IMPORTANT NOTE: As a couple people noticed and pointed out to me, I totally brain-farted and put Lily in the Gryffindor common room in this chapter. Bear with it for a moment-I have to fix that and it'll be fixed fairly soon, but it might have that mistake in there for a while. Thank you to the people who notified me about that in their reviews. Definitely point it out if you see any mistakes like that in the future. Sorry about that!

Editing this morning took longer than I thought due to a decision I had to switch some things around last-minute. Sorry about the late upload. Enjoy!

CHAPTER SEVEN

TURNING THE TABLES

O

Albus was left pondering about the flaming trunk incident the entire weekend. Since when could he perform magic in his sleep? He was pretty sure that he hadn't been woken from a dream, so why would his unconscious mind have produced fire? And had he really fallen asleep with his wand in his hand? He didn't remember holding it when he fell asleep. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn that his wand jumped into his hand by itself and started doing magic on its own, though he knew that was impossible.

Regardless, he made up his mind to write to Luna again.

He took up a quill and began to write down the thoughts that had been in the back of his mind since he arrived at Hogwarts. He explained how his wands had been misbehaving at about the same time that his magic was diminished, making sure to include the parts about the black smoke during Patronus practice and the fire in his rucksack early on Saturday morning.

As he walked up to the Owlery to send the letter, he encountered Holly, who had the same destination in mind.

"What've you got there?" she asked pleasantly.

"A letter to Luna Scamander," he replied. "About my wands. I really do think there's something wrong."

"Oh, yes, I heard about the fire," said Holly, wide-eyed.

"Yeah. I know it sounds weird, I know it's hard to believe, but… I really do think there's something wrong with my wands."

"I guess you'd know best," said Holly, shrugging.

"What're you sending?"

"Note to my parents. I told them I'd write about the trip to Beauxbatons."

They walked in step for a while, until when they were almost at the Owlery, Holly spoke up again.

"Weird though, how it's happening to Lily too, isn't it?"

"How what's happening?"

"The magic-block-thing," explained Holly. "I've never heard of anything like that, and now it's happening to Lily, too."

"I'm pretty sure it's different," said Albus. "Lily's not doing well in any of her classes. I'm still good in the ones that don't require wands…"

"Have you talked to her?"

"Not yet," said Albus honestly, guilt tossing his stomach around.

"Well, you should," said Holly, looking down at him although she was almost a head shorter.

Albus sighed, trying to understand why he hadn't seen his sister at all this year. James had told Albus to stay out of the problem, though.

No, that wasn't true. James hadn't forbidden him to talk to Lily, he had just pointed out that Albus had his own problems to worry about. That just meant that it was up to Albus to decide whether or not he should see Lily. And it was his duty as a sibling—the duties he had been shirking—to see to it that Lily was okay.

He barely even noticed the fact that he was already in the Owlery and had already sent his letter using Alec's owl Peffy; he was so lost in thought that he was performing tasks unconsciously.

And then, as he emerged from his thoughts, he turned just in time to see the setting sun strike Holly at an angle that caused her hair to glow like it was on fire.

"HollydoyouwanttogotoHogsmead ewithme?" he blurted instantly.

Holly turned and blinked. "What was that, Albus?"

"I… er. I said, er, d'you… want to go to Hogsmeade with me?" he asked, catching up to his thoughts; he had shouted that sentence unconsciously, too. "Next Saturday?" he added, although there was only one Hogsmeade trip in the next two months, so it was fairly obvious to which trip he was referring.

Holly was glowing, and not just from the sun. "I'd love to!" she exclaimed joyfully. She bounded over to Albus, hugged him, and then skipped out of the room.

O

"James!" called Albus after dinner on Monday.

James had been about to leave with Gavin, Marco, and Barry, but he stopped and turned around when he heard Albus's voice. He nodded to his friends, and they left without him.

"Al, good to see you," he said. "Have you seen Lily at all?"

"Not alone yet," said Albus. "Have you?"

