Disclaimer: JK Rowling and assorted publishers own Harry Potter.

This is a work of fanfiction: no money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter 9

"Right," said Professor Vellum, eyeing the 30 or so students who'd turned up for the new session, "I take it you are all fifth-years and above, aren't you?"

Harry looked about the room as they all nodded their confirmation. Professor Flitwick and Madam Hooch had also come along to the session - he knew that Flitwick had been a duelling champion before coming to teach at Hogwarts, but that was duelling with wands. And Madam Hooch was the closest thing Hogwarts had to a PE instructor, he guessed.

Vellum called everyone to the front of the room. "Right, now understand that fencing is a demanding discipline, and as such I demand your complete attention during these sessions. I'm sure you'll all be disappointed to learn that we will be practicing with wooden canes to start with," her eyes twinkled in amusement. Of course, Harry thought, she was hardly going to let a room full of teenagers loose with swords. Worse luck.

"Mr Weasley," Harry suspected she'd picked on Ron because he was the tallest student present, and also the hair was a bit of a giveaway, "please could you pass the canes around?

"Now, before you even think of taking a swing with the cane, you must put on the face guards," Vellum indicated what looked like a collection of sieves, "although the arm protectors are up to you. For what it's worth, expect to get hit. Lots."

The class fumbled around putting on the face guards, and Harry decided to go for padding protecting his right arm - it was in two sections, for the forearm and upper arm, leaving the elbow free to move. He felt utterly ridiculous, but still, better ridiculous than blind - even though they were only using canes, it would still be relatively easy to lose an eye.

"Excellent. Now, Mr Weasley, if you could join me at the front, please. All we are going to concentrate on tonight is stance, and a basic thrust and parry. Positioning is everything, so pay attention to your feet."

Vellum then proceeded to demonstrate how to face an opponent, and how to lead and block. Harry was astounded at the liquid grace of Vellum's fencing - everything flowed naturally from one move to the next, whereas Ron was clumsy and uncoordinated by comparison. But then, be fair, thought Harry, Ron hadn't had half a century's practice.

"So, I want you to find a partner of equal height, and take turns to attack and block. Remember, keep your body loose - flow into each move. Be graceful. Don't force the speed - that will come later. Also remember the cardinal rule - no blows above shoulder height, and none below waist level. In fact, the only target this lesson is your opponent's sword arm."

Professor Vellum surveyed the assembled students with a steely glare, "if so much as one person breaks these rules, the entire club is suspended." She left them in no doubt that this was not an idle threat.

Before Harry could start looking for a partner of more or less equal height, Parvati had grabbed him. "Hi Harry, I'll be your partner," she announced, cheerfully.

"Er, OK," Harry agreed - he'd been expecting to seek out a male partner for the duelling, but, he supposed, she was the same height as he was, and that was the only stipulation they'd been given.

Mimicking Ron and Professor's starting places, they took up position opposite each other.

"Harry, do you remember the Champions' Ball last year?" Parvati asked, dangerously casually.

"Of course I do, we went together."

"Oh, 'went together' as in you we had ONE dance, and then you ignored me for the rest of the night?"

"Er..." said Harry, sensing, belatedly that some defensive work was necessary.

"That sort of 'went together'?" she pressed.

"Um..."

"I'm sure you can imagine how valued I felt."

"Ah..."

"Two hours getting ready. New dress robes specially made for the occasion..."

"Mmm," it was turning into a night of rare eloquence on Harry's part.

"The whole school watching my date pointedly ignore me for the whole evening..."

"Oh."

Parvati's eyes flashed: "Payback time... en garde!"

Harry raised his cane, rather as holding a wand in a wizard's duel, suspecting that Parvati would make the first move. She did.

"Ow!" Harry winced from a blow to the upper arm.

"Too slow," beamed Parvati, way too cheerfully for Harry's taste. "You want to block the blow before it lands," she added helpfully, an entirely superfluous piece of advice in Harry's opinion. "Ready?"

