Harry stumbled a little as they landed in a dark alley. A cat hissed at their sudden appearance before streaking off into the gloom, banging up against trash bins. Severus did not move away until he made sure the boys were steady on their feet, then he began walking carefully to the sidewalk ahead of them, eyes darting back and forth to make sure their passage went unnoticed.

Determining the coast was clear, he led his sons along the quiet lane, devoid of activity – even late night trick-or-treaters. As they approached the village square, Harry took note of the monument that stood dead centre, dark and looming in the night sky. A typical war monument, he gasped when it began to change before his very eyes as they drew alongside. Severus stopped to let the boys take in the sight. He had seen it before, but it was – startling – to see the war pillar change into a statue of James and Lily holding a baby Harry in her arms, a lightening bolt etched on his forehead.

“I can’t believe someone did this!” Harry whispered, horrified and fascinated at the same time. The rustling music of dry leaves scuttled along the street at his feet, pushed by the wind, as he stood there mesmerised by the sight.

“Incredible, isn’t it?” Draco asked. “And the Muggles don’t even know it’s there,” he said admiringly at the charm work involved. “Did you read the inscription?”

Harry just nodded his head, staring at his mother and step-father. The likeness was so well done, it seemed as if they would look down at him at any moment and climb down off the pedestal to join the family – as it was meant to be. Harry had to rein himself in so that he didn’t reach out to the figures standing before him. But they kept staring down at the baby in Lily’s arms, never moving – and he felt his father’s hand clasp his shoulder and squeeze it in sympathy before urging him to keep on moving down the street.

Harry looked back over his shoulder, but the statue had resumed its Muggle facade: an obelisk with names of the fallen on all four sides, each side representing a different conflict that men of the village had participated in; so he turned back to following Severus.

Walking along the leaf strewn streets, they passed a forlorn looking lot; picket fence in great need of repair and white-washing with the gate barely hanging by its hinges. A house stood back from the street, surrounded by a weed choked yard – but Harry could tell that at one time someone had cared for the place.  The remnants of carefully plotted gardens were visible through the brambles. The pale moon came out from behind a cloud to illuminate the darkened abode – showing the disrepair and the evidence of a fire that had nearly obliterated the top floor. Harry seemed drawn to the dwelling and stopped outside the gate. His father came up to stand behind him, Draco a little ways back.

“That was your home, Harry; where you lived that first year. The destruction you see happened when He tried to kill you.”

“The spell rebounding did all that damage?” Harry asked incredulously, looking back to really look at the little cottage.

“Yes. That’s why everyone was astounded when Sirius found you alive.”

“Sirius? He found me?” Harry peered up at Severus.

 “Yes, and Hagrid came soon after – Dumbledore sent him when the alarms went off in his office. Sirius handed you to Hagrid, the cat to Bathilda Bagshot, and took off without any explanations. Hagrid took you to Hogwarts to have Madame Pomfrey look you over before sending you on to – well... you know the rest.” He fell silent as they all gazed at the ruined edifice before continuing on their way as the silver orb slid behind another cloud bank.

They kept walking until they came upon a little church, the moor-mist deep on its grounds. Harry could tell that it was just a small parish church, quite old with ivy and moss creeping up the stone sides. Large oaks in the churchyard, denuded of leaves due to the season, hunched over the chapel’s roof and cast weird moving shadows that almost seemed human in their movements. The moon came out from behind a cloud, bright enough to let them see the kissing gate that led to the small local graveyard. Draco shivered in the cold, damp air – feeling a bit spooked as they entered the hallowed ground.

Severus sent a spell at the hinges to keep them from making any noise and alerting the Vicar to their visit. He gently pushed it open, motioning with his other hand for the boys to hurry along. Latching it behind him he unerringly led them between the rows of headstones, both ancient and recent, that were semi-hidden under the blanket of mist until he came to a row headed by a rowan tree. He began walking along it, silently counting the headstones in his head when he heard a gasp behind him. He turned to find Draco staring at a set of gravestones, worn with nearly a centuries worth of age.

“Dumbledore lived here?” the boy stage whispered. Harry whipped around and trotted back to where his brother was standing. The names on them read Kendra Dumbledore and Ariana Dumbledore. He looked over questioningly at his father.

