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Harry Potter and the Seventh Duel by Lang
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Harry Potter and the Seventh Duel

Lang

A/N: Hey everyone! Really sorry about the long update. Computer crashed, lost chapter eight, with my Firewhiskey website opening. Things were hectic - I'd also started a new project at work and that was taking lots of my time. Anyways, here it is after quite a wait, Chapter Eight.

***

Some say that Hogwarts is the safest place in the Wizarding World. Anyone who claimed that would have been very embarrassed by the smaller amount of students that had returned to the school.

Though there were quite a few first years, it was nothing compared to the previous years Harry had attended. He supposed that's why McGonagall had little qualms of allowing Junior to stay with him at the school. The lack of students also led to teachers having to teach fewer classes. Instead of having to teach two first year classes, they only had one; and that made most students a bit sour. The length of every class was now doubled what it used to be. The Headmistress had sympathy however, and she allowed a sustenance break halfway through each class.

So, now here was Harry on a break, looking for Junior. He thought this was a perfect opportunity to tutor him. Nobody knew Harry liked to teach, save Hermione and Ron and maybe a few others. Harry only recently had the inkling to become a Hogwarts Professor. Well, it wasn't so much an inkling as it was that he wanted very much to become a professor rather than an Auror.

Sure, as an Auror he was defending the Wizarding World, and by most people's opinions it was something he was good at. But teaching? Teaching allowed him to prepare other Wizarding World Aurors. Why be one Auror when you can prepare ten, fifteen, or even twenty?

Descending the stairs in the entrance hall, he spotted Junior. Normally spotting Junior conversing in the entrance hall was not unusual. Many of the first years of every house would talk with him. After all he had no house loyalty as of yet. Though Harry guessed he had Gryffindor as his favorite. Though he was biased, he thought Gryffindor was the best house there was. No, the unusual situation about Junior in the entrance hall was who he was conversing with. Harry didn't know much about this person. If you call actually call this… person… a person. Oh, who was he kidding? The Bloody Baron is a ghost and rarely talked to anyone! Even to those in Slytherin house. Yet, here he was laughing quite jovially at something Junior had said.

Harry was approaching the pair slowly when Junior spotted him and waved. The Baron merely turned his head and frowned. Harry didn't know.

"Hey, Harry! Have you met Sir Fearghas?"

Harry blanched. He knew, or rather, the Bloody Baron told Junior his real name? Harry's mouth dropped slightly before regaining his composure.

"Sir Fearghas? You were a knight?"

What appeared to be a smirk on the ghost's face quickly changed to a frown.

"What? Did you think I carried this sword for decoration?" the ghost responded, clearly agitated.

Harry shifted from foot to foot trying not to look sheepish. The ghost responded with a grumble and a retort.

"Harry Potter, the one who wields Gryffindor's Sword, not knowing a knight when he sees one."

Harry wanted to ask if anyone, in fact, knew what a knight looked like. From his point of view no one had, indeed, clued in that the Bloody Baron was in fact a knight. Instead he ignored the comment about wielding Gryffindor's sword and rebuked, "At least I can still fight with a sword."

Harry didn't think he'd ever been scared of a ghost until that moment. The small smile on the Bloody Baron's face turned into a maniacal grin.

"Meet me in the chamber at midnight," he said in a whisper, "and make sure you bring your sword."

Harry gulped. He did his best to hide it as the Bloody Baron drifted away.

Junior looked taken aback. Then he looked towards Harry with a sympathetic glance.

"So, err, was there a reason you were looking for me?" Junior asked

Harry was off in outer-space until Junior asked the question a little louder. He snapped his head rather quickly to Junior. For a moment Harry's mind was blank. It was still reeling with the possibilities of what might befall him tonight. He could back out of course, which would be the smart thing to do. He could honestly say he was lucky when he fought the Basilisk in second year. If at all possible to do, he had gotten the `jump' on the large snake. He did not come away unscathed however. He sighed, snapping back into reality.

"Yes, I wanted to start teaching you some spells if you're up for it?"

Junior's eyes brightened visibly. Needless to say he was ecstatic. His expression went from very excited to very put out in a matter of seconds.