It didn't take long for Harry to realise that Parvati was seriously good at this.

"Just try to relax, Harry", encouraged Parvati, "you're all tensed up, which obstructs your poise..."

"I'm all tensed up because the prettiest girl in the year is destroying me in a fencing contest," replied Harry, finally managing to parry a right sided thrust successfully. "Maintaining poise isn't top of my list at the moment."

"Do you really think I'm pretty?" asked Parvati, pausing momentarily.

Harry, relieved by the break, continued talking before he'd thought his answer through fully: "Of course I do - you and your sister both. How did you get to be this good anyway?" Mention of her sister as competition appeared to have reminded Parvati that she was supposed to be annihilating Harry in this contest, and she picked up the attack again.

"Well, that's a long story."

"I'll buy you a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade next weekend," offered Harry.

"Do you know, no-one's ever asked me out at sword-point before," Parvati paused again, and feigned being mildly flattered.

"Stick point," corrected Harry, who realised that he'd gone a bit further than he meant to, but since Parvati hadn't (yet) turned him down flat, or (worse) burst into hysterical giggling, he decided to press for an answer.

"Was that a yes?" He asked.

Parvati, too, gave the impression that this had gone a bit further than she'd anticipated, as she paused a while before giving her response. "Yeah, that's a yes." She launched another flurry of attacks, "But don't think for one second that that makes things even..."

"Ow!" replied Harry, by way of confirmation, as Parvati landed another blow, this time to the forearm, causing him to drop the cane. Again. Fortunately, as he looked around at the other melees taking place in the classroom, it didn't seem as though he was being particularly inept.

Madam Hooch was paired with Dean (the hair didn't seem to be fading at all, he noted), but Flitwick was wandering about offering advice as and when - hardly surprising that he didn't have a partner, Harry mused, given that even he was at least a foot taller than the diminutive Charms professor.

Suddenly, Parvati's draw dropped with surprise, "Harry! Madam Trelawney's prediction!"

"What?" asked Harry, in his best are-you-completely-deranged voice.

"She said you'd lose a duel to a dark witch! And what am I if not dark?"

Harry frowned. If that was the prediction, it hadn't been spectacularly useful. "I don't know, I don't have much faith in Trelawney's Inner Eye."

"But don't you see, it fits?"

"Well, not really - Trelawney said I'd be vanquished, remember?"

"Don't tempt me..."

"Splendid! splendid!" cried Professor Vellum, as she called the session to a close. "The room is booked for the same time next week, for those who want to attend. Now, if you could all hand your canes in, I'll take them back to Professor Sprout in the morning."

"Actually Professor," volunteered Harry, "we have Herbology first thing tomorrow, so I'd be happy to take them for you." Ron rolled his eyes at his best mate, clearly affronted by Harry's creeping.

Parvati looked at him quizzically.

"Well," he said, "it's not as if she's going to notice if a couple of the canes are missing, is it? Damn!"

"What's 'damn'?"

"Well," said Harry sheepishly, "I meant to ask if you'd practice with me before I got hold of the canes." He turned on what he hoped was his best, endearing wide-eyed look.

Parvati gave him an appraising sort of look as she considered the request.

"You asked Parvati out?" Ron was stunned.

"Well, yeah, we were fencing and..."

"...and she said 'yes'?" now Ron sounded really stunned.

"Oh, thanks for the supportive comments. Much appreciated, mate. Anyway, yes. Cool session, though, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, Vellum said that I seemed to have a natural aptitude for swordplay. How did you do?"

"Er... Parvati slaughtered me..."

A disbelieving smile started to spread over Ron's face, "Parvati? No way. NO WAY!"

Hogsmeade weekends were always special, but this was the first time Harry had ever gone to Hogsmeade with a date. One of Hogwarts' limitations was that there were really only two places you could take a significant other - Hogsmeade and, of course, the Astronomy Tower. Given that there were usually only two Hogsmeade weekends a term, the Astronomy Tower could get pretty busy at nights.