James shook his head. "I did, but she didn't really want to talk to me about her problem. I don't know why. I'd been keeping up with her throughout the school year so far, but now she doesn't want to talk about the most important thing that's happening to her. I don't get it."

"You don't have any guesses at the cause of the problem?"

"Tabby's good at this stuff," said James, "and I think she made a good point. You have some sort of weird block and you start doing worse in your classes. Then Lily has some sort of weird block and she starts doing worse, too. It happens in the same term, and it happens to siblings, when it hasn't happened to anyone else that we can remember. The odds are so unlikely that it would happen this way randomly, so Tabby says it probably isn't random. She thinks that what's happening to you has to be connected to what's happening with Lily."

Albus considered this logic. "Wait, so…"

"If your problems both happened randomly, then it's incredibly unlikely that you and Lily would both have a blockage in your classes at the same time," recapitulated James. "So, because that's so unlikely, we have to assume that it isn't random. Tabby reckons that you ought to go talk to Lily."

"I was planning on it," said Albus.

"Good," said James. "The sooner, the better. Preferably tonight, if you can."

"I'm headed to my Diwand Spells class, but I'll try to catch her afterwards," said Albus, waving goodbye to his brother and charging to his class so that he wouldn't be late—not that Professor Dixon would notice if he walked in half an hour late. And the pace of the class was so slow that he doubted he would miss more than two or three words even if he was half an hour late.

He did arrive on time, however, and Professor Dixon began talking right as Albus settled in his seat.

"Today," he wheezed, "we will… talk about… Iterations."

The bored class perked up slightly; they had been looking forward to Iterations for some time. This was the process that let both of the wands perform the same action simultaneously.

"Iterations are… more complex magic… than your average spell… but this is obvious… as it takes two wands. Please pair up… into pairs… of two. We will be practicing… with Lumos."

Professor Dixon held up both of his wands.

"Lumos Itero!"

Both of his wand tips lit simultaneously.

"You can imagine," he breathed, "why it might be… advantageous… for a wizard… to use two spells… simultaneously… rather than… to speak the incantation twice—"

The sentence fragment "to speak the incantation twice" seemed to have been too large for Professor Dixon to say in one breath, and he began coughing fiercely. Albus grimaced at his friends; they grimaced back.

"Are you all right, Professor?" asked Skye with concern.

"I am fine," choked Professor Dixon. "I will simply be… coming down with… a minor cold on Friday, that's all."

Puzzled looks were on the face of every student in the classroom.

"Where were we? Iterations… Yes, we will be working with… simple Iterations… this term and the next… and we will enter… the field of… complex Iterations… at some point next year. Complex Iterations… simply means… Iterations with… more complex spells… such as… Expelliarmus… but if you can master… an Iteration… with Expelliarmus… your attacks will be… incredibly difficult… to block effectively… if your adversary… brandishes only… a single wand… but you will… as always… tire faster…"

Listening to Professor Dixon speak was like watching Snailgrass grow. Albus nibbled on the end of his quill, engulfed in boredom, until Professor Dixon allowed them to attempt a simple Iteration on their own.

Albus held up his wands, wishing very much that Luna would write back so that he could see if the problem could be fixed anytime soon. "Lumos Itero!" he said.

After a lot of concentration and an incredible amount of willpower, his wands both began to glow, although somewhat weakly. The effects left him completely drained, though, and he didn't have the inner energy to try the spell again. He almost didn't have the strength to pull himself back up to the dormitory when class was over, and he fell right into his bed, exhausted, completely forgetting that he had intended to talk to Lily.

O

The Gryffindor hostilities against Albus seemed to have died down in the first two months, but Lucas still had the favor of most of Albus's old friends, who were likely only attaching themselves to Lucas because he was smart. Self-consciously, Albus wondered if the only reason that he had made so many friends was because he was so smart, and now that he wasn't as good in class, they didn't see a reason to keep him around.

