Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

Harry Potter And The Game of Death

Level 1

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Before the Duel

Lucius Malfoy stared intently as he watched Draco run through a drill.

The young boy stood in a circle of white stones as thirteen crystal orbs floated around him.

Designed to test a wizard's speed and reaction time, the goal was to knock the orbs down. They would weave patterns whose speed and complexity depended on the level of difficulty, and only spells from corresponding schools of magic could be used to deactivate them, the key to which was the orb's current colour. While using a spell from the wrong school would elicit a wide variety of different reactions.

To say that Draco was performing poorly, though, would be an understatement.

Thus far, Lucius had seen nearly every single one of those different reactions since his son had started the drill. The boy used Charms when he should have used Hexes; Transfiguration when he should have used Charms; and even a foolish Curse had lanced out when a Disarming spell had been the correct choice. All of which gave Lucius no small amount of consternation, as the only positive aspect he could see was how the boy's spells were currently hitting with the force and speed of an average adult's.

Eyeing his son and heir over steepled fingers, Lucius compared the showing to what his informants had told him of Potter's exploits in the Cup's duelling tent.

The conclusion he reached was not a pleasant one.

Unless things changed drastically then Potter would defeat his son. It would not even be close. And should that come to be, it would stain the honour of House Malfoy, put a dent in his political future, and most probably damage Draco's own future as a viable leader amongst their Pureblooded brethren.

Of course, it was always possible the Potter boy could suffer an accident prior to the match, but Lucius' resources in that area were all but tapped out after having been employed against the backup members of several Quidditch teams in the Cup. And sadly, not even the Dark ritual Lucius had conducted to empower his son would enable Draco to overcome Potter's mind-boggling increase in ability.

How that had happened, exactly, was a mystery that was under investigation.

As he watched Draco continue to flail, Lucius carefully considered whether he should employ his final option. The pros and cons of the move flashed through his mind as he weighed its worth.

With a languid wave of his wand, Lucius made his decision and brought the training session to an end.

Ding!

Mandatory Quest Alert Notification

The "Beat the Brat" Quest has been Changed to "Defeat the Cheat"

Lucius Malfoy has Employed a Way to Cheat During your Duel Against his Son

Now Ties in with the 'Attack on the World Cup' Quest

Defeat Draco or the One Controlling Him to Complete the Quest

Quest Reward:

10 Levels

Mystery Reward for Achieving Either a Perfect or Excellent Quest Completion

"Bloody hell!" Harry swore aloud as the Game's notification popped up while he was in the middle of dodging a Bludger.

The distraction proved a costly one when the piece of enchanted iron slammed into Harry's shoulder. It hit with enough velocity to spin him around mid-air and force Harry to battle for control of his broom, all while the insistent dings of an unread Game notification blared in his head.

By the time Harry managed to arrest his momentum, he was so close to the ground that he decided to float the rest of the way down. The instant his toes touched grass, he slipped off his broom and flopped.

"Ach! Cap'n, I think th' lad needs a break. That Bludger nary would o' hit 'im if th' lad had been concentrat'n. We've been pushin 'im hard all mornin'." Alistair's voice sounded from above Harry's head; as the likely culprit to have hit the Bludger, he had probably been close by. "Besides, th' lad has a big duel innae few hours. There's no need ta bruise him too badly beforehand."

Captain Bronwen gave a sigh as she flew into Harry's sight. "You're right Alistair. And when you're right, you're right. The rest of practice can be devoted to honing our Chaser formations and running scoring drills."

The burly woman swivelled on her broom to give Harry a curt nod. "Alright Harry, you've done enough for today. Pack up your things and get on home so you can rest up. Make sure to win it too; I don't want any rumours flying around that you're a second-rate wizard who can't beat some Pureblood fop. Not when I know better, y'hear?"

"Aye aye, captain."

A feeling of immense gratitude welled up from within him as Harry nodded from his spot sprawled along the ground. That last Bludger hit had done a number on him, and he could really use some rest before his duel. Especially if the Game's latest notification meant what he suspected.

"Good. Alistair, with me. I've a few ideas for the Chaser drills I want to run by you before we get started."

Left alone for a blissfully free moment as the two flew off, Harry was finally able to select the Game's notification. A quick tap ended the constant dings and allowed him to study the Game's most recent quest in greater detail.

From the wording of the quest Harry gathered that someone, whether it was Lucius or one of the man's cronies, would be controlling Draco during the duel. That might cause a problem, since whomever was chosen would probably be an expert duellist with far more experience than Harry.