Or so he'd heard, anyway.

Thankfully, the drizzle that had persisted for the previous two days had dried up, and whilst not exactly burning with sunshine, it was a pleasant enough day for mid September in Scotland as Harry and Parvati made their way towards Hogsmeade. Parvati had linked her arm through Harry's, and he'd decided this was a thoroughly companionable way to walk.

First stop was the Three Broomsticks, where Madam Rosmerta furnished Harry with a pair of butterbeers to take back to their table. "So," prompted Harry, handing Parvati her drink, "long story."

Parvati smiled, "Well, maybe not that long. We've got a brother, Sital, two years older than us," Harry noticed that Parvati always talked about family relative to 'us', meaning her and Padma. He assumed it was a twin thing.

Harry frowned, "Sital Patil? I don't think I know him - which house is he in?"

"He's not at Hogwarts," she explained, "he's, well, he's a squib."

Harry wasn't sure what to say to this - having grown up outside the wizarding world during the first eleven years of his life, he had no idea whether this was a Big Thing or a Huge Thing. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, hoping that it was more or less the correct response.

"Mmm," said Parvati, absently, before continuing, "oh, don't be sorry, he's fine, and he's happy, and not everyone can be a wizard.

"Anyway," she continued, "the thing is, growing up as a squib in a wizarding family is quite tricky. I mean, because of the near segregation between us and the Muggles, it's almost impossible for Sital to integrate into the Muggle world without leaving us completely. And we didn't want that.

"So he decided to pursue a career that straddled both worlds, the magical and the Muggle. He's a really, really good fencer. But because he had so few opponents to train against, he taught us to fence too."

"Wow. So Padma can fence as well as you?"

"Padma's better than me - more disciplined. You know me, a bit of an airhead at times, although I do confess that Lavender tends to bring out the worst in me. Still, I'm not bad, Padma's good, and Sital's brilliant." Parvati's eyes sparkled at this last sentence, and Harry could feel the pride she had in her family. He could never imagine feeling like that about the Dursleys, and as for his parents...

"You OK?" asked Parvati, "did I say something wrong? I mean, I love Lavender dearly, and she's my best friend in the world right now..."

"No no, I'm fine," replied Harry, "and it wasn't about the Lavender thing, although you are quite different without her. I was just thinking about how proud you were of your family, and, well..."

Parvati twigged, and her eyes widened in shock, "Oh I'm so sorry Harry, I didn't mean to go on about having family."

"Don't be silly - it's fine, you know, it's just that I keep on coming up against things that I've never had to consider before. I live with Muggle relations across the summers, and I hate them. Ron's family, and Hermione, are probably the nearest thing to a family I have. Not in the blood thing, but in the bonding sense. I think. I'm not making a lot of sense, am I?" he observed, apologetically.

Parvati took both her hands in his, and looked him in the eye, "You're making perfect sense," she assured him.

"It's just, you know, this thing," he pointed to the scar on his forehead, "it makes life difficult. I never knew my family, and I'm kind of famous because I survived what they didn't."

"More than kind of," she said gently, squeezing his hands lightly.

"I hate the fame. I hate people thinking that somehow I asked for this. That I enjoy it."

"Rita Skeeter, huh?" asked Parvati sympathetically, "although whatever happened to her? She seemed to stop writing after you won the Triwizard Cup."

"But you know, really, I'm just plain Harry," he continued, ignoring Parvati's question. Not that he wanted to ignore her, but he didn't want to lie about the Skeeter thing. Nor was he sure that he should tell her the truth either.

"Well, just plain Harry, you're pretty special to me," said Parvati, before adding with a grimace "would you like extra cheese with that? It was supposed to sound a lot more... sincere."

"Does that mean you're not averse to spending the rest of the day with me?" asked Harry, hopefully.

