"Excited for the duelling club, Sally?" asked Ginny at breakfast. The little redhead was practically bouncing up and down in her seat. There had been no need to worry about odd looks from their classmates, since the Great Hall was still relatively empty.

"Certainly," Hermione nodded, absentmindedly cutting a piece of toast in half. "I can see that you are too?"

"Oh yes! I always knew Hogwarts would be exciting, but I can't believe so many cool things happened already!" Ginny's face split into a brilliant smile, something that Hermione got to see much more often this past week. She was glad that Ginny had gotten over her discovery that "Tom" no longer wrote back to her. The girl had moped over the black book for the first few days, during which Percy had repeatedly scolded Fred and George for upsetting her with their jokes (something they were not entirely innocent of). But eventually Ginny had put "Tom's diary" away and carried on with her life.

Ah, Tom... He must've had quite an effect on Ginny, to make her mourn his loss for so long. He'd have to make himself her friend, attentively listen to her and reply back with care. But then again, he had strong incentives for doing so. From the diagnostics Hermione conducted on the real diary yesterday, it seemed that the soul fragment within it had been permitted to temporarily wander out of the host object. This would possibly enable it to possess someone susceptible - that is, weak-willed, overly trusting, or overly attached to it. In fact, Hermione now highly suspected that one of the two most recent charms was making the diary seem friendlier.

Hermione filed this away with the composite image of Voldemort that she was slowly developing in her mind. Such a pity, that all this should be used for all the wrong things. He could've been brilliant, not this disgrace upon her family and her house...

"...Sally?" Ginny waved her hand in front of her eyes. Hermione looked down and saw that her toast and fork were still hovering between her mouth and her plate, and hastily took a bite. "You kind of spaced out just then. Not fully awake yet?"

"Possibly," Hermione laughed softly, "I'm glad you're liking Hogwarts."

Ginny bobbed her head. "I had flying lessons yesterday. Ron got me so excited about those, and it was every bit as fun as he said. I can't wait to watch Harry fly at the Quidditch game!"

"Oh, yes, it's tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Well of course! Where've you been all year?" Ginny stared incredulously. "Anyways, Colin said the Slytherin team's got really cool brooms this year. Their seeker's very mean, though - I think it's the same guy whose dad got into a fight with our dad in Diagon Alley. Apparently his dad was the one who bought their brooms, and he started waving it in the Gryffindor team's face yesterday. Colin said Ron got mad and tried to curse him, but it backfired on himself and he started barfing slugs - I tried to ask Ron whether it was true. He wouldn't talk about it."

Hermione confirmed that it was.

Ginny snorted. "Now I know. Colin didn't manage to get a good picture."

"Ah, about Colin," Hermione was about to say when her necklace warmed, signaling that Lockhart was writing to her again: 'Salazar, I need your help! I don't know what to do, and there's hardly any time left to decide!'

"What about him?" Asked Ginny.

"Oh it's not much. Just, if you see him again, could you ask him to stop taking so many pictures of Harry? I don't think Harry likes it very much." Hermione refrained from furrowing her brows as she directed the invisible quill to reply. What trouble could he have gotten into so early in the morning? 'What is the problem, Gilderoy?'

'Should I wear plum or emerald today? Which one would look better at a duelling club? Emerald is a classic, but plum would add a nice, unique flair.'

...The moron!

"... be so disappointed, poor Colin. But I'll try to tell him, I guess." Hermione was so preoccupied trying not to facepalm or display any outward sign of her immense irritation that she'd missed the first part of Ginny's reply. Her temples were starting to buzz slightly - a mild side effect of the invigoration draught, aggravated by stupidity.

"Thanks, Ginny," she managed to ignore the ache and smile while she wrote back, calmly so that her calligraphy wouldn't change, 'Plum suits you better, Gilderoy.'

Emerald was a colour she'd rather not have associated with an idiot.

Hermione talked with Ginny some more, then with Neville when he arrived cheerily. Harry and Ron eventually appeared as well, still speculating who would be hosting the duelling club. Thanks to last evening's events, in addition to Flitwick, McGonagall and Lockhart, the pool of possible candidates had now expanded to include Nearly-Headless-Nick, the Baron, and even Cadogan's painting. Then Seamus pointed out that Cadogan couldn't teach them, since according to the legends he'd already broken his wand by the time he charged at the dragon on the fat pony.

Sometime in the midst of this, Malfoy strolled in while smugly listing to his two goons all the curses he would use on some "mudbloods" at the duelling club. This earned him multiple hateful glares from everyone who heard him and wasn't wearing green ties, and a few not entirely successfully concealed apprehensive looks from those who were. Hermione was once again reminded that something need to be done about him, and probably a handful others as well, or they would undo her work - once again.

Finally, after thirty minutes, Lockhart finally appeared in a deep plum robe set. Thank goodness.

The rest of the day passed rather quickly, and soon it was the time that everyone was anxiously waiting for. At 8 o'clock, the tables in the Great Hall had been temporarily vanished, and a golden stage had been set up along one wall. Lockhart stood in the center of the stage and beamed at the gathered students, flanked by a happy-looking Flitwick and an expressionless Snape.

"Gather round! Gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!

"Now, Professor Dumbledore had an excellent idea to start this little duelling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves. My colleagues have, of course, invited me to share some of my expertise in this area, since -" he flashed his white teeth, dazzling Lavender and quite a few other girls "- I've had to defend myself on countless occasions - for full details, see my published work. But remember, this is their show, after all! I'll just say a few words, then I'll let them have the spotlight."

Harry snorted at that, though he wisely kept himself quiet. "You think he can manage it?"

Hermione certainly hoped so.