But Harry had confidence in himself. He had grown in both power and skill over the summer, to the point where there was no way that even an expert could manage to overcome the stat difference which lay between himself and Draco. Just like how a Firebolt would always beat a Cleansweeper in a dead heat, Harry's newfound strength would bury Draco's pathetic abilities.

Besides, Lucius Malfoy not playing fair was anything but new. Harry and the others had already anticipated as much and had taken precautions, setting up plan after backup plan just in case their first one did not work out. So despite the quest's somewhat sinister wording and increased reward, Harry put it to the back of his mind.

After resting for a few more minutes Harry hopped back onto his broom and made his way over to the team's facilities. There he took a blistering hot shower that rid his body of the remaining aches that practice had given him and changed into a fresh pair of stylish green and gold wizard robes. After which Harry emerged from the facility and made his way over to where Andromeda stood waiting to take him home.

Dora growled to herself as she stalked around the duelling tent. Remus and Sirius had asked her to patrol the area and look out for anything suspicious while the two of them went over the Duelling Ring with a fine-toothed comb. Her status as an Auror trainee, combined with Remus' status as a Hogwarts professor, had allowed them to do some checks on the ring's protections before the duel started.

But professional courtesy only went so far, and even now there were several people from the duelling emporium watching their every action. It was Dora's job to keep an eye on them and anyone else who appeared while Remus and Sirius did their work.

But being back in the tent so soon after her battles against the French tart was like rubbing salt on an open wound. Her seething fury at having lost to that strumpet of a girl was in serious danger of boiling over; not even the two following victories and several days' time to move on had been enough to dull the memory.

"Oh, hey darling, look at what Remus is doing! I've never seen someone use Nordic runic structures in conjunction with Charms like that; rather than setting them side by side, or entwining them, he's overlaying them on top of one another. I'll bet it doubles or triples the efficiency of the entire structure when compared to the more traditional methods."

Hestia's bubbly tone rattled through Dora's head as the busty girl skipped alongside her.

Wearing a high collared shirt to hide the hickies Dora had left on her earlier, Hestia's eyes roved around the tent as she observed everything in good humour. "Do you think it's something we can bring up to Kingsley or Moody next time we're at HQ? I'd bet they'd be interested given how outdated some of the Ministry's approved methods are."

Dora shot her lover a glare and kept her mouth firmly shut. One of her mother's oft repeated refrains had been that unless you had something nice to say, it was better to say nothing at all. And though Dora generally liked to thumb her nose at anything that even remotely smacked of upper crust nonsense, in this case she was doing her level best to adhere to her mother's advice.

Hestia, however, seemed to have missed the memo.

"Awwww, c'mon honey, are you still sulking about not being able to match Harry's record?" The big breasted woman gently nudged her lover's arm. "Don't. After all, you beat that scrumptious little tart till she vomited all over herself. By the time you were finished with her in that third match, the girl looked as though she'd tried and failed to fight off a charging Hippogryph with her bare hands."

Hestia's words poked Dora's sore spot with all the gentleness of a Giant poking a soufflé. It made her back straighten and her muscles tense further as anger bubbled deep within her heart.

"That doesn't make me feel any better, Hestia!" Dora spat out. "Not even a bit!"

"Then what about all the sex we've had over the last few days?" Hestia inquired. The woman's big, watery eyes stared at her in confusion. "Did that help? We didn't stop until well past midnight that first night. Not to mention the rest of the time; I wouldn't be surprised if my arse has the imprint of your hand permanently seared into it."

A little of Dora's tension faded away upon hearing those words. Hestia had been wonderfully enthusiastic the past few days, while Dora had possessed more stamina than she could ever recall herself possessing.

But not even ploughing the raven-haired woman into the sheets in screaming orgasm after screaming orgasm had been enough to quell the unbridled anger which continued to dwell inside Dora's heart.

Every fibre of Dora's being was angry. Angry at the French girl for successfully taunting her. Angry at Hestia for blatantly flirting with the girl in the middle of their duel. Angry at herself for being overconfident and not taking her opponent seriously. The latter of which made her even angrier since Dora knew how disappointed Moody would be in her if he ever found out; the old man took constant vigilance to an extreme, and Dora's loss to the French girl had been a direct result of not following his advice.

This state was familiar to her from long experience and was supposedly a family thing. One which, according to her mother, was especially common amongst Black women. With the prime example being Dora's crazy aunt, Bellatrix, whose competitive and vengeful streaks had been so wide that the woman would spend months taking a slow, steady vengeance upon any whom she felt had wronged her.

