Minerva was beyond giddy as she walked back through the halls to her quarters that she almost had to stop herself from doing a jig.
Harry Potter was an absolute natural, he had the potential to surpass his father as a Quidditch player within a few years at best.
The ability to catch a small flying object at speeds of well over a hundred kilometres an hour and then wrestle the broom to a complete stop with such ridiculous ease.
On one of the school's death traps posing as brooms, no less.
A thought went out to that poor Longbottom, broken bones always did hurt regardless of whether or not it could be fixed with in the hour or not.
Minerva's good mood instantly vanished as she found the window to her room open and a horned girl hovering on a broom, arm reaching into the cupboard hand mere millimetres away from her gourd.
"err... hi?"
"Good morning Suika Ibuki. I would ask why you are breaking about a dozen school rules, but I am quite certain that it would be a waste of both of our times."
"Well... you took less time than I anticipated?"
"That's not an excuse, Suika."
"Sure it is!"
"I am not getting into that farce, Ibuki."
"I'm trying to get it back for Dietary Requirements?"
"So how many days until you are back on the train and back with your muggle family, eh Potter?"
Harry rolled his eyes before turning away from the turkey sandwich that he had been lucky to find still there so soon before the end of lunch. He had to stop himself from actively salivating over it. They were only offered on Thursday. "About however long it is until the end of the year, Malfoy? How many days until you stop being an annoying git? Oh wait, I don't think it's possible to count to infinity."
Ron almost choked on his lunch while Malfoy scowled before snatching a sandwich off of Neville's plate.
"Hey!"
"You better watch yourself Potter."
"Why?" Ron asked with a grin after swallowing the food he had almost choked on, looking no worse for wear. "So you can help Harry become a Prefect or something? You already helped him become the youngest Seeker in a century. The way I see it, you're a secret Gryffindor, everything you seem to do only ends up working better for us."
"Can you leave Malfoy, I am trying to eat here."
"Potter, me and you. Tonight in the Trophy Room. Wizards duel. Wands only." Malfoy said wiith a smirk. Crabbe and Goyle behind him guffawed loudly.
"Wait wait wait, did I hear that right? A duel?" The glaring match between the Gryffindor Duo and Slytherin Trio was cut off as Malfoy had to duck, lest he get smacked in the head by a wayward horn as Suika leapt out her seat over the table in one smooth motion.
Harry blinked and felt the need to clean his glasses.
"Yeah!" Ron exclaimed. "Malfoy and Harry, I'm his second. Who's yours, you greasy Slytherin? One of the two trolls of yours?"
"What?" Harry looked lost as he stared between the five students crowding him and the sandwich sitting peacefully on his plate.
Malfoy sized up his two body guards. "Goyle. Tonight, at Twelve, in the Trophy Room."
"Nah, tonight doesn't work."
Malfoy blinked. "What do you mean tonight doesn't work? You aren't even involved in this?"
"Fifth Years have Astronomy Tonight. Oh! Next Tuesday no one is doing Astronomy. That's a great time for it. I'll tell everyone!" With that, Suika slipped out of the congregation and ran further down the table.
"Fred, George! Grudge match between Malfoy and Potter! Anything goes! Tell everyone!"
The colour drained from Draco's face as he realised his plans and just been shot out of a cannon. Behind him Crabbe and Goyle glared and cracked their knuckles menacingly.
"Buzz off and go back to your own table, you'll get what's coming to you come Tuesday."
Harry stared at his empty plate and the food rapidly vanishing from the platters in the middle of the table as the bell sounded for the next class, Double History with Binns.
Harry was beyond caring.
"It was then that in Fourteen Twelve that Yogg led an army of four hundred and twenty seven goblin skirmishers through the fields of-"
"Anyone want to buy some Butterbeer?" Suika suddenly asked out of the blue half an hour into the first half of the double session as she hefted a rather large bag onto her desk.
"The weapons were mostly crude axes comprised of a wooden shaft with stone blades-"
"It's not actually true alcohol like the name would suggest." Harry was sitting close enough to here the barely audible 'Unfortunately.' "The body absorbs a tiny amount of of the alcohol in it, just enough to feel the warmth in your stomach. The rest just passes through harmlessly. I'm selling for Three sickles each, Ten for a pack of four."
