Logic meets the supernatural with this Hardy Boys crossover with Harry Potter! A dark secret is revealed, a new threat uncovered. When the boys get kidnaped by the Dark Lord, can Harry and the Hard...
What did the Dark Lord possibly want this time? Hadn't killing Cedric Diggory, nearly murdering Harry Potter, and coming back to power been enough for him? The old man shook his head. Of course not; he shouldn't be so absurd. Lord Voldemort would stop at nothing in his quest for power...even if it mean going to the extremes of traveling to America...to the small town of Bayport...to work against an old and nearly forgotten, yet increasingly powerful foe.
The man sighed. He had really hoped it wouldn't come to this. Poor Fenton, he thought. Everything has been going wonderfully for him and his family. He has stuck fully to his promise, and his boys know nothing of his secret and the never-wavering danger they and their parents have been in for so long. Ah, well, he mused, I must warn Fenton. Since he has, indeed, kept to the plan, he will know nothing of Voldemort's return. This will be such a shock for him...and Laura.
He had now reached the home he was looking for, the home of Fenton Hardy. The old man knocked lightly on the door. Fenton was a light sleeper. This would wake him. Sure enough, seconds later, Fenton stumbled to the door, pistol in hand, and asked through the closed door, "Who is it?"
"An old friend."
Fenton dropped the pistol and flung the door open. "Albus!" he stammered, staring open-mouthed at the old man standing before him. "It's been a long time." He shook hands heartily with the man, ushering him inside, but instantly became somber once more. "Why are you here?" he inquired. "What's wrong?"
At that moment, Laura entered the living room and started at seeing the robed figure there. Quickly, she regained her composure and exclaimed, "Albus Dumbledore! What brings you here from London int he middle of the night? There's trouble, isn't there?"
Heaving a great, troubled sigh, Dumbledore said, "More than you can imagine. Laura, Fenton, I have some troubling news."
Fenton's eldest son, Frank Hardy, was just like his father in many ways. He had the same adventerous spirit, the same logical zeal...and he, as well, was a light sleeper. When he woke up to a soft knock on the downstairs door, his natural inquisitive nature kicked into gear. Who could be calling at three in the morning? He heard his father moving cautiously down the hall and the creaking of the stairs as he descended. What could be going on?
Frank bounded silently from bed and ran into his brother's adjoining room. He grinned slightly as he saw his seventeen-year-old brother sleeping deeply. Joe, like Fenton and Frank, was naturally curious and had wonderful detective skills. In fact, Fenton Hardy, an internationally famous detective, had let his boys help on many perilous cases, and the boys proved to be a great team. However, they couldn't be more different.
Frank, at eighteen, was dark haired and leaner than his blonde, muscular brother. Joe was rash, while Frank thought things through. Frank shook his head. And Joe could sleep through a tornado.
Frank rushed to his brother's bed and punched him lightly in the arm. Joe grunted and rolled over. Desperate, Frank rushed to the bathroom which joined his room to Joe's, and filled a small cup with ice-cold water. Then he ran back to Joe and poured the freezing liquid onto his dishiveled blonde locks.
Joe sat up instantly, sputtering and coughing. "What's the big idea?" he hissed, casting an annoyed glance Frank's direction.
"Someone just knocked on the door and Dad went downstairs," Frank whispered excitedly. "He hasn't come back yet, but I think I just heard Mom go down. Maybe we should check and see if everything is alright."
Joe was up instantly. "Lead the way."
Back downstairs, Fenton, Laura, and Dumbledore had retreated to the Fenton's office, where they could talk in peace. "Now," said Dumbledore, "I might as well begin at the beginning."
As Frank and Joe crept downstairs, they heard low voices coming from their father's office.
"This way," mouthed Frank, urging Joe forward.
Grinning, Joe sprang ahead silently and swiftly, and the boys each took a positon on either side of the door. The conversation they heard inside was very low, and they could only hear a few snatches of it.
"...begin from the beginning," the boys heard and unknown voice say. The same voice continued wearily, "You remember, Fenton, Laura...sixteen years ago...Lily and James...murdered...and Harry lived."
The boys glanced at each other, and though each realized they shouldn't be eavesdropping, they couldn't seem to get a grip on their curiosity. They then each moved a few inches forward, as close as they dared to the door, and the voices became more distinct as they heard Fenton say, "Yes, of course, Albus. Horrible day for us all."
"Well..." the stranger's voice grew lower, and once more, though they strained their ears, the boys were only able to distinguish bits and pieces of what was being said. "...two years ago...the tournament...last task...he came back."
At the last phrase the unknown caller said, Frank and Joe heard their parents' audible gasps from behind the closed door.
"You're sure?" Fenton inquired apprhensively.
The brothers exchanged bewieldered glances.
"Positive. Harry confirmed..." his voice dropped again. "We found out...month ago...he still remembers...he wants to use you...power...he lives for it...stop atnothing..."
The voices were audible no longer. Frank and Joe, completly perplexed, were about to turn back when they suddenly heard their names.
"And Frank and Joe?" their father said. "Will they be safe?"
They heard a sigh from the office as they exchanged worried glances. This seemed to be more serious than they had thought. "You know, Fenton, he'll go to any measures to get to you. It is very likely he knows about your sons...we'll go to any means necessary..."
Everything fell silent once more. Then Laura spoke up. "The boys--" she began, voice cracking. She paused, then continued. "The boys...they know nothing of this, Dumbledore...and as far as we know, they haven't got any...how can we protect them? You saw what he did to Lily and James! To the Longbottoms! To Harry! Albus, he can kill instantly! He can control people's every movement! He can torture effortlessly beyond human endurance..." Her voice faded as Frank and Joe exchanged fearful glances.
"Laura," came the strange voice once more. "As long as you and Fenton can help us...along with our other allies...and after what...Trelawny said...it'll be okay." His tone seemed to brighten as he said, "So...Frank and Joe. Haven't seen them since they were little tykes...Frank was but a year and Joe was a month."
"Frank is eighteen, Joe seventeen," answered Laura promptly.
"AndI read in the newspaper that they have followed in their old man's footsteps?"
"Of course," came Fenton's reply. His tone became worried once more. "How can we protect the boys without telling them anything?"
"Oh, you'll have to tell them," the stranger said brightly. "They'll be filled with questions. But not until the right time, which is not tonight."
"Of course not," came Laura's puzzled reply. "How would they even know we are keeping anything from them?"
"Because," the unknown person went on, "they are standing right outside this door, and have heard every word we've said."
Frank and Joe stared at each other in amazement and shock, but didn't have time to dwell on their suprise, however, for at that moment, the office door swung open, revealing the smiling face and twinkling blue eyes of an ancient robed man, the worried expression livid on their mother's fair features, and Fenton's bewieldered gaze.
"Why hello, Frank, Joe," the stranger said. "So nice of you to join us."