“They were his mother and sister. The family came here to live right before Albus entered school or soon thereafter. They passed away right after he left. That’s all I know,” he said apologetically. “Harry, your parents are right down here,” he indicated. Harry took one last look at the graves of Dumbledore’s family then followed his father down to his own.

Severus came to stand solemnly before a large headstone, still relatively new looking with its polished red granite face. It was large enough to encompass the two plots before it, an urn of autumn mums standing beside it. And there was his mother’s name side by side with his step-father. He walked between the plots to kneel before the stone, laying his hand on the letters, letting his fingers trace their paths. He was barely aware of his father quietly leading Draco down the path, leaving Harry to his privacy.

Harry dashed away the silent tears that had flowed, and sat cross-legged on the ground laying a hand on the each of the mounds.

“I wanted to come and say good-bye, Mum, and thank you to you both for protecting me. I miss you so much, even though I never really knew you – but I think my heart knows you and remembers you; at least that’s the feeling I get.

“I found Dad, Mum – and he’s been great! And I have a brother, too! Draco has been great – we share a lot of the same experiences growing up. Ummm, yeah, I didn’t really have a great childhood – Aunt Petunia wasn’t really the best guardian, you know. But then Dad rescued me and we found out we were related and Draco was disowned by his father... well, it was a tough year but we all survived and we’re a family now. I just wanted to let you know that...” he continued to tell stories of living with Severus and Draco and how much he enjoyed school, letting the warmth that seemed to radiate from the graves engulf him and calm him. Eventually he wound down, and just let his hands rove back and forth, petting the grass in his silence.

A discrete throat clearing behind him caused him to look up to see his father.

“They’re warm,” Harry pointed out. “The earth – it’s warm, like a hug.”

“A spell left behind just for you, Harry. No one else feels that when they come here to visit – it’s keyed just to your magical signature.” He offered a hand to his beaming son, helping him to stand up and shake out the tingles in his legs from sitting so long on the ground, and brushing the dried leaves off of his cloak.

“You don’t even feel it?” asked his son sadly. Severus shook his head.

“No, I feel something else... I feel her love. It’s something she did – when she knew she would probably never survive. Left behind these spells for us – keyed to her death. That warmth you felt – the hug like feeling; that is her love for you. Mine is different, but it is still her love.”

They stood there a moment, Severus’ arm around Harry’s shoulder as they gazed one more time at the graves before turning away and rejoining Draco.

“Can we come here every year?” Harry asked as they began the long walk back to the apparation site.

“We can try our best,” Severus said, hurrying the boys along. It really was quite late and he wanted to get to the Manor as quickly as possible. Having Harry out like this was courting trouble. His son seemed content with his answer and Snape sighed with relief when they reached the alley without any attacks materialising from the shadows. Making sure that the boys were ensconced in the folds of his robes, he turned them all and disapparated with a snap of displaced air.

****

Severus let out a sigh as he let his body relax into the thick cushions of the wyvern-hide covered wing-back chair in his study. Several small pops along the spine surprised him as he settled in and rolled his shoulders and neck to ease their tension. A glass of Veela-made brandy was warming idly in his hand as he let the warmth from the fire wash over him, chasing the chill of the evening at Godric’s Hollow away from his bones. The little trip had gone surprisingly well and he felt as if he had been able to give Harry some closure on that part of his life.

The boys had headed upstairs immediately upon arrival at the manor house, quietly making plans for the next day. He wanted them to have a care-free weekend, just the three of them together – no worries, no schoolwork; just three bachelors banging around the old place.

He smiled to himself, sipping on the brandy, as he realised how proud he was of his sons. Had it only been two and a half years that he’d had them under his permanent care? It seemed like they had always been there – and yet he could remember the day he had rescued Harry from his cupboard as if it was yesterday. He shook his head and quaffed the last of the brandy. Grabbing a book for the evening, he quenched the parlour fire and let his feet carry him upwards to the second floor where he checked on his sleeping sons - twitching covers here, smoothing back fringes there – before continuing to his suite.

****

Harry felt around him, stretching his magic to the limit, eyes closed – wand at the ready. In his minds eye, his three opponents creeped towards him: Draco from the left, Runeskin from behind and his father from the two o’clock position. They appeared to his conscience as shadows – but shadows with form and substance; shadows that he could feel magic from and could tell when their intent was to fire a spell.

