Disclaimer- The Wizarding World and all in it belongs to JKR, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros, etc.
Author's note- So, long time. Sorry for the delay. This chapter initially was a pain to write, but the last half was perhaps the most fun I've ever had writing anything.
Tide's note- As always Rain keeps his readers hanging and as always he doesn't disappoint.
Sassy's note- Sassy here. Thankyou for reading this fantastic story thus far, I'm promising there's a lot of good quality coming up soon! The duel of the day has finally arrived and it got me excited. The imagination used for this is inexplicable and I really enjoyed reading through this chapter. Hoping you all are still as excited as I am!
Pensieves, I realized, relied a lot on shadows. There is no colour here, nothing to paint the world as it is, but the play of light, darkness and hovering shadows - just shadows.
We approached my past self quietly, keeping close to the swings and see saws, and true to my anticipation, the dark figure of an aged man appeared as if out of nowhere. Beside me, she tensed up, grabbing her wand tightly momentarily forgetting that we were in a memory.
"Do you know, Harry, who this man is?" She asked me quietly.
"No."
"The darkest and possibly the foulest wizard who exists. This is the Dark Lord Grindelwald. Who is supposed to be under incarceration in the safest prison in the world." Her voice grew shriller with a tone of urgency.
"We need to go now." She whispered.
Honour at Stake
"What did she want?" Tracey asked in a hushed tone, rocking back and forth on her bed.
"She told me to drop the duel. Merlin, you should have been there Tracey, it was terrifying." Daphne said while pacing around her dorm. "Can I even do anything now?! Sit back and watch Malfoy trot around with that smug smile - why, that bugger…"
"All eyes are on you Daphne, don't do anything stupid."
Daphne shot her a look and rushed to close the first year's dormitory door.
"What I am going to ask you now Tracey, is treason. If we get caught, we are done. So, back out now, if you want to."
"Out with it already, drama queen," Tracey muttered.
Daphne continued, "I need to talk to Potter. Heavens, he would have no idea just how serious this duel has become. Rumours fly that Jeremy himself was talking to Malfoy, and I saw him practicing with Bletchley myself. Trace, Malfoy may be a prick, but he is no slouch in duelling. Potter needs to know what he is in for."
"You need to get Potter to the third abandoned classroom on the second floor. You found it the first week, remember. And don't be seen with him, or even near him. We need to be careful, this is serious." Daphne finished in a tense tone, waiting for a response.
Tracey stared at her best friend for a good long while, began to say something, but quickly shut her mouth.
Then she whispered, "So, let me get this straight. You want to tutor Potter, to get him to beat Malfoy."
"Yes."
"And I need to convince Potter, without speaking to him, that meeting a potential Slytherin competitor is a good idea."
"Yes," Daphne said, a little hesitantly.
"And here I was thinking that this year would be a terrible bore." Tracey finished, grinning.
"Great!" Daphne exclaimed, "So, I have it all figured out."
Daphne held up her hand, counting off her plan using her fingers. "Granger will be at her spot, in the library. Firstly, you need to find out what she is studying. Then, you get a book of the same topic, and approach her, to ask a doubt. Meanwhile, in the book, you need to slip a brief note to her explaining the situation. They're Gryffindors, curious as kneazles, and will probably turn up."
"Daphne, Daph - seriously - notes, 'probably turn up', and Granger, that's your plan. Wow, thank your lucky stars you didn't try to do this without me." Tracey got up from her bed, and mock bowed. "Watch now, how a professional does it."
Saying that, Tracey patted Daphne on the head and walked out of the dormitory.
"Oh, I hope I don't regret this," Daphne said worriedly to the empty room.
Harry had been sitting idly at the Gryffindor table at dinner, listening to Lavender talk about some theatre show, when Susan Bones walked up to him.
Now Susan had been nothing but friendly, in the brief time they spent as classmates during Herbology, and Harry greeted her with a smile. Harry motioned to an empty spot across him, which Susan slid into after a moment's hesitation.
"Treacle tart! Yum." Susan said. She pulled Neville's side plate towards herself and helped a piece of the dessert onto it.
"I hear you have a big duel tomorrow, Harry. Prepared?"
"As prepared as I can be," Harry answered between bites. "Will you be watching?"
"No, though I suppose our class will get a spectacle of our own. Anyways, I didn't just come here to chat. There is someone you must meet after dinner."