Albus couldn't worry about his own problems right now, though. He needed to look out for his little sister. He vowed to have a chat with her after his Wandless Magic class after feeling bad for having forgotten the previous day.

Wandless Magic was an exciting day. Up to this point, while working on elemental magic during double periods, the class had done nothing more than meditation exercises called "Kinetic Management" which were supposed to increase the flow of energy in one's body to make wandless magic easier, and indeed, all magic. Nothing, of course, made Albus's magic any easier, but he felt power flowing through him like never before when he was practicing his wandless fire magic. Today, though, they weren't doing relaxation techniques. They were going to be learning about Resonance, and how to shatter objects.

"I want everyone to watch me very carefully," said Professor Skower. "Watch what I do, and try to emulate it when you attempt Resonance training."

He closed his eyes and pressed his hand to the glass, and the glass disintegrated.

Professor Skower then exhaled and asked, "What exactly did I do?"

"You placed your hand to the glass and shattered it," said Ilia Kaska tentatively.

"Ugh, no," groaned Professor Skower. "Wasn't anyone watching?"

Albus disliked Professor Skower; despite how well he knew the material he was teaching, he was not the most effective teacher they'd had.

"I placed my thumb and index finger to the glass first, then the rest of my fingers," he explained as if to a four-year-old. "I never make contact with my palm. Then I took in a deep breath and held it. Make sense, everyone?"

The class nodded. It was always unclear whether Professor Skower sensed the irritated vibes given off by his students after he shot down one of their classmates like that.

"Now, here's what you do in your head," said Professor Skower. "You'll be only checking the Resonance today—during our double period on Friday is when we'll try actually shattering small and fragile objects. You check the Resonance of an object by reading it almost like you would sense the texture with your fingers, or see the proportions or color with your eyes. It's another sense, this one imbued in your inner magical ability. Read the object by channeling some of your strength into the object and sensing the echoes. It's hard to explain in so many words, but since you all should have read chapters forty-eight through fifty-nine in your text for this week, you naturally will understand what I'm getting at. If you find yourself struggling today, you must certainly go back and actually read the chapters, since you were obviously either half-asleep or running on low brainpower when you read it the first time. Now, I've provided fragile objects. Release your inner magic into the object and let it flow around, then absorb it back into your body and do your best to discover what happens when you channel your energy into that object. We'll talk about what happened after thirty minutes. Get to it."

Albus was seated on a desk that had a small piece of sandstone resting upon it. He tried to remember what Professor Skower had done, and what had been described in the intensely tedious reading assignment, and placed his hand on the object in the same manner as Professor Skower's hand. He took a deep breath and thought about what he had learned so far in his classes.

Professor Skower knew that they had done some study on Resonance Training in Alternative Artifact Magic up to this point and was likely counting on them to draw on their knowledge from that class. What was it that Professor Pratley had taught them about Resonance?

Resonance is the magical "shattering point" of an object; the amount and type of Kinesis you need to channel into an object to cause fractures.

One of the more difficult concepts for Albus to grasp was how his inner magical energy could have different "types." It just all seemed like… one big blob of magic. But apparently, this wasn't the case. The kind of energy which you needed to invoke for Transfiguration spells was concentrated more in the head, and that for curses was more from the gut. Random facts about the differing kinds of spells were whizzing through his head; he needed to focus on the sandstone, try and let it speak to him.

He felt a surge of power through his veins—blasting from his heart and whizzing through his bloodstream—he managed to stop it in his hands. The power he felt inside would probably have caused the rock to explode and would have resulted in injuries to a lot of people and mostly him. He felt so much power in his body, but he had a hard time controlling it, just like he had a hard time performing spells.

He channeled a little bit of his energy at a time into the sandstone, reading the echoes and trying to convince himself that he knew what they meant. Shivers are a good sign… it means you're getting closer to the Resonance…

He changed up the kind of energy he was feeding into his sandstone. The energy that had been surging through his veins was coming from his heart. He instead tried to focus a path of energy through his stomach. Through his training in meditation, he could almost feel the energy shifting directions, gliding through his lower torso before rising up to his arms and feeding out through his hands.