But Dora did not mention any of that to her lover. All she did was give a simple, grunted reply. "It did help. A little."

Hestia stopped and stared at Dora in open-mouthed shock. "Seriously?"

"Yes. Seriously." Dora stated in clipped tones. She said what she meant and meant what she said. Just because she liked to play the fool at times did not mean otherwise.

"Wow. Just… wow. That sort of hurts, you know?" Hestia did look hurt. The woman's face was scrunched up and she was looking at Dora with wondering eyes. "And if it wasn't making you feel any better, then why did you make love to me for so long?"

Dora gave a harsh snort. "Because it felt good. And when I held you in my arms, I could forget about my anger."

"Really?"

"Yes. Really."

That reply seemed to take the wind out of the other woman's sails. "Oh." Hestia replied listlessly. Her shoulders sagged a bit while her luscious lips pulled into a taut frown. "I see."

Dora shot her girlfriend a questioning look. Those words, said in that manner, rarely meant anything good when coming from a woman. Any woman, herself included. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I finally understand why you wanted to be Mad Eye's apprentice so badly. And why Mad Eye accepted you after he turned everyone else down." Hestia raised her head to look Dora square in the eye. "The two of you are broken in the same way. And I doubt that either one of you can ever be fixed."

High up in the air, Wormtail skittered along a wooden beam in his rat form. His sharp claws dug into the wood, allowing him to scrabble and climb to places no normal magic user could reach without using some sort of tool or flashy spell. He eventually came to a halt when he reached a vantage point from which he could observe the coming event and record it for his Lord and Master.

Pensieves could be such useful tools, and Wormtail had been elated to have obtained one in a recent foray. Since with a Pensieve at their disposal the Dark Lord would no longer need to rip information from Wormtail's mind.

After looking around at the people below and finding no immediate threats, Wormtail settled in to watch his former friends.

Remus and Sirius were pouring over the Emporium's floating Duelling Ring, the tips of their wands flashing as they cast silent spells and scribbled down sequences of Ancient Runes. From the looks of it the pair were attempting to determine whether Lucius had placed any traps in or around the ring.

It was a good idea. But one which would ultimately prove fruitless. Thanks to a few trips to the fool's manor in his favoured disguise, Wormtail was familiar the details of Lucius' plan and knew it did not rely on anything so difficult as sneaking a spell past the duelling Emporium's strict wards. For all his many faults, the man knew how to lay a scheme. And for all their many strengths, Remus and Sirius had never been the best when it came to unravelling such schemes.

It was a classic case of two Gryffindors playing a game of cards against a Slytherin. The Gryffindors might get lucky and gather winning hand after winning hand, but they would fall for so many bluffs and feints that they usually ended up losing more than they won.

Still, watching them waste their efforts was as good a way as any for Wormtail to pass the time. So the transformed Animagus rested his head upon his front paws as his beady little eyes followed their every movement. Categorizing them for future use, too, since even the most innocuous of data could ultimately prove useful.

"WHAT?"

Dora's furious shriek caused Sirius to jump into the air. He looked over to where his younger cousin stood with her girlfriend, fearing that one of them had triggered some Dark spell in the middle of their own search.

But upon seeing the expressions on their faces Sirius immediately turned his head and looked away. There was no Dark magic at work. Of that Sirius was absolutely certain.

No, the alarm bells currently ringing in his head were warning of a completely different danger. One that no number of spells or Potions could save Sirius from weathering if he stayed in his current position.

After a quick look at his work to double check that his task was complete, Sirius made his way out of the danger zone as speedily as was humanly possible. He power walked over to the far side of the floating stone ring where Remus was finishing up his own work.

When he made it to Remus' position, out of sight and on the far side of the tent from the two women, Sirius cleared his throat and tried to engage the werewolf in conversation. "So, mate, how goes it over here?"

Remus shot Sirius a dour look before resuming his work. "I'm nearly done, actually. Just finishing the final bit of spellwork now. Though I see you remain as lion-hearted in the face of a woman's wrath as ever, you damn coward."

Sirius glowered at having been seen through so easily. "Hey! I'll have you know that running away in this sort of situation is a time-honoured tradition. One that has allowed the males of our species to survive what anyone with even a lick of common sense would term 'mortal peril'. So don't you dare knock it!"

"Uh huh. And what happens after you return from running away?"

"If it's not directed at me, like right now?" Sirius thought the question over carefully. "Generally nothing. Which is why I'm waiting here for it to blow over."