"Who?" Harry asked.
"I'm not really sure," Susan answered. "So, Terry asked me to tell you this, and Michael told Terry about this, and apparently Michael was told to pass this information by Sally. It's all really confusing. I'm here, simply because I owed Terry a favour."
"Okay," Harry said slowly, and exchanged a look with Hermione. "Where is this meeting?"
"Second floor, empty classroom beside the portrait of Frederick the Forgotten."
"Don't mind me saying so, Susan, but all this is very fishy. Harry has a duel tomorrow, and suddenly someone wants to meet him, out of nowhere, that too in an empty classroom." Hermione reasoned.
Susan picked the last bite of her tart with a fork, and pointed it at Hermione. "I figured that. This didn't make sense to me, but you all might understand it better. 300 to 30. That was the last part of my message. I wouldn't recommend you to go, Harry, but that is just my opinion. Good luck for tomorrow. " Susan got up, and left them to their thoughts.
"You're not going to go, are you Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Wonder what this is about." Harry said absently. "Reckon I might have gone if I knew who wanted to talk, but it could be very unfriendly Slytherins behind this, for all we know."
"I know who's behind this." Ron's eyes grew large as he realized something. "It's Tracey Davis. 300-30, right. Cannons lost to Tornadoes last season, 300-30. I told her about the Cannons rivalry at the express, there is no way anyone else could know this."
"Tracey huh," Harry stated. "You both will come with me, won't you?
His two friends nodded.
In the said abandoned classroom, Daphne sat alongside Tracey, with her mood getting sourer as every minute passed.
"Tempus."
"They'll be here, Daphne. Will you relax?"
Daphne sat put for a couple minutes, before drawing out her wand again.
"Tempus."
"Merlin, Daph. Give it a rest." Tracey fished out a pack of exploding cards from her robes and held it out to her friend. "What do you say, a round of snap?"
Daphne took her face in her hands and started to tremble slightly. Then as her barrage of patience broke, she slammed her hands on the desk. "NO! No Tracey! I don't want to play snap. Merlin, why did I even bother! Have you any idea what will happen if we get caught. These Gryffindors will be the death of us."
"Don't waste your breath, Daph," Tracey muttered while shuffling the cards. "Anyways, makes no sense to shout at me. I mean, vent all you want, but I'm the one you dragged into this mess and you don't hear me complain."
Tracey cut the deck into two piles and handed one to Daphne. "Besides, what's the worst that could happen. They don't show, and we get stood up. That makes us 'not guilty' of house treason."
"You're right," Daphne said guiltily.
Shuffling her deck, Daphne turned all cards upside down and walked slightly away from Tracey. Then the two of them began to place cards one by one on their playing table. The rules of exploding snap were simple, if the two cards put down sequentially were the same, one of the players needed to say, 'Snap'. The faster player would get the middle pile of cards, giving them more breathing space to beat the other. If both of them missed, well, as the name suggests, the cards would explode. Same result if two mismatched cards were 'snapped'.
"Snap." Daphne picked up the middle pile of played cards, as they matched two Bulgarian trolls.
"Snap!" Tracey said, and gathered the middle pile.
And then began a long chain of sequences, where no two cards happened to be the same. The two of them put cards after cards, getting more and more engrossed in the game, till Tracey was left with hardly five cards in her hand.
Daphne placed a house elf card.
Tracey placed a Gringott's bank card.
Daphne placed a Goblin card.
Tracey yelled. "SNAP!" And the enormous pile of cards exploded covering both of them in a black sooty powder.
"Bloody hell!" Someone exclaimed from her right. Daphne squeaked in surprise, and turned to find Harry, Ron and Hermione, in an equal powdery state staring at the mess in front of them.
"How could you match a Building with a Goblin?" Harry asked incredulously.
"I panicked." Tracey wailed.
"You're late," Daphne said narrowing her eyes. "And we don't have much time."
"Hello, Daphne, nice to meet you too," Harry said in an amused tone. "You could have just stayed back after potions, or the duel, if you needed to talk. Considering the message trail, half of our batch would know about this 'secret meeting'." Harry emphasized the last part with air quotes.
Tracey stuffed the cards into her pocket and tutted at the Gryffindors. "I'll have you know, naive Gryffindors, that the message went through a very specific trail of people- who were either Hufflepuff enough not to venture out close to curfew, or Ravenclaw enough not to care -".