He tried channeling some magic through his head next. He rolled his eyes and silently considered the fact that, without constant instruction, it was impossible to tell whether he only thought he was doing it right. He could just be imagining that he was feeling the energy run through his body correctly, and he might not actually be making progress at all. This part of the class was a little too theoretical for his tastes.

And then, when he tried to channel the energy a little lower, he began to shiver. His entire body started twitching uncontrollably, but he wasn't cold.

"Potter!" came a cry from the front. "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it!"

So this was what he was supposed to be doing.

Albus braced his hand against the sandstone and funneled all of his energy through a point just under his stomach. This was the tricky part—moderating how much energy he was pouring into the object. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried tightening and loosening his body, and then he felt more convulsions down his spine. He took one more deep breath, and twitched as he let loose a pulse of energy from his palm that felt oddly natural.

He opened his eyes to see a pile of sand on his desk.

"By Merlin, Potter, thirty points to Gryffindor!" cried Professor Skower. "I knew you had a lot of magic in you. Beautifully done."

"We're not supposed to shatter the objects yet," griped Lucas.

"Oh, can it, Lotor," said Professor Skower. "Potter can't help it if he's better than you; now stop nagging and get back to your tree branch."

Albus suddenly liked Professor Skower much more than he had ten seconds ago.

"I DID IT!" yelped Junie Smith, bouncing up and down with a piece of ice in her hand and several other pieces scattered about her desk. "I GOT IT, I DID IT TOO!"

Professor Skower shuffled over.

"No, you didn't," he grunted. "You just held your block of ice in such a freaking death grip that it exploded."

O

Albus walked out of Wandless Magic exhausted but determined; he knew what he had to do immediately. There was a Potions essay due the next day after lunch, but he would start that after he talked with his sister. Hers was the more pressing issue. He had avoided her long enough; it was time to see what was going on, if he could.

He found Lily in the common room petting Gimmick, who was no longer a kitten but still fully believed himself to be such. Gimmick was curled up on her lap and they both sat in front of the fire; only one of them looked contented.

"Hey," said Albus, crossing over to the fire after making a wide circle around a game of Exploding Snap. "Hey. Lily?"

Lily turned around, and her eyes widened and filled with tears when she saw her brother approaching her.

"W-What's wrong?" stammered Albus, rushing over to her and patting her on the shoulders. Gimmick gave him a disapproving look and jumped down.

Lily shuddered. "Albus?"

"What? What is it?"

"I thought… I thought you…"

Albus paused to let her finish.

Lily's tears started to roll down in full. Other people began to stare, and Albus shot them annoyed looks.

"I thought you didn't like me anymore," she whispered.

"What?" blurted Albus. "What—Lily, that's ridiculous! You're my sister, I love you more than anything in the world! Why would you think that?" He bit his lip. "I'm sorry I haven't been seeing much of you this term, I'm really sorry—I've been busy and—"

He didn't get to finish; Lily jumped out of her chair and embraced him in a tight hug.

Albus patted her on the back awkwardly. What had he done to deserve this hug? And poor Lily—did she think that Albus wasn't keeping up with her because he hated her?

Or… did she think that Albus hated her because she was doing so well in her classes, and had stolen Professor Desulgon from him?

The grinding sounds of gears clinking into place began filling his head. Lily wasn't having a blockage like Albus—she was blocking herself from doing well so that her brother wouldn't hate her anymore. He felt absolutely terrible.

He looked back at the chair to see that it was now occupied by Riley Andersen, who was chewing some Bertie Bott's beans and not caring at all about the scene directly next to the chair.

"What?" he said thickly. "She left the chair and it's a good chair."

Albus cocked his head to one side, and the fireplace burst out several hot embers which landed right on Riley's sensitive areas; he leapt from the chair like he'd been Disarmed from it, and sprinted, howling, down to the third years' dormitory.