"Professor!" Hermione's hand shot up. "Isn't what Suika doing against the rules?"
"Miss Gryffindor Student, I am a ghost here to speak about the intricacies of significant wizarding events from history. I could not care one iota less about any question that does not pertain to that specific set of subjects, now if you don't mind, I shall continue my lesson.
"Although each of Yogg's skirmishers were armed with said axes, his armoury contained approximately three hundred and forty two and three quarter more of them. There is much debate amongst the scholars of the Fourteen Twelve, January Twenty Second, Eleven Thirty Three in the Morning Goblin Pre-Riots as to whether or not the three quarters, which amounts to an axe head made of an alloy of Goblin made steel and Mercury, or as it was known back in the year of Fourteen Twelve as Hydragyrum, or more commonly known as Quick Silver, should be considered as a valid weapon in his armoury.
"It was that failed army of four hundred and twenty seven goblin skirmishers and this armoury that Yogg's first born, Yog was able to arm his own army of two hundred and seventy four goblin raiders later that day and start-"
"I'll take one." Zacharias Smith in Ravenclaw was the first to ask.
"Give us three." Theodore Nott muttered as he tossed the coins over.
"I'll take two four packs." Seamus said with a grin.
"Got enough for Three Galleon's worth?" Harry asked as he fished out his coin purse.
"Hey Harry and Ron."
The two were sitting in the plush chairs by the fire as Ron struggled over the homework assigned by Professor McGonagall, they were assigned to write a page on the stipulations of Gamp's in regards to food. For some reason, the professor got an almost demented look when their horned classmate asked whether Alcohol was considered food for the purposes of Gamp's Law.
"What do you want Suika?" Harry muttered as he put down his bottle of Butterbeer on his loose parchment of homework. Ron not so subtlety lifted the offending bottle to check what Harry wrote before almost copying his work verbatim.
"A thought occurred earlier today, do you guys actually have any training in duels?" The boisterous girl seemed almost unsure of herself, much to Harry's surprise.
"Not really, no." Harry answered truthfully. Ron was about to open his mouth to refute but thought better of it.
"Want me to help you train for it?"
"Sure?"
"Malfoy, what's this I heard about you and Potter having a duel?"
Draco wanted nothing more than retreat to his room upon slinking into the Slytherin common room but Gemma Farley, they Slytherin Fifth Year Prefect seemed have a point me charm attuned directly to his his face.
Time seemed to slow to crawl as the Prefect seemed to almost hauntingly glide towards him. It was at that moment that Crabbe and Goyle seemed to come through the door, blocking him from escaping through the only exit, all but guaranteeing a gruesome death.
"Explain. Now." Gemma figuratively snarled with teeth bared, ready to bite his throat out.
Taking a gulp, Draco steeled himself and opened his mouth to explain the entire situation, as he readied himself for execution.
"Draco's gonna smash that stupid Potter's face in." Crabbe provided not so helpfully.
"Yeah, it's an anything goes. I'm his second."
"Err ignore them please Gemma, you know... they aren't too up there in terms of mental prowess."
"Neither are you it seems. You already made that fool the seeker, at this rate that damn Potter is going a to be Merlin damned Prefect if you don't stop screwing around!"
"Well you see... err, I was just going to set the time for a the duel and then blow it off and tell Filch where those two imbeciles will be?" Draco's plan trailed off into a question as he watched the Prefect's figurative scowl become actualized in front of his eyes.
"No, you won't. You were stupid enough to let your silly little plan be overheard and you were outsmarted by the biggest idiot this school has ever seen, a Gryffindor no less! You will be going to that duel, and you will win. Or so help me you will never have a moment of reprieve or the rest of your school years. If you lose, I will personally see to having you take place of the House Elves."
Draco could only nod as he despondently walked towards the bedrooms.
"The first thing I will tell you is not any cool spell, nor any fancy wandless or wordless type of style, not even how to use alcohol to mitigate the effects of most spells."
"Wait, that's a thing?"
"What I am about to do is train you in the most important skill you will ever learn in your entire life. How to dodge."
"Now Dodge."