"-And this is not a fun group meeting, Potter." Daphne interrupted. "I will not be duelling tomorrow. Merlin knows how much I want to, but as the circumstances are, my house backs Draco Malfoy. And I am making sure that you beat the little chit to dust."
"Blimey, what do you mean your house backs Malfoy? It's just a class duel now, isn't it?" Ron asked her.
"Oh, you don't know the half of it. This duel is very significant. A wizard's duel always is. Gods it pains me to say this, but Malfoy is not that bad a duellist. We saw him trading spells in the pit, and that too against a second year." Tracey said nervously.
"Tempus." Daphne softened a little. "We have little less than an hour, Harry. Let's make it count. I know a lot about Malfoy's strategy. Ask me anything- "
"Hold on." Harry said raising his hand, slightly annoyed. "As much as I appreciate the thought, Daphne, I can handle Malfoy."
"Just offering help, Potter. You might need it." Daphne replied through gritted teeth.
Tracey and Hermione exchanged a quick look and edged slightly closer to the duo.
"And I might not." Harry responded with an equal glare.
The room grew colder every passing second, with the five students standing in a deadlock, saying absolutely nothing. After, what felt like an eternity, Daphne huffed, "This is stupid. I can't force you to accept my help. But listen Potter, if Malfoy pulls off this plan of his, that will affect me. And I will be very displeased with you, if you lose because you let pride come in the way. Merlin, I feel stupid."
Daphne pulled Tracey towards the door, not sparing a backwards glance. At the door, she stopped and looked back frowning slightly. "Good luck Potter, you have to win." Saying so, the two Slytherins walked off.
Breakfast, needless to say, was an interesting affair. Though the duel was supposed to be a hushed event, somehow everyone knew about it. And this time Fred and George had even set up a sort of betting pool, given the popularity of a Gryffindor-Slytherin standoff.
Harry was approached by a variety of folks, which included the Gryffindor prefect Nigel, a couple seventh year Ravenclaws and the Ravenclaw beater, who all wanted him to thrash Malfoy. Occasionally, a person would walk up to him, wish him luck and whisper somewhat urgently that he had to win, considering the fellow had bet everything on the Boy-Who-Lived. Understandably, Harry lost all of the little appetite he had mustered. He glanced at the Slytherin table, and found nothing but murderous glares being sent his way, mainly by the upper year students. Daphne too looked at him pointedly, with an expression that said - 'Whatcha' got', which actually gave Harry enough motivation to shake himself together and focus on the text in front of him.
"Now remember Harry," Hermione rambled on. "The Geneva convention disallows elemental transfiguration, or counjurings. You must keep the duel solely to jinxes and spellwork, nothing lethal. No dismemberment, slashing, hexes, or curses..."
Ron looked a little sick over his bowl of porridge. "Really Hermione," he said pushing the bowl aside. "Elemental transfiguration?! Percy doesn't know elemental transfiguration! And Harry won't be cursing Malfoy, not in front of Professor Alpharde at least." Ron looked at Harry slightly anxious, "Right Harry?"
Harry looked over from his notes, and mumbled something affirmatively.
The Slytherin tables, which had been relatively quiet this entire while, burst into a cheer as Malfoy walked in. Along with him entered Jeremy Stiels, who was talking to Malfoy about something. To his credit, Malfoy seemed very serious, nodding at Jeremy, and swishing his wand every few seconds. Harry suddenly felt sick at the thought of being underprepared. The Slytherins began to get louder, booing at the Gryffindor table and before things went out of hand, Snape - of all people- went over to his house and put a stopper at the exhibition. Harry, however picked up his books and stormed out of the hall, with his two friends exiting in quick succession.
"Don't let it get to you Harry," Ron said as they matched steps.
"I'm fine." Harry said, with a terse smile. "Just want to be done with this duel."
"Come now Harry, have a little faith in yourself." Hermione coyly said as they went past the Entrance Courtyard. "You've worked hard for this duel, and you didn't need a seventh year to prepare you for it."
Harry nodded, not really sure how to respond to that.
"Welcome, welcome to the first interhouse first year duel of the year. As extra credit given for submitting a fabulous assignment, I, Terry Boot will be commentating on today's highlight duel, where Gryffindor's Harry Potter will go against Slytherin's Draco Malfoy."