He mentally prepared three spells in succession and when he sensed that Runeskin was about to make a move he murmured “Reverso Protego, Stupify, Protego, Rictumsempra, Protego, Petrificus Totalus, Incarcerus, Incarcerus, Incarcerus.”

He stopped whirling around, arms spread wide, one knee down on the floor and his body leaning forward, hearing the thumps from all around him as his family fell, bound, on the mats. He opened his eyes and gazed at the sight, a giggle breaking out involuntarily as his father glared at him.

“I did it!” he said, sounding incredulous. But then he began jumping up and down. “It was fantastic!” he crowed, ignoring the grunts from his family. But eventually he came down with a hurried “Oh, sorry, Dad...” and he quickly finiteed the spells.

Severus sat up, rubbing the circulation back into his arms and legs – damn, those ropes had been tight – then grinned as his son hauled him upwards.

“Well done, Harry! That is your best display yet. Now we need to work on wordless and wandless casting so that you can never be taken by surprise – nor be powerless if your wand, or your ability to speak, is removed!” He helped Runeskin up as Harry lent a hand to Draco, the other boy slapping Harry on the back of the head.

“That tickle spell was powerful, Harry – got through my ability to block it!” Draco complained.

“I know – you were cackling like a Hyena!” Harry chuckled, ruefully rubbing the back of his head; his brother could hit hard.

“Was not!” Draco protested.

“Trust me, Son, you were,” Snape verified – amused as Draco blushed like a girl and went off grumbling to the showers. Harry just raised an eyebrow at his brother’s antics before grinning at his father and following – grabbing a towel on the way.

Runeskin bowed formally to his employer before disappearing with a crack, leaving Severus to twitch his wand at the mats, cleaning and stacking them before he grabbed a towel from the pile by the door and heading off to his own rooms to shower. They were due back at the castle at three o’clock – just in time to watch the champions chosen.

****

Draco looked around his immaculate room, making sure everything was in place and he hadn’t forgotten anything that needed to go with them. It had been a relaxing weekend, but now the fun was to start with the students from the other two schools staying on for the entire year to cheer their champions on to victory. As he made one last check in the mirror, he wondered who the Hogwarts champion was going to be. He’d heard several Ravenclaw seventh-years contemplating it, and he knew a few of the more thick-headed Slytherins were going to put their names in... Then there was Diggory from Hufflepuff, his name had been bantered around the Common Room. Luna seemed to think he had a good ‘aura’ – whatever that meant in her parlance. He wasn’t quite sure the traditional meaning of that word and her interpretation meshed.

A knock at his door heralded Harry. “You ready?”

“Yeah, is Dad?”

Harry nodded his head, setting his braid swinging madly across his back. “He’s heading downstairs now, so we’d better hurry.”

Draco grabbed his school bag, a fine leather case that Severus had gifted both his sons with before school had started. Their initials were imprinted on the fine Dragonhide leather in black ink underneath a Hogwarts crest – their house quarter prominently coloured. It was a sturdy case, with an Everlight charm and Extension charm to make the inside much roomier than it looked. There were special holders for ink bottles and quills – so you wouldn’t be caught flat-footed looking for them at the start of class, and many dividers to keep things organised. All in all, one of the best presents – short of his adoption papers – Draco had received from Severus.

The boys raced down the hallway, careening around the corner to the main hallway that led to the grand staircase, each taking a side and seeing who could pound their way down to the bottom the fastest. They came to a screeching halt in front of their father who had their cloaks over his arm, his own already clasped around his thin shoulders. He just shook his head and offered them the coverings.

“So, who won?” Harry asked.

“It was tie. How many times have I asked you two not to run at breakneck speeds through the corridors? Never mind, I really must remember that you are teens and that you have no frontal cortex...” he mumbled to himself. The boys just looked at each other and shrugged as they took his arms and prepared for Apparation.

****

The Snapes entered the entrance hall just in time to join the throng of students that were heading into the Great Hall. Severus made his way up to where the teachers and judges were all standing, taking a position where he could surreptitiously watch the entire hall. The tables had all been pushed back against the walls, and the students were milling around the floor still looking at the blue-flaming goblet.

Harry and Draco headed to where most of their class was standing.

“Hey guys,” Harry said as he approached the group.