"I don't have a wand," he replied rather heavily

"Well, we'll just have to take a trip to see the headmistress, won't we? I'm sure she's got some way of getting a wand. You wonder how all the new first years got wands."

The trip to the headmistress' office was probably made in record time, or it seemed so for Harry. Harry could tell Junior was anxious about obtaining a wand or maybe the possibility he wouldn't be able to until next year. Either way, when he approached the gargoyle he was faced with the dilemma he was all too familiar with.

"Right," he started, "now what's the bloody password?"

"Why not just ask the gargoyle to let us in. You are head boy," Junior said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"It doesn't work, li-"

"Smart lad. The intelligence of the Head Boy must be diminishing," a coarse voice interrupted.

Harry, startled, looked at the gargoyle and glared.

"Well," Harry huffed, "would you mind letting us in to see the Headmistress?"

"Oh, I suppose," the gargoyle responded

With that the scratching of stone could be heard as the gargoyle moved, and the stairs turned in place to allow entrance. Harry chuckled as Junior still had the same expression the first time he went up this staircase. Harry heard a conversation in the office, so he knocked on the door a little harder than usual.

"Come in, Harry," McGonagall called

When he entered the office, he was quite surprised to see none other than Percy Weasley. McGonagall's frown turned into a smile looking at Harry.

"I always wondered how Albus knew who was at the door. Now I know!" she said gleefully

Harry wasn't paying much attention, he had his eyes glued to Percy, who of course was looking at him with as much loathing as one could put into a mere stare. Percy turned toward McGonagall.

"Heed the warning, Headmistress. Scrimgeour is very adamant that you do."

He then proceeded to quickly sweep from the office. McGonagall sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She cocked her head in the direction of the door.

"He leaves me no choice," she said

"Sorry for interrupting professor," Harry said awkwardly

"No. No, it's fine. I'm rather glad you showed up. The conversation was about you."

McGonagall gestured for Harry and Junior to sit while she organized a large amount of parchments on her desk. She was mumbling about all the errands she had to run the next day and was reciting all the times she had to do them. She seemed to be on a strict schedule. He never realized how similar the headmistress and Hermione were. Both were very talented in Transfiguration and immensely organized. Harry watched in awe as she put each parchment in a specific pile before waxing the top corner to keep them together and putting the assortment of piles in a specific drawer.

"Now Potter, Albus would not have told you something like this. I know because he's kept things like this from you in the past." She paused and turned to his portrait.

"My apologies, Albus."

"Not to worry, Minerva," Dumbledore replied, smiling

Before continuing on, it seemed to Harry as if she was debating in telling him. She had, of course, already told him she was going to fill him in on something, and he prayed she wouldn't leave him in the dark now. He thought she was just about to claim that he needn't know when she continued.

"The ministry, no, rather the Minister says you're a danger to Hogwarts and the students and that I should remove you from the student body. Also, some contacts of the Order have informed me that the minister is trying to find a loophole that would return Junior to the orphanage, as he obviously doesn't believe you capable of having a ward."

Harry was shocked to say the least. The minister had gone too far.

Unsafe to have in the castle, am I? he thought angrily as he gripped the arm of the chair. Junior squeaked as he saw the arm Harry was squeezing start to smoke. Harry's hand started to feel a little hot, and he looked at his hands and then at the arm of the chair in surprise. It was sizzling with smoke simmering above it.

"Don't do anything rash, Potter." McGonagall said sternly, not fazed by the now sizzling chair.

Harry looked up. He may not have meant to, but he directed a scowl in McGonagall's direction.

"Oh, settle down. He may think it true, but need I remind you that more than half of the returning students' parents are only allowing them to return because of the fact that you're here? Now that I've gotten that out of the way, what did you need to see me about?"

McGonagall's tactic seemed to work as Harry, for a few seconds, forgot about the Minister and remembered the reason he was here. It came back to him eventually, and he filed it away. He'd have to send a message to Scrimgeour.

"Junior needs a wand. With all the new students and with Ollivander missing, I was wondering who I could buy a wand for Junior from," Harry said

"Ollivander isn't missing, despite public belief. He's here. I brought him here before his store was attacked. While he lost his stock of wands, he's been making more from the supplies Hagrid has been gathering for him. Follow me, we'll get Junior a wand."