O

After that incident, Riley became more liable to try and curse Albus from behind pillars and from the staircases above, but at least one problem was solved: Lily was doing much better in her classes after Albus had given her a stern talking-to.

James and Tabby were immensely relieved by Lily's renewed success.

"Oh, thank Merlin," laughed James. "I thought that I was going to be the next one to catch Potteritis."

"Potterosis?" suggested Tabby. "Sorry, Albus—not to make fun of your problem," she added quickly.

Now that Lily was all sorted out, Albus had to sort himself out—he still needed to figure out his Transfiguration assignment of turning tables into horses, which would be tested in class on Friday. He felt he would never be able to grasp the complexity of the magic in his current condition, but he couldn't let Professor Desulgon down—he still had to try, and do the best that he could on the examination, no matter how pitiful.

Since Lucas, his Transfiguration partner, was out of the question to ask for help, Albus ended up going to Alec, who found it greatly amusing that now, Albus was seeking his help.

"The student has become the master!" declared Alec triumphantly, waving his wand in the air as they entered an empty classroom for practice.

"Yes, yes, the tables have turned," sighed Albus. "I get it."

"Well, the tables haven't turned yet," noted Alec. "We have to turn the tables; that's what this assignment is all about!"

Albus laughed; he hadn't thought about that. "Okay, good point. Anyway… I'm so far behind in this turning-inanimate-objects-into-complex-vertebrate stuff, because I can't even do the stuff we did two years ago, so I don't really know… What do you do when you're trying to do this assignment?"

"You have to kind of pretend that the table is already a horse," said Alec. "Because really, everything is already everything else; we're all made of the same stuff. You just have to remind the table that it's already a horse and then… Conviso Verto!"

Alec's table at once transformed into a majestic, very lifelike horse. Albus knew he'd come to the right person.

Still, though, Alec's explanation was odd, to say the least. He had to pretend that his table was already a horse…

He stared at his table.

You are a horse, table.

He tried not to laugh at the ridiculousness of this thought, and he raised his wand, clearing his throat.

"Conviso Verto!"

The table grew a shaking tail.

"That's not bad, considering," said Alec helpfully.

Another hour passed while Alec gave instruction on how Albus could improve, but Albus never got more than a leg and a half to go with the tail. It was, as always, immensely frustrating.

Alec turned the horse back into its starting point as a table again and said, "One more time. Come on, Albus, I know you can do this!"

Albus tried again; this time, the result was three full legs which started pawing the ground.

"Hey, that's much better!" exclaimed Alec, while Albus managed a weak smile. "You do that tomorrow, Professor Desulgon will be impressed, considering how hard it's been for you these past months and how much you've overcome!"

Alec was a fine teacher. He might make an excellent Transfiguration teacher someday. At least, he was infinitely better than Lucas.

"Let's practice again tomorrow," said Alec, and Albus nodded.

He was sick of underperforming. It was about time for him to get over this block.

O

At breakfast on Saturday, Albus glanced up eagerly at the ceiling. Luna had not yet written back, and it had been a week at this point. Searching the crowd of owls overhead, he found Peffy instantly and his mood lifted, despite the fact that his mood was already very high because today was the day he was going to Hogsmeade with Holly.

He took the letter from Peffy's leg when the crazy-looking snowy owl landed, and he opened it rapidly to see what Luna had written.

"New Zealand?" he muttered as he was reading. "Holy… That's really far! I'm sorry, Peffy, I had no idea that you had to go that far! I'll get you some Owl Treats the next time I can."

Peffy understood and nuzzled his beak against Albus's arm; then he twitched and took off.

"About time," called Alec from the Ravenclaw table. "Peffy's been gone a week! Who were you writing to?"

Albus turned his attention to the letter again before he answered; he had to know what it said immediately.

Hi, Albus,

I'm so sorry to hear about the block you've been having. I have to agree with your parents and your teachers, though. I've never in all of my years heard of a person's magical skill deteriorating after the purchase of a second wand, and I've studied wandlore a lot.