Hermione gave him a welcoming smile as the brothers joined them. “Hi, Harry; Draco,” she greeted. “Did your visit home go well?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered, keeping an eye out for Dumbledore who had yet to enter the hall. “Dad took us to Godric’s Hollow so I could visit the Potter graves. Dumbledore had lived there – did you know that?” He was startled when she gave him a piercing look.

“No, I did not! That wasn’t in ‘Great Headmasters of the Century’,” she exclaimed, clearly perturbed at this obviously important omission. “Well, you missed some fun around here,” she added then launched into a description of Fred and George’s attempt at bypassing the age ring around the goblet. “...And they were rolling around the floor, accusing each other of botching the potion! As if they could think that a simple ageing potion would defeat the greatest wizard of our times!” she huffed. But then she broke out in a giggle, “It was funny to see them in the long white beards and grey hair – they looked just like Dumbledore!”

Harry smiled at the description then shushed them as he saw Dumbledore enter the hall. “My galleon’s on Angelina,” he whispered to George who was standing behind him.

“I’ll mark you down,” the older Weasley murmured back, keeping his voice low so that any sharp eared teachers wouldn’t catch him. He made a tick in his little black book as Harry passed him a galleon from behind his back. “Draco?” George asked.

The Ravenclaw slipped him a galleon as well. “My money’s on Diggory,” he stated.

“That’s an interesting bet... I’ll give you better odds on that one – twenty to one,” he offered. Draco looked impressed and passed the Gryffindor four more galleons.

“You know something we don’t, Snape?” Fred asked shrewdly.

Draco shrugged. “I just like his chances.” Then he grinned back at the twins, “And I really like those odds.”

Fred was about to say something, but Dumbledore used his sonorous to silence the room effectively.

“The time has come for the choosing of the three champions; one from each school. Whoever is called must come forth and go to the trophy room at the back of this hall where you will await further instructions from the judges. Remember, this is a magically binding contract – once your name is called, you are bound to complete this tournament. So, I hope you all remembered that when you placed your name in the goblet.” He let his eyes travel over all the students, pinning them in place as the flames died down behind him.

A gasp from the crowd alerted him to the Goblet fire brightening and towering above the cup, eventually throwing a piece of paper in the air. He turned and caught it as it drifted down to him and unfolded it to read the name.

“The first champion chosen is... Victor Krum who will represent Durmstrang! Congratulations!” The room broke out in spontaneous applause as Krum came forward from his position near the Slytherin side of the room, shook Dumbledore’s and Minister Crouches hands, accepted a hearty back slap from his headmaster then followed Professor McGonagall who led him to the door of the trophy room. As soon as she had closed the door behind him, the goblet coughed up another slip of paper.

“The champion for Beauxbaton’s Academy is... Fleur Delacour! Well done, Miss Delacour, well done. Yes, follow the professor there,” he advised her as she walked along the line of applauding students and faculty, a victorious smile plastered on her face.

“And the third and final champion, the representative for Hogwarts is...” he paused as the room dropped to a dead silence except for the twins who were imitating a drum roll in the background as he unfolded the singed piece of paper, “Cedric Diggory!”

The Hufflepuffs went wild with joy, jumping up and down and congratulating Cedric as he was passed up the line to land in front of the headmaster, grinning madly at his good fortune.

“Congratulations, my boy!” Dumbledore heartily said, pumping his hand and pointing him in the direction of Professor McGonagall.

Draco was smirking as Fred was made to count out one hundred galleons to him, grumbling all the while.

“How in Merlin’s name did you know, Snape?”

“I listen, Weasleys, I listen!” Pocketing his money he turned to say something to Harry when he saw his father begin stalking forward from the line of teachers, a frown on his face and his eyes on the Goblet. Draco looked at the Goblet and an irrational fear took him as it began to smoke and smoulder again. This was impossible, there were already three champions! He elbowed his brother to point his attention to the centre of the room. Harry’s eyes widened as he watched the Goblet send a fourth fountain of light toward the ceiling again.

Dumbledore turned calmly to the Goblet as it spewed another piece of paper again before the light went completely out rendering the cup lifeless, just as Severus reached his employer. He looked over the old man’s shoulder as he opened the piece of Muggle lined notebook paper, the spiral holes still visible and ragged from being torn out.