She stood and pointed to an ornate door behind her. Harry wasn't sure whether or not that door was there the last time he was here or if it had been there the last time Dumbledore occupied the office. Shrugging it off, he walked through the door. The room looked exactly like that of Ollivander's shop in Diagon Alley. The ladder that helped reach higher wands was sliding back and forth along the shelves even before the door was open. The ladder's occupant: Ollivander himself. Ollivander was readily writing notes on parchment about every wand in his new stock.

"Ognatius?" McGonagall called

Ollivander turned around, and his eyes went wide at seeing Harry again. He descended the stairs and approached them quickly.

"Ah! Mr. Potter, wonderful to see you again! Is your wand causing you any problems?" he asked

"No, sir. I'm here to buy Junior a wand," he replied

Ollivander looked critically at Junior who shrank back a little.

"Minerva, would you mind fetching that ruddy hat?" he asked

McGonagall chuckled and left the room to obtain the sorting hat.

"Hat?" Harry asked

"Yes! The blasted sorting hat! Never did like him. He said some rather rude remarks to me when I was sorted. Now that I've lost my shop I don't have any tools to determine which wand is most likely to select which witch or wizard. Normally that would've taken hours based on the research I've conducted over the century but with the sorting hat, well he tells me everything I need to know."

"And you're upset about that?" Harry asked

"Well, you would be too! The bloody thing's a ruddy menace! Ah! Here we are."

McGonagall brought a stool along with the sorting hat.

"Now, Junior, due to tradition the first time anyone wears the sorting hat, they are sorted. So you'll know what house you will be in now for next year."

Junior nodded his head excitedly. He wanted to be sorted the second he saw the hat shout the house of the first sorted student. He'd of course heard all of the qualities of the houses, and while he did think of himself rather brave, he didn't think he'd be a Gryffindor. He sat on the stool, and McGonagall put the hat on his head.

"Hmmm," the hat muttered, "well this is a bit rare. I haven't seen this in quite a long time, young man. No matter!"

Despite there only being three people in the room wanting to know what house Junior was to be sorted in, the hat shouted clearly, "SLYTHERIN!"

Ollivander quickly snatched the hat off Junior's head and put the hat on his own head while shuffling through wands. But Harry didn't pay too much attention; he was smiling at Junior. Junior, on the other hand, wasn't entirely thrilled.

"Bother. I was hoping for Gryffindor," he said morosely

Harry started to laugh, "Why? Slytherin is a fine house."

"Didn't Voldemort come from Slytherin?" he asked

"Well, yes, but just because he did doesn't mean you'll be anything like him," Harry replied

"You'll most likely be a better student in Arithmancy than he ever was." McGonagall also chimed in, "He wasn't one for Arithmancy. You see, numbers are a muggle thing." She rolled her eyes as Junior smiled.

By this time, Ollivander had only two wands for Junior to choose from. Or rather, he had gotten two wands to choose Junior. Junior stood, and Ollivander replaced the hat on the stool with a jibe of, "Ruddy menace."

"Can you believe the nerve of that hat? Had the gall to tell me I couldn't do my job properly!" He huffed, "`Oh, its quite obvious what type of wand he needs!'" he mimicked rather angrily

He placed the first wand in Junior's hand, and Harry told him to give it a wave. The bookshelf off to the side then lost its contents. Junior's eyes grew wide. Ollivander frowned, snatched the wand, and placed the other in his hand. Harry nudged him, and as he gave a hesitant wave, trying to somehow mitigate the result, a calm wind passed through the close vicinity of where Junior was standing.

"Damn!" Ollivander yelled, "The mangy thing was right again! He has yet to get one wrong!"

Ollivander huffed angrily before saying, "One foot, yew, unicorn hair. Rather flimsy and perfect for charms work."

Harry was flabbergasted. The wand was huge! And Junior? Junior was well - not.

"'Oh, it's quite obvious that wand is perfect for him. He wants to prove himself so much. He hates his stature! A foot long wand is perfect for him!'" he mimicked angrily again

Ollivander walked swiftly to the shelves to replace the first wand to its original place. He then proceeded to clean up the mess Junior had created.