Unfortunately, I'm not in the shop right now; I'm staying in Moutohora in New Zealand with Damien Tashra, Captain of the Moutohora Macaws Quidditch team. (Would you like me to get his autograph for you?) The island is mostly a wildlife reserve and I've come to study some of the fascinating creatures that live here, and experiment to see if any new powerful wand cores might come from these exotic creatures; if the parts can be retrieved humanely, of course.

Speaking of wand cores, your core of Devil's Snare tendril in your first wand has intrigued me for a while. All the same, though I do honestly believe you when you say that you think it's your wands, and though your first wand is experimental and thus likely to behave in ways we've never seen… your second wand is normal, and if it is having the same difficulties, then I think that it is safe to say that your wands are not the problem here. I know you probably don't like to hear that—heaven knows I would love to instantly fix your problem if I could—but to say that your wands are misbehaving is to say that you have a perfectly normal wand that has, for the first time in history, rejected the owner which it has chosen within the first days of its selection, and that your other wand (with which you seemed to have bonded so well) rejected you at precisely the same time. This just doesn't happen; it would be astronomically unlikely. We are forced to accept the far more likely explanation that something is happening inside you and not your wands.

But. I have been wrong before, and I will never risk your talents in favor of my certainties, no matter how certain they may be. If nothing has improved since you've written, feel free therefore to send me a response in which you enclose your wands. I will take some time to examine them and determine if there is some sort of a discernible problem. If you do this, you would have to borrow your friends' wands in the meantime. But your magic may be even worse if the wand you have to use has not bonded with you and has not been taken by force from its owner, so be warned. If you choose to take this course of action, then you should practice with your friends' wands for some time beforehand so you know how your performance would be further adversely affected; I highly recommend that.

Only do this if you are running out of other options; if the problem is not your wands, then you need to spend as much time with those wands as possible, because you and your wands share a bond; you need to overcome trials like this together in order to properly grow. I hope everything is straightened out soon.

-Luna

Albus's mood brightened instantly. Yes, there was still a problem with his wands! He had only been able to get three legs and a tail to his horse in Transfiguration; he'd definitely say that nothing had improved since he'd written. All he had to do was use his friends' wands for a while to see if it was too difficult, before he sent over his own wands to Luna.

He turned to Alec. "Luna Scamander is willing to give my wands a look-over!" he said excitedly.

"Oh, hey, that's great!" said Alec. "At least she's not just like all the other adults who instantly assume that you can't be right when you tell them it's your wands."

"Well, she does assume that," admitted Albus, looking back at the letter. "But she says that she can't risk being wrong, so if I send her my wands, she'll take a look anyway."

"That's as good as you'll get, I suppose," said Alec with a shrug. "So, you going to send them now?"

"No, because I'll have to borrow other people's wands while mine are gone," said Albus, "so Luna says I have to practice with my friends' wands while I still have mine, just in case I determine that I really can't go without my wands for a couple of weeks."

"Hey, no big deal, you can borrow mine for Transfiguration," said Alec. "Or you can borrow Holly's holly. I guess you could test to see which one you like better."

"Thanks," said Albus, "but I think I'll actually see if Exo would let me borrow his… I'd rather use a Gryffindor wand because they're in all of my classes, you know, so there's no constant switching. I'll probably need to use the other wand consistently."

"All right, if you say so," said Alec. "I gotta go find Mia; I'm taking her to Hogsmeade."

"And I gotta find Holly," said Albus.

Alec shot him an extremely excited wide-mouthed smile before he left.

Albus walked around to the other side of the Ravenclaw table and tapped Holly on the shoulder. She looked up sweetly as most of the Hall began to get up to leave.

"Shall we go?" he asked, and she promptly lifted herself up and took his hand.

