouch and Rookwood were still in Azkaban, Severus was missing and Bellatrix was away on a mission to get the german Wizarding SS into the fold. The Dark Lord would need to raid the prison to get his strongest. And he would have to do it fast. Kees absences would be noticed soon. And once someone knew what was up, the security around key locations would be strengthened. Better to step onto the scene with fanfares than being caught out like a common thief. Voldemort knew, the time he could hide his resurrection was almost over, but now all key places were in place.

He turned his eyes to Lucius Malfoy, the man kneeling in front of him.

"Is it done, my lord?" He blond whispered.

For once the Dark Lord smiled at the blond man. "Yes, the secret is mine. Now, have you readied to free our brothers and sisters from Azkaban?"

Lucius licked his limps nodding. "Yes, my lord. I influenced the rotation of the guards so most of them would be ours tomorrow. We will be-"

"Good. You have done well, Lucius, I would never imagine. If everything goes according to plan, you will be rewarded. But if not..." The Dark Lords voice trailed off into a menacing silence.

"Thank you, my lord."

Voldemort smiled, turning to the other kneeling people, ignoring the blond in front of him. "Wonderful, everything is exactly as I planned. We will raid Azkaban prison, showing them that their fortress means nothing. And then, I will use the secret that I learned here today and not even the high and mighty Albus Dumbeldore will be able to stop me."

His smile widened cruely. "Not after we opened Merlin's grave!"

Chapter done, not much I want to talk about.

Sorry, it took so long, I notice serious writer's block at the moment. But I think I can say we are moving in on the home stretch now. I can't say for sure but there aren't All that super many plot points left anymore.

I know Sirius kind of caved quite quickly but I feel like he needs it right now.

Albus playing with the DE is so fun to write I can't tell you. I just want to write more of that and love to expand third row characters.

Well like I said not much I want to say here, I hope you liked this chapter.