A huge cheer broke out in the defence classroom. The clear anticipation of the duel won over the fact that a random Ravenclaw was running a commentary, and the audience went along with it. Ravenclaw was mostly neutral anyways. Professor Alpharde was on the stage, which was different from the one the had during classes. Instead of a long rectangular stand, this was circular pit.
The two houses stood around the periphery of the pit, where the safety bannisters we're already in place. Harry ignored the dipping feeling in his stomach and accepted the cheers with a smile plastered to his face. Bending below the bannisters, he jumped into the pit, facing Malfoy who, for once was dead silent. Boot was sitting somewhere higher that everyone, pointing his glowing wand to his throat.
Professor Alpharde raised his hands, and the noise downed out.
"Duels make statements. No one ever wins a duel if they don't care to put their pride, their honour at stake. And it takes heart to put down all your worth, and have nothing but your wand to defend you. Unfortunately, your curriculum hasn't covered shields, so we must accommodate."
With a swish of his wand, the ground began to tremble and rocks began to emerge from underneath them. Harry, who wasn't expecting this, backed himself against the pit, watching ahead as Malfoy went out of sight. Once the protruding rocks were head level, Professor Alpharde broke the spell. The rocks were distributed somewhat oddly, with a slight advantage to where Malfoy stood. "These will defend you against jinxes," Muric addressed the two. "As you see, the rock formation favours Mr Malfoy, who is well defended. The advantage shifts to Mr Potter in ninety seconds, and then again to Mr Malfoy."
The room began to buzz with excited whispers. "This is neat." Ron exclaimed. "I've never heard of obstacles in a duel before!" Harry surveyed his location, walking around a bit, looking for an angle to aim at Malfoy.
"I want a clean duel. As customs dictate, the duellists will walk upto each other, bow, and start at my count of three. And Mr Boot, if I hear you spilling any tactics of any duellist, I'll vanish your stand. Wands at ready!"
Harry drew his wand and approached the centre of the pit. He looked around one final time, amazed at the details of his surroundings. He saw Ron, Hermione, and his other Gryffindor pals with mixed expressions of worry and excitement. Professor Alpharde had exited the pit, and was watching their moves like a purple robed hawk. And lastly, there was Greengrass, with her calculating gaze. Shaking his head, he looked determined at Malfoy as they came to a metres distance.
They bowed. They lifted their wands at ready. Turned. Harry could hear his heart thumping, as adrenaline pumped in his veins.
" One…" He reached where he had started from.
" Two…" He turned to face Malfoy.
"Three!"
Harry dived to his right, behind a rock, just as a spell whizzed past his ear at the point he was standing. Scrambling to his feet, he pushed his back against the rock. With slight trepidation, he peeked from the corner and saw Malfoy standing with his wand ready, disregarding any tactical advantage, aiming down at his rock. Harry jerked his head back as another knockback jinx landed where he was a second earlier.
"And Malfoy has clearly taken the offensive approach, trying to end this duel in its early stages. A typical move, to waste the situational advantage by the Slytherin duellist."
Terry's analysis received a lot of indignant remarks and boos from the Slytherin audience, while the Gryffindors cheered him on. Harry however, couldn't afford to lose concentration at this stage. He prepared himself, and launched towards the adjacent boulder, sending jinxes loosely where he knew Malfoy was. The occuring barrage of Flipendos and Rictusempras forced Malfoy to take cover, and bring changes in his strategy.
As seconds ticked by, Harry began to feel confident and the Gryffindors grew louder. He was successfully flanking Malfoy from his right, one rock to another, and his spells had yet to miss his intended mark. And then it happened - Malfoy tripped while trying to hide, and went sprawling towards the Gryffindor segment, losing grip on his wand. Harry jumped at the opportunity and bellowed, "Petrificus Totalus."
The spell went whizzing, straight at Malfoy's exposed torso, and would have definitely hit, that the rocks suddenly moved. The moving rock intercepted the spell, giving Malfoy a wide berth to collect himself and his wand. Harry swayed from exhaustion as the body bind spell missed the target.
That's when the depth of the situation hit Harry, that this duel was not a display of duelling power. The two of them would likely faint from exhaustion from all the running and spellwork, before they could incapacitate each other.