O

It was more awkward than he'd expected. For some reason, he could never look her right in the eye for too long. He also felt terrible about how much he had been drawn to that beautiful girl Janelle at Beauxbatons, and found himself thinking about her when he clearly should have been thinking about Holly. When they went to the Three Broomsticks to try butterbeer, he almost tripped over all of the people inside, but tried very hard not to embarrass himself by doing anything stupid like falling down. He tried so hard not to fall down that he almost walked right past an open table, and then smacked himself in the forehead when he forgot to pull out Holly's chair so that she could sit—that was the gentlemanlike thing to do! Why was he forgetting all of his manners?

The butterbeer, however, made him forget all of his mistakes. It was warm and delicious, heating every single part of his body instantly; it was well worth the six Sickles he'd spent for his and Holly's.

But then, when they sat down in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop for a calm cup of tea and found themselves amidst all the kissing teenagers, it was very hard not to turn redder than the jet of a Stunning spell.

"Maybe we should go somewhere else for tea next time," whispered Holly as a couple behind her, which was only using one chair, toppled over backwards and struck her in the back of the head. She winced and sighed.

Albus thought about Patronuses, and Alec and Aidan telling him to kiss her, and he leaned in closer to her. Holly's smile hitched a little higher, and she stared up at him with those adorable little eyes, and he hoped he wouldn't screw it up—

But right as he was about to go in for the kiss, something caught his eye that he simply could not ignore.

Two of Madam Puddifoot's other customers were Lucas—and Roxanne. Sitting at the same table, and making eyes at one another.

Horrified, Albus leapt to his feet and stormed across the room, leaving Holly utterly bewildered in her seat.

"What're you doing?" he shouted at Lucas as soon as he was close enough.

Lucas whipped around and, when he saw Albus, groaned in exasperation. "What now?" he huffed. "I know you're jealous of me in class, but jealous of my date? Really?"

"I'm not jealous of your date, that's my cousin!" seethed Albus.

Lucas glanced over at Roxanne.

"I didn't mention it because you guys seemed to kind of despise each other," said Roxanne, shooting a nasty glare at the both of them.

"And I guess you didn't bother mentioning to her what a slimy git you are?" barked Albus.

Lucas recoiled a bit, and then asserted himself back. "At least I can get a table past three legs and a tail in Transfiguration!"

Roxanne slammed her chair to the ground and stormed out of the shop.

"Now look what you've done!" wailed Lucas. "We were just about to kiss, too!"

"DON'T YOU—EVER—KISS MY COUSIN!" roared Albus, and now the entire shop was watching. Holly was sinking further and further under the table.

"I'll kiss whomever I damn well please," hissed Lucas, "and if you could just let me have an afternoon to myself without screwing up life just like you screw up in class, Pot-head, I'd really appreciate it."

He got up to go chase after Roxanne; Albus pursued him outside of the shop and grabbed his wrist.

"I said, you're not allowed to date my cousin," snarled Albus, "and I meant it!"

"What're you going to do?" sneered Lucas. "Duel me?"

"YEAH!" erupted Albus. "Yes, I will!"

Lucas obviously hadn't been expecting Albus to accept the offer. He burst out into laughter.

"Really?" he chuckled. "You? Duel me? Fine; it'll only take a few seconds anyway. The trophy room at midnight."

"Wandless," said Albus with a smirk.

Lucas started, and Albus saw his confidence start to fade.

"Come again?"

"Wandless duel," repeated Albus. "You challenged me and you chose the time and place. I get to choose the weapons. And I choose—no weapons. We duel with wandless magic only." He tilted his head. "Unless, of course, you're worried about screwing up wandless magic just like you screw up in life."

Albus could sense Lucas determining whether it was rational to accept this offer. But although Lucas clearly knew that he was outmatched in wandless magic, his ego and anger clearly got the better of him. "You're on," he spat. "I'll take you down. Wandless magic or not, I'm better than you at everything, Potter."

"Good," said Albus. "I get to prove you wrong in a way you can't deny."

