Harry awoke. Shit! Mental note; don’t ever sleep with a rock sticking into your back… Hurts like shit! The young man was then aroused to full awareness by a soft, shrill. Fawkes. The royal bird sat upon a small boulder right next to him. He looked at him with sad eyes and then without warning sent an image to Harry’s head. Stonehenge. Harry was then released from the Phoenix’s spell, and again felt drained, as if he had run a marathon. Aw come on, Voldy. Stonehenge! Oh that’s so cliché. Harry got up and out of the hole. ‘Twas raining, no surprise, not if you were from England. Harry put out his hand and within seconds, his trusted broom was in his hands. He got on and raced through the air, loving the freedom it brought. He was soaking wet now, and the cold was numbing, but as luck would have it he eyed the massive stones from his broom and started his descent. He put a concealment charm on himself as he touched down, and hid his broom. Damn! The place was crowded with muggle tourists, who were flocking around the bigger stones. So our hero found himself a nice little spot to examine the perimeter, stragically and just looking in awe at the massive constructure. If this was not done by magic, I guess the ancient muggles were quite the engineers. At last after what seemed an eternity the tourists went away, the day had reached twilight. Harry made his way to the stones and started to examine each and every one. After two hours of looking and searching, he sat down, frustrated. This’ll take hours! And I don’t have hours. Looked around and noticed a vide stone, which looked like it had been tramped on until it sank to the ground. He examined it a little and saw an engraving on the stone. An engraving of a snake. Yes!

“Open!”

That low pitched hiss seemed to do the trick because a small hole appeared in the ground, just wide enough to let him through. He carefully lowered himself down to the ledge below the hole. He had to duck immediately, for the boulder slid to close the hole…
It was pitch black. At first Harry felt as he were blind, but then his night vision kicked in and he could see just as well as he could in daytime, and what he saw awed him. He was standing at least 100 feet up in a wast dome and if he were to have any hope of getting down, he would have to climb. There was a door there at the other end, which looked like nothing was there to protect it. The floor was plane. Too plane. This was all pretty weird. Too weird, too easy, Harry thought uneasily. He started down but before he got too far in his descent, he heard a loud noise as if there was someone winding up a clockwork. That can’t be good...
Kinglsey Shacklebolt was NOT in a good mood, right now. Someone had managed to break into his office without sending off any alarms, taken Gryffindor’s sword, but nothing else. And the worst thing was; not a single portrait would say a word on it!

“Damn it, you people, you are sworn to help the current headmaster of this school, now tell me who got in here!” The paintings still wouldn’t be moved. Then an old man said calmly;

“We only help if it seems to be for the greater good. Now silence is beyond doubt the best option.”

“But we are at war! How can it be the best thing?
No answer.

Damn, fuck, shit, I HATE being right! -Harry thought as he jumped forward, did half a somersault in the air, landed on his hands, and dropped low as two big blades swooped both horizontally, and vertically around the room, flying about, trying to skewer him. As he neared the centre of the huge dome, the blades suddenly fell on the ground. Harry let out a sigh of relief. Still in one piece… The earth shook under his feet, stones fell and a huge door made of stone opened in a side wall of the chamber. A big cloud of smoke, dust and steam erupted from the darkness, and a massive creature Harry could not make out yet. The fog subsided only to reveal Harry’s latest opponent. The thing was enormous, its tongue hanging from its mouth, saliva leaking to the floor. Huge claws raked the floor, creating three inches deep streaks in the stone. Three big heads glowered down to him, eyes blazing. Harry’s mind was suddenly taken back to his first year in Hogwarts, to the time he met Fluffy for the first time. This must be Fluffy’s big brother! He he. He snorted loudly as the Cerberus made its way towards the door, through which Harry suspected leading to the next Horcrux.
This sucks. I would learn not to celebrate to early… Harry stood still for a moment, but then bounded towards the door. I still have a chance of making it! Got to make it... Wham! One of the hound’s giant paws made a solid contact with Harry’s torso, and the boy was thrown backwards into the air. Guess I won’t be making it after all… Oh, right, I forgot to scream…

“SHIIIIIT!” CRASH! Harry crashed into the wall across the room, hitting his head against the wall, a blow that left blood marks on the stone. He slid to the floor, his head spinning. He put a hand against the back of his head only to see it covered with blood. Ooooh, now I’m angry! You–should- not- make- me- ANGRY! The warrior got on his feet and drew both blades. He was working himself into a frenzy now, anger boiling in his blood. He slowly but steadily made his way towards the monster, who clearly was having second thoughts about facing this particular person, who had survived that bone crushing blow. But it had to do its job, and killing the intruder was its job. Harry had broken to a slow trot now, moving with unnatural ease, and elegancy. Just before he made contact with the dog, he dropped low, and rolled to the side and slapped the creature on its front left paw with the flat of his blades.
Make it weary; make it angry, an angry opponent makes mistakes… For at least two hours this went on, the creature going angrier by the minute. Harry of course was getting tired, but still had some fuel left in his system…

Voldemort was getting restless. Many days had past since the vampire had left and still no word. Surely the kid couldn’t have defeated that blood – sucking filth! Shadowstalker had centuries of experience that could not be matched. But the boy, as much as Voldemort hated to admit it, had shown time and again that he was resourceful, and would without doubt be a great asset to his ever growing numbers. But Lord Voldemort was not a fool. Over confident, dangerously so, and arrogant, but not a fool. He knew that the boy would not join him. He would rather die. Such a waste…