"And the tactical advantage, once again goes to Malfoy, who has succeeded in taking the Gryffindor position as the first change occurs." Terry Boot commented from his stand.
Harry stood behind his rock, panting, with a pronounced sinking feeling in his stomach, realizing that he had played right into the hands of the opposition. The successful flanks, and Malfoy retreating - all a setup. Harry took a deep breath, and shook himself together. Malfoy was making mistakes, giving him chances, no doubt, and he wouldn't get lucky every time. Harry peeked from his right towards the Gryffindor stand, and failed to see Malfoy anywhere. He took another step forward, hoping to catch any hint about Malfoy's position. Instinctively looked at the stand where Ron and Hermione stood, and what he saw were expressions of pure and utter horror.
"FLIPENDO!" Shrieked Malfoy from Harry's left, giving no space, and no chance of missing. The blow struck him right at the gut, and Harry flew a couple metres back, his left arm hitting a boulder. A couple of shrieks resonated through the hall, as Harry felt the world go dizzy. Fortunately, the blow itself wasn't enough to knock him out, but Harry knew Malfoy would charge in, and he needed time.
"Fumos." Harry muttered hazily, and a black smoke streamed out of his wand.
"And Malfoy lands the first hit by rushing around Potter's left. That must have hurt! And here it is - smoke to buy time. Potter is very well in this duel." Terry continued.
Harry brought himself up, nursing the bruise on his left arm.
"Fumos, is one of the exceptions to elementalal transformation, and is acceptable per the Geneva convention. It factors the accuracy of any incoming spells and is most commonly used as a defensive move." Terry Boot explained as the Ravenclaw in him awoke. "And defense is what Harry Potter must be plan - Holy Smokes!"
Against all speculation, Harry charged back to the Gryffindor base, sending in a barrage of Flipendos, not at head level, but rather at the ground, causing dust to encircle half the arena. Malfoy panicked, as the dust made it difficult to make out Harry's position, and he left his cover, afraid of getting flanked like earlier. Harry, however was done with hiding and waiting, and emerged out of the dust storm he had created, catching Malfoy completely and utterly off guard.
"FLIPENDO!"
"LOCOMOTOR WIBBLY!"
Harry's knockback jinx hit, with the marksmanship of a hitwizard, right at Malfoy's wrist. An extremely risky place to aim for, but if connected, the wand would certainly fly out of the grip of the recipient. And that's what happened with Malfoy's outstretched hand. His wand flew off, and the sheer force of Harry's spell broke his wrist, much to his agony. Malfoy crumbled in pain, sobbing as he clutched his arm.
Harry fell to the floor too, as Malfoy's unconventional Jelly Legs jinx hit him. His lower limbs failed to obey his commands, and he brought his wand to his legs to cast the counter curse.
But for the life of him, he couldn't remember it.
It was nothing spectacular, nothing taxing, just a simple incantation which Harry racked his brain for. The crowds grew louder and louder, and Harry felt a pressure he never felt before. His mind grew numb as he panicked, but he couldn't do anything. He lay there, on the ground, wand pointing awkwardly to his legs, with his mind completely blank. Completely. Blank.
"F-Flipendo…" Malfoy stuttered through the pain, casting with his wrong arm. The spell connected and Harry's wand flew out of his awkward grip. It took all that was left in him not to scream out in frustration, as he witnessed Malfoy staring at him with immense hatred. He'd lost. Harry knew that he had lost.
Malfoy trembled with anger, pain and humiliation. His wand wrist hissed in pain and he lost all composure he brought to the duel. All he wanted then was Potter to pay, to fear - "SERPENSORTIA!" He shouted and a black serpent shot out of his wand, baring his fangs, straight at its victim.
Harry watched helplessly as the snake was conjured. He would never forget the way the snake was falling towards him, and the immaculate interception of a spell with the snake's body. Hardly for a split second had the snake come into existence that it met a golden spell, which wiped it out, burning it, till not even ashes remained. Half a second later, Malfoy was disarmed with such a force that his wand flew all the way across the pit, towards the end of the room.
But Harry knew he'd lost. No matter what the convention said, he had lost.
"The winner, by default, is Harry Potter!" Terry announced as the Gryffindors broke into a cheer, once again. "Malfoy violated the conjuration clause of the convention, causing immediate disqualification. I, for one, had not expected this outcome. But, the verdict of the first interhouse first-year duel stands - Gryffindor wins!"
