The Long Haul Competition
WC: 1,930
six geese a laying
The man in black slowed his broomstick as he approached George, who was standing in the middle of the path with his arms folded and a scowl on his face.
"Hello," the man said, quite pleasantly all considering. "You must be George. I had the pleasure of meeting your twin a little while ago."
"I do hope he's still alive, because if he isn't, I'll have to make your death much more painful. But if he is, I'll let you die easily."
The man in black raised his eyebrows. "And what makes you think I'll let you kill me?"
"Well, to be quite honest, I've been wrestling my brothers all my life, and so far, no one unrelated to me has been able to beat me in hand-to-hand combat. And, since my brother is the better dueler between us, I must insist on hand-to-hand instead of a wizard's duel. Unless you'd prefer to die dishonorably?"
"No, hand-to-hand combat is fine by me. Before we start, your brother isn't dead. Just Stunned."
George grinned. "Good! I promise to make this painless, then. Well, as painless as I can."
The man in black dismounted his broomstick, laying it carefully to the side and steadying his stance in front of George. "Likewise," he stated, and then the two men sprang at each other.
They were both strong, but George though he was a bit stronger. They threw punches, some being blocked and some landing, but neither was tiring.
After fifteen minutes of this sparring, however, George grinned. "Tired?"
"Not particularly."
"Your moves say otherwise." No sooner had the words left his mouth, however, the man in black made his move. Lightning fast, he darted in, delivering three strong punches to George's stomach. As soon as he was bent over, winded, the man in black clapped his hands over George's ears, throwing off his balance and causing him to stumble. He grabbed the redhead in a headlock and squeezed.
"You spoke too soon," he muttered as George passed out in his arms. "Funny, Weasley," he said, laying the boy down in the grass. He looked peaceful in his sleep.
"I always thought Fred was the cockier of the two of you."
Leaving his opponent behind, he swept up his broomstick and headed after Katie.
Zabini was behind Katie when the man in black arrived on the scene. He had one hand gripping her hair, exposing her neck, and his other pressed the tip of his wand against the pulse point just below her chin.
The man in black paused, warily stepping a few paces into the clearing so he was visible. He took in the situation; Katie's eyes were wide with fear, and Zabini had a wild grin on his face.
"So, you beat the twins. I must admit, you're talented."
The man in black said nothing. "So now, you stand before me. I have the upper hand; if you move, the girl dies."
Still no response. "Nothing? Are you giving up? Biding your time? Because I can kill her now if you like."
Katie's eyes widened even more, and she struggled against Zabini's hold.
"She clearly doesn't like that."
"No, she doesn't."
"Ah, so he does speak! Tell me, who is the man behind the mask?"
"Just a man."
Zabini shrugged. He didn't need to know. Besides, he could identify the man just as easily when dead. "And your purpose for following us?"
"The girl is more valuable to me alive than dead."
"Pity. She's more valuable to me dead than alive. Oh well. I guess I'll just have to kill you first." He pointed his wand at the man in black's chest.
"Wait! You're Blaise Zabini, correct?"
"Yes."
"You're the cleverest Slytherin that's graced the halls of Hogwarts. Perhaps you'll allow me to hope for a miracle."
Zabini laughed. "And what miracle could save you now?"
"A battle of wits."
Zabini paused. This man may be a better dueler than Fred, and a better fighter than George, but no one could outmatch him in a battle of wits. Besides, it would be much more fun to trick him rather than just kill him outright. The win would be all the more satisfactory.
"That miracle won't save you still, but I'll accept your challenge. A battle of wits—to the death!"
He waved his wand, and two chairs appeared with an elegant table between them. A small stool was placed near one. He pushed Katie down onto the stool, sitting in the chair next to her. In case she tried to escape, he spelled her to the stool and silencio'd her for added protection.
"There. Now the girl won't disturb us. What do you propose for our battle of wits?" he asked, as the man in black sat opposite him. "Perhaps you were a Ravenclaw and wish to compete in a battle of riddles? Though I should warn you, I once posed a riddle so difficult not even a Sphinx could work it out. She clawed herself to death in agony."
"No, I propose a battle of thinking," the man in black said, pulling out a small vial. "I have here a vial of Death-Cap Drought, a poisonous potion that is sightless, tasteless, and odorless." He conjured two goblets, filling them with water. "I will pour this potion into one of the vials while you are not looking, and then you will decide who drinks which goblet. Do you agree to these terms?"
Zabini grinned. This would be fun. "I agree. Go on, poison a goblet."