He turned and walked away, all the way back to the castle, a toothy grin on his face the entire time. Finally—finally!—here was his chance to turn the tables on Lucas. He'd been able to get Lucas so angry that the git had agreed to duel in the area of magic Albus knew he could beat anyone. Lucas probably thought they weren't going to do much apart from sitting there and staring at each other, trying to make something happen. What a fiery surprise he was in for. The power surging through Albus's veins had never felt more ready.

As he popped back into the Great Hall just in time for lunch, he suddenly flashed back to Madam Puddifoot's… and realized that he'd left Holly alone in the shop.

He collapsed into a chair and smashed his head against the table so hard that he left a bruise. It smarted for the rest of the afternoon.

O

Albus borrowed the Invisibility Cloak from James again and carried it down with him to the trophy room that night, smiling the whole way. Here it was. His big moment. His time to shine, and Lucas's time to burn.

He entered the trophy room, always unlocked, and stuffed the Cloak into his bag, staying in wait. It had just turned to midnight, and Lucas was already late. The stupid blond. Then again, Albus hadn't seen him leaving the common room. But it's not like he would have forgotten—if he chickened out, he and Albus would both know who was superior at that instant.

Albus stretched out his legs and started meditating a bit more, knowing that he had to keep himself loose if he wanted to take Lucas. It wasn't going to be easy, but he knew he could do it if he kept calm. He started to stretch.

"Where are you? Come out here!"

It wasn't Lucas's voice.

It was the voice of the caretaker, Alpheus Boderight.

Heart instantly picking up speed, Albus leapt over to his bag. He plunged his hand in, rapidly sifting for that silk-like material, and ripped the Cloak out; he threw it over himself just as the door flew open and the light of a lantern flooded the trophy room.

He stayed perfectly still, concealing both himself and his bag with the Cloak, his eyes searching the room to make sure he hadn't left any signs of his presence.

The tip of his shoe was sticking out from under the Cloak.

He pulled it back under with an involuntary intake of breath, and the lantern started moving towards him.

He cursed Lucas under his breath—the bloody slimeball must have set him up. He'd get Lucas back for this—he'd make Lucas's life hell if he was caught—

The lantern stopped in the middle of the room. Boderight looked around.

Maybe he hadn't seen Albus…

And then Tippy, Boderight's little Pomeranian, bounded in after him.

Tippy would be able to smell him out.

It was only a matter of time… Albus prepared to bolt if necessary. Even if Tippy noticed that someone was here, and even if Albus was heard, they wouldn't be able to prove it was him…

Tippy began advancing straight towards him…

But then Gimmick bounded into the room and smacked Tippy right on the nose. Tippy whimpered once, looked at Albus, looked at Gimmick, and backed away.

Boderight looked down at Gimmick. "Hey!" he shouted at the cat that had assaulted his dog, but then the two began to play, and he rolled his eyes and walked back out.

Albus exhaled deeply and clutched at his heart. He sat up on his bag and stared at the opposite wall of the trophy room.

He should have seen it coming. Lucas wasn't going to play fair.

Well, if that was the case… then from now on, Albus wouldn't be playing fair, either.

Somebody asked what was the "theory" of spells that I often refer to; what is the "magical theory" that the teachers keep saying their students have to know in order to work a spell properly; why did Albus's wands "need less theory." This is what I mean: As you know, magic is not just pointing your wand at something and saying words. There are mindsets and energies you have to invoke (a little more about that was mentioned in this chapter, but it's kind of abstract and don't worry if you have no idea what it meant) in order to properly perform a spell. For a Patronus Charm, the theory is thinking of a happy memory and letting that memory fill you. For the Cruciatus Curse, the theory is that you have to mean it, you have to enjoy the pain you're inflicting (though they wouldn't teach that in school). Albus's wand is so well-constructed that he probably will be able to power through the spells without learning as much of this theory as his fellow students; it's rather like the fact that someone who is really naturally gifted at writing or math will be able to do their homework with much less practice than someone who is not. The wand, in this case, is like the brain in math and writing; some wands are more naturally gifted than others.

Have a good week, everyone!