Severus’ heart clenched in icy fear as the name was revealed, a strangled “No!” being ripped from his lips as “Harry Potter-Snape” was read out loud by Albus.

“Severus, control yourself,” the headmaster chided under his breath. “Harry Potter-Snape, present yourself!” he commanded, his voice stern and uncompromising as he looked at Harry with ice-cold eyes.

Severus watched as Harry was pushed forward by his classmates, jeering already starting from the other houses.  Ron had grabbed Harry’s arm with a sharp question to his mate, and Harry had yanked his arm back with a loud, “No, Ron, I didn’t enter!” Draco had a sympathetic, yet protective look to his face as soon as his brother’s name was called. He had squeezed Harry’s shoulder before giving him a push towards the centre of the room, and the scowling headmaster.

Harry’s face was bone white as he stumbled forward – already not looking like a champion, but instead - a pretender. He was looking back at his brother, pleading with his eyes. Draco gave him a little smile and shooed him along; Hermione stern-faced, but nodding encouragingly, stood beside the Ravenclaw.

Severus reached out and took Harry’s shoulders for a moment, sending love and encouragement to stay strong along their bond. Harry took a huge breath then, regaining his equilibrium and, nodding at his father, followed his head of house to the entrance to the trophy room – trying his utmost to ignore the catcalls and boos that followed him. McGonagall looked nearly as white in the face as he did, but it appeared she believed he had somehow managed to put his name in as the look she gave him was not supportive at all. He swallowed hard and avoided her eyes as he walked past her into the room, hearing the clang of the door behind him sound in his mind like a prison cell door swinging closed. Or perhaps a coffin cover? His eyes darted around as he hesitantly entered the room, seeing the happy, excited faces of the other three participants swapping tales of their own exploits in school so far.

Cedric looked up as Harry entered the room.

“Harry? What are you doing here? Do they need us?” Harry could only look at this older boy who had befriended him on the way to the Quidditch finals and found that the words couldn’t come out of his mouth. He was saved from trying to force speech past his lips when he heard the adults enter the room. Severus swirled over to him immediately, standing behind his son and lending him his support as Dumbledore rushed over to them. The headmaster’s hand darted out to reach for Harry’s arm only to be stopped by Snape’s wand being levelled at him.

“Stand away, Albus – you will not touch him! This is not his fault – you know he wasn’t here to put his name in the cup; we’ve been gone since the damn thing was lit and did not return until just an hour ago!”

“Vhat is he saying?” Victor pushed forward. “Is this leetle boy to compete? I don’t understand.”

“Compete? Noooo – ve vere chosen, ve three!” Fleur complained. She turned as her headmistress ducked her head under the lintel and entered the room, keeping hunched over as the room was almost too short for her. “Madame, vhat haz happened – vy is this boy competing?”

Madame Maxime, Karkaroff and Crouch tight on her heels, quickly joined the rest in the centre of the room – Moody not far behind, his eye spinning madly in its socket.

“Yes, Albus, I demand an explanation – vhy was this boys name tossed out of the Goblet? He clearly is not old enough to compete!” Maxime logically pointed out. “If you get two champions, ve should as vell!” she argued.

“The goblet can not be relit until the next tournament!” Dumbledore explained. “I was trying to ascertain what happened when everyone came in, please let me continue,” he barked, effectively stunning everyone to silence. He turned back to Harry, focusing his twinkling blue eyes on the lad. “Now Harry, tell me how you got your name in the cup without triggering the age line. Did you have an older student enter you? Did you levitate the paper into the cup?” he suggested.

Harry was shaking his head vigorously, his plait dancing along his back as he leaned back against his father’s chest.

“I didn’t do anything, headmaster, honest. I didn’t want to compete – I was happy that there was an age limit, it meant I shouldn’t have to participate – I would be safe this year!”

“Safe? Vhat is he talking about, Dumblydoor?”

Dumbledore gave Harry a calculated look before murmuring, “Nothing, he means nothing.” He then gathered his courage and half-turned toward the tall woman. “Madame, may I present Harry Potter-Snape, currently a fourth-year at my institution.”

“Not long,” Snape muttered to no one in general. “I’m going to remove him – and Draco – forthwith, once we get this mess cleared up.”

“Well, obviously he is lying!” Karkaroff protested. “He had to have found some way to circumvent the protections! I demand a redo, or allow us all two champions apiece!” The foreign students and Maxime were nodding vigorously in agreement.