The man in black took both goblets, hiding them from both Katie and Zabini's sight as he added the poison, before placing them back in front of the two competitors.
"So, what to choose, what to choose…. of course, if you were stupid, you would have put the poisoned goblet in front of me, hoping I'd drink whichever goblet you placed in front of me."
The man in black simply sat there, saying nothing.
"However, if you were smart, you would have put the poisoned goblet in front of you, knowing I would be suspicious and thinking that I would then switch the goblets."
No response.
"Now, if you were even smarter, you would have known I would work out these two options and, in hoping I'd think you stupid, set the goblet in front of yourself so I would switch the goblets and bring the poison to myself. Or, hoping I would think you were smart, would place the poisoned goblet in front of me, hoping I wouldn't switch them. So… which is it?"
He thought for a second, then glanced up in shock, staring at something beyond the man's shoulder. "Oh no!" he cried, and the man in black whipped around to look for the supposed threat. Quick as a flash, Zabini switched the goblets before the man turned back around.
"Oh, I guess it was nothing. Well, I've decided. It's time to drink."
They both picked up their goblets, raising it in silent toast. "Bottoms up," Zabini muttered, before both men tipped back their heads and downed the drink.
As they set the empty cups on the table, Zabini grinned. "Guess what? I switched the cups while you weren't looking! I knew you wouldn't drink whichever one had the poison in it, so I switched them. As soon as you picked up your glass without hesitating, I knew you'd placed the poison in my glass and—" he suddenly stopped.
The man in glass smiled as Zabini's face turned purple and he fell from his chair.
"Is he dead?" Katie asked.
The man in black spit something out of his mouth before answering. "Well, seeing as his silencing spell no longer works on you, I'd say he is." He noticed her questioning glance at the object he'd spit out. "Bezoar stone. It's the only antidote to that particular poison. I poisoned both of the goblets." He took out his wand and quickly untied her hands.
"That's cheating!" she cried, shoving him hard.
"He was going to kill you, and you're mad at me for cheating?"
"You just killed a man, and you didn't even give him a chance!"
"Again, he was going to kill you."
"I would have found a way to escape!" she spat out.
He stood still, staring at her in such a way that she felt scrutinized and uncomfortable.
"Who are you, lass?"
"Katie Bell. Who're you?"
"The Dread Pirate Roberts."
Katie gasped. "You're responsible for the plane that went down over the Atlantic five years ago. The one that held the entire Puddlemere Quidditch team."
"Why, yes, I was."
"You killed him!" she shrieked, leaping at him and striking at every inch she could reach. She managed to land a few hits before he'd captured her wrists, holding the her at arm's length.
"Ah, I remember your name now. You were Oliver Wood's girl. He mentioned you. Would it help to know that he died honorably?"
"No, it does not!"
"Well, he did. He survived the first explosion, and I took him back to my ship with the others. Once I realized he had no important information, I asked him, 'Why should I let you live?' He knelt there, in front of me, and said 'I am but a man in love, and I only wish to return to my fiancée in England. If you let me live, I will return to her and live happily in want of nothing. But if you kill me, I shall die with her name upon my lips and her love in my heart.' He spoke of you as if you were the only woman in the world, and was so certain of your undying love. They were very beautiful words."
Katie's face was ashen, and she refused to make eye contact with the Dread Pirate Roberts. When she said nothing, he continued.
"I wonder how he would feel to know that you've betrayed him, promised your love to another man, one richer. You've traded in that poor boy for a celebrity just as easily as one might trade in an old broomstick for a better model."
At this, she looked up, her eyes filled with a cold fury. "You. Know. Nothing," she hissed. She stalked over to the chair Zabini had sat in, snatching up a satchel that had sat next to it.
"I have never loved anyone else in my life!" she yelled, throwing the satchel at him. He caught it, his eyes widening when he looked inside. He pulled out a small present with a number six drawn on it, the wrapping paper faded with age. "These were the last things he gave to me, and I could never bear to open them because doing so would mean he was gone. Really, truly, gone. The week before I was supposed to marry Roger, I went back to my apartment to get those because even still, on the brink of marrying my new "celebrity", I couldn't forget the old one! So don't talk to me about betrayal and love like you know how I feel! Just—Just go to hell!" she yelled, shoving him hard. He stumbled back, the present dropping from his hands as he lost his balance. She ran a few steps away, her back facing him and her shoulders shaking with anger and grief.
"As you wish," he said, his voice low.
She froze, turning around to look at him, really look at him.
"What did you say?"
"I said, 'As you wish'".