Harry was running down a well lit corridor now, just having made it past the Cerberus. He had used the most simple way he could think of to make it past the damn dog. He had used its own ruthlessness against it, and by steadily pulling back from the door, and always the beast followed, not risking losing it’s pray. And when the time was right, Harry had suddenly lunged forward, under the creature and ran cross the room. He had not made it uninjured though. Four long gashes ran down his back, where the Cerberus had put its claws into his back, just as he made it through the door. They hurt. But now was not the time to worry about something as trivial as pain. Pain was to be endured. He rounded a bend and slowed down a little bit. There, not fifty feet away was a pedestal, and upon it was placed a thing that made Harry’s heart light, his step cheerful, and gave him a boost of hope. He had found Hufflepuff’s cup…

Ginny Weasley sat in the Great hall pushing the food around her plate. She was feeling particularly down at the moment, and not even Ron’s efforts to make her smile were successful. She looked terrible. She had trouble sleeping. Every night she would have nightmare of Harry dying, and each and every night the dream was different. But somehow, last night’s dream had been the most unsettling of them all;

She had dreamt of a raven flying over the woods that now surrounded the Burrow. And it descended and touched down at the edge of the garden. He was tall, had long hair, which fell just short of his shoulders. He was wearing clothes like she had never seen before. He was wearing leather boots underneath gleaming shin guards, black trousers of some soft material and a white linen shirt with long sleeves, like the ones pirates used to wear.
And on his forearms, he had black leather arm – braces. He had a leather armour on, that fell close to his body. But what struck her oddest was the fact that he was armed to the teeth. On his back she saw what looked like two swords, in seethes, and a shield was strapped on his back as well. In a holster at his side, there was a bow, and a quiver at his other side. Quite the warrior, she thought. Ron and Hermione were on their feet, wands drawn. Her parents along with Bill and Charlie were on the patio now, staring at the unknown person.
“Don’t move a muscle!” – Her father shouted…

And just like that, the dream was over. The fact that she never saw the unknown man’s face troubled her. She had to know who it was. She was fairly certain the man was someone close to her, but who? It was not Ron, not Hermione; in fact she was quite certain that he was not someone she knew well. That it was Harry had crossed her mind more than once but Harry was not so tall, and not so muscled, and besides, Harry wearing a sword was just plain stupid, not to mention bow and arrows. Who could it be? Percy had raid hair. (Nothing else was possible, seeing how he was a Weasley). The dream was an enigma to her. She hadn’t shared it with Ron or Hermione, knowing them, Ron would directly jump to the conclusion that she was going off the rocker, while Hermione would just pat her knowingly on the shoulder. She had to deal with this on her own.

Harry had stood frozen for a couple of minutes, not moving a muscle but was eventually forced to blink due to dry eyes. Could it really be that easy? Just walk down the corridor, grab the cup, and walk away? Naw, no way. There was bound to be at least one nasty trick in the next fifty feet for him to overcome. He started forward, each step cloaked with caution. He did not want to fall through the floor, or something like that. To his utter surprise he made it all the way to the pedestal without anything bad happening. He was but three steps away from it now, the relic lying peacefully in front of him. Well at least I don’t have to drink some nasty stuff that has me whining like some baby… He instantly was reminded of his journey with Dumbledore to the cave. Then a thought hit’im like a tidal wave; It should have been me! If I would have insisted on drinking that stuff, Dumbledore might still be alive… His other inner voice replied with scorn; Oh, that would have been good, to have you, the young man dying instead of a senile old man! Harry regretted that thought right away, but the thoughts kept haunting him… What if, what if, what if… Harry’s reasonable inner voice was utterly sick of this by now; Right! I hope you realize that you are failing Dumbledore with this bitchy whining all of the sudden. Now pull up your pants and act like an adult, for crying out loud. You’re embarrassing me! I shudder to think what the ladies would think if they saw you now… Get up of your ass!!! Harry snickered in spite of himself. Heh, I’m getting good at this… He got up and faced the cup. That’s the best you can do, Voldemort, putting bad thoughts in one’s mind. Hah! Pathetic! The boy reached out, and picked up the cup. He felt a little bit nauseous, from the evil that lurked inside the beautifully shaped iron. Now there’s an odd sensation…

“Okay, Harry, think of something pure, good, of something you love…! - Harry muttered to himself. Ginny. The cup shook little bit.

“Not happy enough” Sirius, Ginny, mom, dad, Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione.

“Not enough, try a whole thought…” And Harry thought of that sweet victory in Quidditch. How good that felt, and Ginny coming at his side. They kissed. As Harry remembered this, he felt good, no, not good, he felt elated. The thing in his hands started shaking violently now, and pain shot into his body, not much unlike he had experienced back at Malfoy manor. His mind was filled with dark, disgusting thoughts. Enjoying causing pain, suffering, killing. Harry fell to his knees. Tyrranise the less powerful people, hate for muggles, and all half – breeds. And as Harry thought he could not take it anymore, a powerful blast erupted from the cup, hitting the walls of the chamber. And all went quiet, still and peaceful. The nausiating feeling was gone, and the pain was gone. Harry looked at the piece in his hands, at how peaceful it was. And the founf himself not believing that so much evil could reside in such a small thing as this. He put the cup in the bag he was carrying and made his way out of the room. He passed the threshold of the room, and half expected the place to come crumbling down but no such thing happened. Huh? Weird… He continued on his way out and rounded the bend that led into the Cerberus chamber. And there was the dog, in the middle of the room, waiting…