Professor Alpharde walked down the arena, and casted the counter-jinx on Harry. Slowly getting up to his feet, Harry stowed his wand and stood blankly amidst the cheers. "As decided," Professor Alpharde addressed the gathering, "Slytherin house will submit the two essays on Monday." Half the hall broke into cheers while the other groaned. "Now scoot off, everyone, and get on with your day. Potter, stay back. Ms Parkinson, would you be so kind to escort Malfoy here to the hospital wing, thank you. Boot, don't try and jump out of that stand, I'll get it down, good work kid!"
The hall started to empty out with overlapping hushed conversations. Harry picked himself up, out of the pit and walked to the adjoint office of the duelling master, not keen on talking to any of his Gryffindor mates. He entered the cold office and sank into one of the chairs, livid at himself. A few moments later, from a now quiet hall, Professor Alpharde entered.
"Congratulations Potter, on the victory, if you can call it that."
Harry looked down, wincing at the sarcasm.
"Your wand movement is overly dramatic. Situational perception - zero. The only bloody thing you did right the entire duel was creating smoke, and that too you charged out of without a plan. I'd say you lasted that long, only because Malfoy couldn't stop tripping over his own feet. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Harry shook his head.
"And I'll be kind enough not to talk about the last minute nervous breakdown you had. It happens to the best of us. But what I do expect from you is a detailed foot long parchment, listing out your mistakes, and what you could have better in the situation."
Harry nodded meekly, as his eyes stung. "Sir," he said softly, "It wasn't a breakdown. I forgot the incantation."
"Come again." Muric said, his voice dangerously low.
Harry shook himself together, and looked on straight, talking a little louder. "I knew what I had to do. But I couldn't counter the jinx, as I couldn't remember the incantation."
The room went silent for a long pause, after which Muric leaned back into his chair with his shoulders slumped. "That's a relief."
"A relief?" Harry questioned, surprised.
"I had assumed you couldn't handle the fact that you had broken the boy's wrist and that he was in pain. One gets into a state of shock, sometimes, in such situations, and the only way one can handle it, is to put themselves in such a situation again and again, till it doesn't affect them anymore."
Muric fiddled with a quill on his desk. "But seeing that you actually had the stomach to land the final blow, and just couldn't do so because of your negligence in classwork, comes to me, somewhat, as a relief."
"Negligence?"
"Don't colour yourself surprised, Mr Potter. Your essays have gotten vague over the weeks, you're missing details, clearly not practicing enough in the practical lessons. Your focus is askew. Have a look for yourself - Accio Harry Potter's essays." The professor made a beckoning motion with his wand, and from a pile of parchments, half a dozen flew towards him, stacking themselves neatly on the table. Harry walked towards the pile, and saw a scratchy 'A' written on top. Shuffling the papers around, he noticed it clearly, how his work standards had been falling.
Muric opened his desk and brought out another parchment, which Harry recognised to be his last week's submission. "Just look at this. Blatant copying from my text. Factual errors." Circling a paragraph, he continued, "You clearly made this one up." Progressing through the parchment, he scratched and circled all of Harry's mistakes, leaving Harry red and flustered.
"Now look for yourself Mr Potter, does this deserve even a passing grade? If I wanted my text copied, I would have used the gemino charm." Turning back to the start, he scribbled an 'A' on the top. "I cannot fail you, because what you have written, is largely correct, but this is not what I want from the assignments. I want students to think, to understand situations and write what they theoretically would have done. Duelling is a lot about situational improvisation, students never get that."
Harry placed the parchment back on the table, stumped as to what his next statements should be. Professor Alpharde continued, with a somewhat kind voice.
"It's just the beginning. Pull yourself together, and work earnestly. I want your submission on Monday to be significantly better than this one. Now off you go."
Harry thanked the duelling master, and walked out of the office where his two friends stood, holding his book bag.
For some odd reason, the sinking feeling he had all day, had vanished.
Fic Recommendation- This fic is really one of the best ever, and I'm devastated that it is not novel length. I'm sure you all will get drawn to the storytelling in this one, so do check it out- 'Negligentia', by Murkatroyd.
Now, as all my characters are appropriately placed and defined, I can begin my plots and schemes. Keep an eye out for it. Please review.