"How much do I owe you, Mr. Ollivander?" Harry asked

"Oh! Not to worry, I'm on a Hogwarts salary until I get my shop back," he replied

McGonagall led Harry and Junior out of the room back into the office and bid them off. Harry had to return to classes, much to his disdain, and Junior wanted to tell Sir Fearghas where he'd been sorted. No doubt the ghost would be thrilled. Harry wondered if he'd known all along.

As Harry separated from Junior, he set off at a brisk walk to the Gryffindor dormitories to pick up Ron like they had planned after last class and then get his books from the Heads' suite. Saying the password to The Fat Lady, Harry continued on his way to his dormitory. Harry, not expecting to see anyone in the dorm with Ron so close to class time, went in quickly but was stopped short when he heard a yelp.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, "Bloody hell, mate! You scared the dragon in me!"

Harry stood wide-eyed. Ron, noticing where his eyes were looking, flushed crimson. For a moment both of them were silent before Harry snapped out of his stupor.

"Lavender, I suggest you leave before someone catches you up here," he paused, "other than me of course," he added

Lavender nodded mutely and left rather quickly. After she'd closed the door, Harry looked towards Ron.

"Get your charms stuff. You're lucky I came in. If you'd have skipped charms I'd have been forced to give you a detention. That isn't exactly something I want to do." Harry's voice was stern, and Ron didn't want to test him. He quickly gathered his books.

"You'd really give me a detention?" Ron asked warily as they descended the stairs.

"Ron," Harry sighed, "If I didn't, I could risk losing the badge. While it's not that important to me, I've been told it's the reason why many of the students have returned to Hogwarts. So the answer is yes," Harry replied, stretching the truth a little.

They left the Gryffindor dormitory in silence and headed for the Heads' suite so Harry could pick up his own books. They arrived at charms class with maybe half a minute to spare. If they'd have asked Hermione, who they sat beside, she'd have told them they had exactly eighteen seconds before they were officially late.

***

With the invisibility cloak covering him, Harry left the Heads' suite. Having to play the charade of going to sleep, Harry had to wait until after Hermione had gone to bed to leave for the chamber. As it is, he was late. As he entered the bathroom, he quickly swept the secluded lavatory with his eyes for Myrtle. Not seeing her, he hissed in Parseltongue which opened the entranceway. He was hoping there'd be a cleaner way to get into the chamber. He didn't want to get his invisibility cloak dirty.

"I wish there were stairs." Harry hissed

The long slide then produced stairs along the middle. While the top was very steep, it evened out about ten steps in. He made his way to the main room of the chamber where the Bloody Baron was waiting.

"You're late!" he barked

"I had to leave without getting noticed. Unlike you, I have people who watch me," Harry snapped

The ghost huffed. "Well? What're you waiting for! Call your sword!"

Harry, who had completely forgotten about Gryffindor's sword asked "What do you mean call?"

The Baron's eyes narrowed. "Have you not heard of the fables of Godric Gryffindor?"

Harry shuffled his feet. This was one of the main reasons he hated growing up with the Dursleys. He didn't have any historical knowledge of the Wizarding World. That and he never paid attention in Binn's class.

"Raise your arm, boy! Call the sword to you!" he urged

Feeling rather stupid, Harry raised his wand arm and said, "I call Gryffindor's sword."

The sword instantly appeared in Harry's hands.

"As I suspected. And heir most likely." The Bloody Baron harrumphed.

Harry looked towards the Baron. "Did you say heir?" he asked

"Well, it's not like anyone else could've actually called the sword. Well, there has been the rare case. But I doubt it in your case. Now! On guard!"

Clearly not expecting to be attacked so soon after receiving the sword, the ghostly sword of the Bloody Baron, slashed his shoulder. It did not cut his flesh but left a burning sensation along his skin. Harry's instincts then kicked in as he used what little swordsmanship he had. The Baron had dodged just about every swipe he'd made. If he couldn't dodge he blocked with ease. The white marks on Harry's skin disappeared after several seconds, but not before they burned his flesh and left the skin raw. The Baron seemed to grow tired of the fight and slashed his sword across Harry's neck.

Harry fell to his knees clutching his neck. He couldn't breathe, but after several seconds the mark from the sword around his neck cleared and his breathing returned. Gasping for breath Harry raised his head. The Bloody Baron was nowhere to be seen.


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