"Riiiiiiight," Remus drawled. "Well, your gallantry in the face of feminine danger aside, I think I'm done here. Let's go over to Dora's area and finish things up. Andromeda just messaged that she and Harry have returned to the Cottage ahead of schedule and I would like to have things wrapped up on our end before they arrive."

Turning his head to look around as they walked, Sirius saw that the two ladies had gone off to a secluded corner.

In the time since he had last seen them Dora's face had reddened quite a bit. Meanwhile, Hestia's expression looked increasingly stony, and the dark-haired woman had crossed both arms under her enormous breasts. All of which only made the warning bells ring ever louder within the back of Sirius' brain.

Nope. No way. He was not going near that area even if Dumbledore himself were to ask. Not when Dora was doing her best impression of an angry Lily, down to the flashing green eyes and flame red hair.

With his life on the line, Sirius turned to Remus and pulled out his greatest weapon. One that had rarely failed to succeed since the day they had first met so many years ago.

Puppy Dog Eyes.

Remus took one look at Sirius' expression and rolled his eyes in return. "Dammit man, stop that! This is why you're utter rubbish when it comes to having a steady relationship. What're you going to do when Harry and Hermione finally get together and the boy comes to you for relationship advice? Tell him to fuck the girl into a mind-numbing haze of pleasure when she's sad and to run away when she's mad?"

Sirius broke his Puppy Dog Eyes assault to nod vigorously. "Damn straight I will. Don't knock my brilliant methods just because your own are lacking. I gave that same advice to James and look at how well it turned out for him!"

"Nice try, Padfoot. We both know that Lily was usually the one dragging James into the bedroom and not the other way around," Remus pointed out much to Sirius' chagrin. In his haste to prove his point, Sirius had forgotten about that little titbit of relevant information. "And while James probably could have escaped from her if they were to ever fight with wands, the man had enough sense to know that getting to that point would have permanently ended things between them. So your advice fails on both counts."

"Then what about his relationships with Morwena, Isabella, Felicienne and Bellatrix? Huh? If not for my advice with them, James would never have survived to so much as date Lily!"

"None of them – especially that disastrous attempt with Bellatrix – had so much as a snowballs chance in hell of surviving in the first place. Any advice other than 'never go near any of them' was flawed from the beginning. Which brings me back to my initial point," the man said with a growl, "which is that your advice, when it comes to romantic relationships – of any sort – is pants!"

"Now you're just being jealous, Moony," Sirius said as he gesticulated wildly.

From the clear annoyance in the other man's voice during that last response, Remus was close to cracking. Which in turn meant that the more outrageous Sirius acted, the more likely he was to escape the storm of feminine wrath building nearby. "Bellatrix might've had a few screws loose even back then, but she was hot, and a total firecracker in bed from what James told me. And a guy can forgive a lot when a girl is willing to do the things she did for James."

"Maybe so, but you weren't the one who had to hide James in an abandoned classroom when he was running away from her through the castle's hallways stark naked and half-covered in candle wax!"

"Don't over exaggerate. From what I heard it was only James' chest and shoulders that had the candle wax on it. His lower half was completely fine except for his arse."

"That's not my point, you moronic nitwit!" Remus roared as he grabbed Sirius' collar and shook him violently. "And while we're at it, guess who I ran into on the first day of the Cup? Right after you made off to Bagman's office, no less."

Uh oh. Sensing that what was to come could be just as dangerous in its own way as what was going on with Dora, Sirius chose his words carefully. "Erm, was it Dedalus?"

"No. It was Rita Skeeter. Who, I might add, seems to be angling for a repeat of that night the year after we graduated from Hogwarts."

Oh, bugger. That woman was by far the worst mistake Sirius had ever made in his dating career. The woman's future skills as a reporter had been on full display when, after a month spent dodging her, she managed to track down every single one of his hideaways and lay into him with the fury of a woman scorned.

But if she was sniffing around as it were, why had Remus waited so long to mention it? "Hey, uh, buddy, I'm sorry you had to deal with her… but why didn't you tell me about it before? That was almost a month ago, so you had loads of time to tell me about it."

"You're right. I did have loads. But during our meeting she passed me some information about the upcoming tournament at Hogwarts. I've been mailing my fellow teachers about it and a few contacts I still have abroad to confirm it…and when I got confirmation of the final bit last night, trust me when I say it wasn't good."

Sirius' body stiffened as he turned serious. "Tell me."