"Uh huh."

"And the fencing practice? You'd do that with me too," he persisted.

"I'd like that," she replied, "you weren't bad, actually, for a beginner - have you ever used a sword before?"

"Just once," confirmed Harry.

"Who was that against, then?"

"It wasn't a person, I fought Slytherin's basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets at the end of the second year, remember?"

"Wow. Just plain Harry, but by the way I singlehandedly defeated a basilisk when I was twelve..."

"Well it wasn't singlehanded," elaborated Harry, "Fawkes helped me."

"Who's Fawkes?"

"Oh, Dumbledore's phoenix," explained Harry, which resulted in Parvati's eyes twinkling.

"You beat a basilisk when you were twelve, and you're on first name terms with a phoenix?? You're the youngest seeker Hogwarts has seen in a century. And the youngest ever Triwizard Champion! And you seriously think that you're just plain Harry?"

"Well, OK, but apart from my part-time duty as sole defender of the Free World against the fall of the apocalypse, you know, I'm pretty much your average wizard."

"So Harry, any more secrets that you're not telling me?" Parvati asked, smiling.

Harry thought - well, Snape's a former Death Eater, and my godfather's a convicted criminal on the run from life imprisonment on Azkaban, even though he's innocent. I can name seven current members of Death Eaters in Voldemort's inner circle. Rita Skeeter's an unregistered Animagus.

I have an invisibility cloak and used to have the Marauder's Map. Filch is a squib. Lupin was a werewolf (but you knew that), and I didn't really win the Triwizard cup because Barty Crouch gave me an easy ride. The password to Dumbledore's office is likely to be some kind of Muggle sweet.

Neville's parents were Aurors, driven mad under torture by the Cruciatus Curse. Peter Pettigrew wasn't killed by Sirius black, and he too is an unregistered Animagus (there seem to be a lot of those about).

Gilderoy Lockhart used memory charms to appropriate other people's victories, and write them up in his dark arts books. Madame Trelawney has only made two successful predictions in her life, according to Dumbledore. I was the one who threw the firework into Goyle's potion that time in Potions when were we doing Swelling Solutions.

I've held the Philosopher's Stone in my hand. Hagrid hatched a dragon egg in his gamekeeper's hut. You can get past Fluffy, Hagrid's three-headed dog, by playing it some music. I've been inside the Slytherin common room, in disguise, and I broke into the prefects' bathroom outside of curfew.

Harry looked at her sadly. "Yes. Lots."

Parvati weighed the gaze of those green eyes. She could see that if he could tell her, he would. And maybe he might, in time. "Right, well can you tell our sole protector against the fall of the apocalypse that he'd better get lost for the rest of the day, because I have a date with just plain Harry, and he's mine."

"Right, I need some chocolate frogs, and some Bertie Botts beans," explained Harry, as they stood outside Honeydukes, "and I insist on getting my date something. What would Madam like?"

"Well," considered Parvati, affecting a cliched upperclass tone, "Madam would not say no to a bar of Honeydukes chocolate. Plain. Not milk, and definitely not orange!"

"OK, no white chocolate, no fudge," murmured Harry, as they made their way inside.

"What?" asked Parvati, perplexed.

"Oh, sorry," explained Harry, "Muggle thing - film quote... sort of tangentially appropriate, in a kind of roundabout fashion. A bit. Dean does it better. I've just wanted an opportunity to repeat that line in the real world, and figured that this was about as good a chance as I was ever going to have."

"I've had a really nice day, you know," said Parvati, linking her arm through his once more as Harry secured a major colony of chocolate frogs to take back to his dorm.

"So have I," replied Harry, warmly, "do you want to do this again?"

"Definitely, but I don't want to wait until December!"

"So are we... then?" it seemed awkward, not to mention a little silly, to spell it out.

Parvati kissed him briefly on the lips, "Yes, just plain Harry, we are."