Dumbledore was shaking his head. “He is not lying, Igor. He has not been here all weekend, as his father stated. I know this for a fact.”

“Yes, so obviously someone powerful bypassed the cup’s protections,” came Moody’s voice from the shadows. “Someone managed to confound a powerful magical item, sneak Potter-Snape’s name in under a fourth school and made it look as if he did it himself. The lad isn’t old enough to know how to do that, nor do I think any of the students could have done this. It takes great power to do that; something only very few people possess and all of them are in this room,” he intimated, letting his eye roam around the room. Everyone felt as if they were being x-rayed, and a few shivered in dread.

“You think someone here in this room did this?” Igor laughed derisively in the Auror’s direction. “You’re mad!”

“So people have said, but I stand by my statement. Now, while the boy’s father is magically strong enough for this, and I wouldn’t be lying if I said I wished I could pin this on him – he was with his son and therefore could not have done it, so that leaves the five of us. Anyone want to ‘fess up?” He looked around expectantly then chuckled at the stunned looks on their faces. “Yeah, I didn’t think so...” he muttered.

“This is ridiculous!” Maxime announced. “Dumblydoor, I insist you remove this boy from the competition!”

Dumbledore looked over at Minister Crouch. “Bartemius? You are the official in charge; can we get Mr Potter-Snape out of the competition? We need a ruling.”

Crouch was silent for a moment, the other adults and champions watching him like carrion eaters waiting for the right moment to pounce on their dinner. He was obviously searching his vast memory of the competition’s rules and regulations.

He finally looked up, his visage dour and rigid. “The instant that piece of paper with the boy’s name on it was entered into the cup, and not rejected, it constituted a binding agreement. He must compete or the magic will eliminate him.”

“So, vhat’s the problem vith that?” Krum asked. “He vill be eliminated from the contest!” The other two students nodded their heads in agreement.

Crouch gave a pitying look at the Durmstrang champion. “You misunderstand me, Mr Krum; by elimination, I mean killed by the magic.” He looked back towards Snape who had pulled Harry in closer, holding his shoulders protectively. “I am sorry, he must compete or die,” was his final pronouncement. The room was silent as the words landed like a lead balloon on the assemblage. Unsaid was the notion that if Harry competed, he would not survive.

Snape broke the silence, his voice steel-edged, brooking no forgiveness. “I give you fair warning now, Albus: if anything should happen to Harry, I will leave and take the boys with me. Do you understand, old man? This is the final straw!” he growled, a personal shield springing up around him and Harry, totally unconsciously as his protective streak took physical form – pushing everyone away from them.

Albus acknowledged the ultimatum. “Very well. Bartemius, please read the rules to the champions.”

Crouch approached the cluster of the three champions and Severus holding onto Harry. “You will have three tasks to perform over the course of the year – the first task will be held the twenty-seventh of November. At the completion of this challenge you will be given a clue that you will have to solve before participating in the second task in mid-February. The third task will take place in June after school tests are completed. Remember, this is a measurement of your prowess and skills, not your friends or classmates. You should not accept help in any of these tasks. The press will be informed of the Champions selected and you can expect them here in a few days time. I bid you good luck gentlemen, lady,” he said, bowing stiffly twice to the group. “I will see you in twenty-seven days.” He stepped back only to be joined by Dumbledore as he escorted Mr Crouch out the door, asking if he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t like to spend the evening here?

The other headmasters collected their champions and herded them out the door, leaving Mad-eye, the Snapes and Diggory.

Cedric walked up to the smaller boy, holding out his hand.

“I trust you, Harry. Good luck this year.”

Harry peered up at the taller boy then shook his hand. “Thanks, Cedric. I wish you luck too, and hope you win – you’re the real Hogwarts champion here, not me.”

The older boy frowned. “Harry, don’t underestimate yourself; the cup chose you, it must think you are qualified enough to handle these tasks,” he assured the young Gryffindor.

“I hope so,” Harry murmured. Cedric smiled sympathetically, then turned and left the room to join the Hufflepuffs who were waiting in the Great Hall to honour him.

Moody stumped out of the shadows to join the Snapes. “Come with me, you two, we need to talk.”

Severus raised his eyebrow, his son matching him level for level, as they followed the old Auror out the door.