"I will, but later. Worrying over it will be for naught if we don't do our work, and do it well, today."

"Fine. But I still wish you'd have mentioned it to me sooner, old friend."

"And send you into a spiral of worry? Fat chance," Remus replied with a snort before switching subjects. "Besides, I'd have thought you would have welcomed her pursuit, what with your enjoyment of 'wildcats' and all.

"Erm, no. She kept things interesting in the sack, but all that baggage she's got? No way in hell do I want to board that crazy train for a second time." Sirius gave a shudder. "You know, given all the crap that's appearing left and right these days, I sure hope that Harry's love life doesn't turn dangerous as well. The poor boy's hopeless with women and might not know he was chasing a bad one until it was too late."

"Thankfully he has Hermione with him. And given the way she looked at the boy, I doubt Harry will have much trouble with terrible women."

Ah. Now that was a fair point. The best defence against a crazy woman was a determined woman with her head on straight. And Hermione fit that description to a 'T' from what little Sirius had seen of the girl last year.

But she had yet to return. Which meant that, for now, it was up to Sirius to guide the boy right. And make sure that be it against Dark Wizards or crazed ladies alike, the boy was kept safe from all comers.

"Hermione! Come along, sweety. We'll miss our flight if we don't hurry!"

Hermione raised her head from the massive book held open in her lap. "I'm coming mum! Just, give me a moment. I'm in the middle of a passage."

Dropping her head back down, Hermione found her place back on the page and stared at it with rapt attention.

"When speaking of the Chosen Ones it is vital to know the source of their power. Those who receive gifts from the same deity often exhibit similar behaviour to one another and seem to possess many of the same strengths and weaknesses, as is perhaps best exemplified by Athena's gifts to Socrates and Heraclitus. It is this scholar's belief that a study of those who came before could help guide any future Chosen Ones from making the same mistakes as their predecessors, and in so doing spare the lives of many who would otherwise be hewn like wheat at the harvest."

Grim as the ending of it might be, Hermione felt somewhat cheered by the paragraph's beginning. The author, one of the few women in the pile of books given to her by the Headmaster, seemed to have been connected to one of the 'Chosen Ones' as she termed those like Harry. And if she had followed up on her own words, then perhaps not only would Hermione find some way to protect Harry, but also a clue on how to better win his heart in the process.

It was about damn time one of these books had something positive in it. Because up till now they had been filled with tales so grim that Hermione had experienced more than a few nightmares.

"Hermione Jean Granger! The aeroplane will not wait for your studies. You can finish reading your book on the flight over the channel. Now come along; your father is already standing in line and waiting for us to join him."

Grumbling at her mother's stern command, Hermione did as she was told. She placed a bookmark on the page and closed the volume with a heavy thud. Hermione then placed the Greek Grimoire into an expandable satchel she had purchased while in France and stood to join her parents in the queue.

Not for the first time did Hermione wish she could travel by magic. But no, such a convenient tool was not available to her. As the haughty Ministry witch had told her when Hermione's parents had taken her to Diagon Alley before the summer trip had begun, Ministry approved magical travel was forbidden to all Muggles, regardless of whether they had a witch or wizard in the family. The incident had infuriated Hermione as the policy reeked of both spite and wilful ignorance of that which the Ministry did not understand.

Honestly, there were times when Hermione half-wondered what might happen if the world's entire population of non-magic users were to someday disappear. Would the wizard's and witches of the world celebrate? Would they be horrified? Or would the entire community merely give a collective shrug of indifference?

Knowing British magical society as she did, the reaction would probably depend on the manner of their disappearance. With anything less than a thermonuclear apocalypse probably being labelled as a 'Muggle only' problem.

Grim thoughts such as those had been growing of late within Hermione. But she pushed them to the side and focused on what was to come. Particularly how she would soon see the boy she loved.

God only knew what sort of mess he had gotten get himself into without her there to keep him safe. Because while she liked Sirius from the faint impression she had of the man, and trusted Professor Lupin deeply, no one could take care of Harry like she could. Or so Hermione told herself, clutching the bag of ancient books to her chest as the plane began to take off.

A/N: This chapter is a two-parter. I had considered making it one large chapter, but I wanted to experiment a little with perspectives and flow. It's a break from my usual style, but hey! What is fan fiction for if not to allow authors a chance to experiment with different ideas and concepts?

In retrospect this was probably not the best of ideas… but hey. It was certainly a learning experience, and one that has born fruit for other endeavours.

Until Next Time,

~Elsil