"The first thing you need to know about duelling," smiled Lockhart knowledgeably, "is the proper posture. Good duelling form will help you a long way, since it increases your agility and accuracy. This is the most versatile form:"

He took a step forward, so that his body was facing the end of the stage, and raised his wand arm. Hermione was glad to see that he'd executed it fairly correctly. She had spent some time sketching and labelling her diagrams to ensure this, after all. "You'll notice that my side is facing my opponent, and my knees slightly bent, to allow for quick movement from side to side. This lets me dodge oncoming spells, and gives my opponent a smaller target area. My feet are shoulder width apart, for stability - especially important if I cast a shield to block my opponent's spell. My wand is raised just below eye level. This makes it easy for me to aim my spells, while giving my arm plenty of freedom to execute the wand movements perfectly. My back is straight, for balance... Not to mention it makes me look more dashing, no?" Lockhart finished with a rather obnoxious wink, but thankfully the merit of his "pointers" meant that no one was repulsed too much.

Lockhart then had everyone try this toward the stage, while Flitwick, Snape, and himself went around the room to correct students.

"This feels a bit like the flying lesson in first year," Ron remarked.

"Hopefully nothing disastrous happens this time," Neville gulped, remembering how he'd slipped off his broom and had to go to the hospital wing. But then he became much more confident. "But I don't think I'll get hurt badly this time. I can cast the shield charm if anyone tries to jinx me."

After about fifteen minutes, the professors made their way around the hall and returned to the stage. "All yours, Filius!" Lockhart waved dramatically.

Hermione let out the breath she'd been secretly holding since morning when Lockhart dutifully stepped off the stage, honouring their agreement. Flitwick demonstrated "Expelliarmus" by disarming Snape, who had been holding his wand out in good humour. Following this, the students were split into pairs to practice disarming each other. This went fairly smoothly, even when the partners were from different houses. Everyone adhered to the "disarm only" rule, and whoever succeeded would kindly hand the wand back to their opponent - with the exception of Malfoy, who'd managed to disarm Goyle and was now taunting him about it.

Harry had successfully disarmed Hermione six times now, she was pleased to see. Ron and Seamus had to take turn, to avoid any more mishaps with Ron's broken wand after the slug incident. Neville hadn't disarmed Justin Finch-Fletchly yet, but he came very close.

At 9 o'clock, Flitwick wanted to call up two students who could confidently cast the disarming spell to demonstrate. "How about Miss Granger? I'm sure you have no problem with this spell."

Hermione stepped up to the stage. As she did, she distinctively heard Malfoy snort.

"Now Miss Granger, is there any one you would like to challenge?"

Hermione glanced around, intending to call either Blaise, Theo, or Harry. But then her gaze just happened to sweep over Malfoy's arrogant, sneering face.

She'd found her opponent in an instant.

"I challenge Draco Malfoy," she announced clearly and coolly. As the words left her mouth, Hermione was rather surprised that she actually got angry for a moment. Apparently the headache was making her incredibly short tempered.

But she didn't have a lot of time to ponder this before Malfoy swaggered up to the stage and faced her with a condescending smirk. Hermione smiled back respectfully, as was customary of any duellist with any class when facing their opponent.

"It is customary for each of the two participants of a wizard duel to name a second - that is, someone to take over in case you are unable to continue. The challenger must defeat both his opponent and his second to win," said Flitwick, "the wizards or witches named as seconds are also responsible for ensuring that their opponents obey the accepted combative rules. Now, Miss Granger, who would you name as second?"

"Harry," Hermione said, glancing toward her friend and receiving a nod.

"And Mr. Malfoy?"

"Professor Snape's my second," smirked the blond to the shock of the whole room. Even Snape looked surprised at Malfoy's nerve, though he accepted with a silent jerk of his head nevertheless.

"Al...right," said Flitwick hesitantly, "now you will bow to your opponent."

Again, per customs, Hermione gave her opponent a proper bow. Per habits, she still made sure to keep her eyes on her opponent at all times.

Malfoy didn't bow, and merely jerked his head rudely when urged by Flitwick and Snape.

Flitwick sighed. "And now you will begin on three. One... two..."

"Expelliarmus!" Malfoy shouted on two.

"He cheated!" shouted Harry, but Hermione had already dodged the spell and returned her own. Malfoy gasped and dodged the disarming spell with difficulty, nearly falling over in the process. "Flipendo!" Malfoy shouted, his pale face flushed with rage, then drained with surprise as Hermione's shield charm deflected it directly back toward him. Unprepared for this, he was hit squarely in the chest. He looked a bit dazed, she saw, but as expected there wasn't enough power in his original spell for the weakened rebound to knock him off his feet. Throwing an arm out to regain his balance, Malfoy gritted his teeth and shot a pus-squirting hex, a cutting hex and a head-swelling hex at her - all of which she'd redirected to the ground near his feet, knowing that their effects would not be pretty. Eventually, Malfoy was hit squarely in the forehead by a rebounding stinging charm. "Expelliamus," she cast as Malfoy automatically raised his wand hand to touch the sting, and watched his hawthorn wand fly into her waiting hand.

"Excellent casting of the disarming spell, Miss Granger! And the shield charm, a third year level spell, as well!" Applauded Flitwick, taking Malfoy's wand from her and returning it to its sullen and red-faced owner. "And while Mr. Malfoy's spells rebounded, they were obviously quite well cast. Bravo to both our student volunteers! Now -"

"Professor Snape's Draco's second!" Shouted Goyle before Flitwick could move on, "Granger has to duel him still!"

And the Great Hall suddenly quieted at this surprising prospect sunk in. A student was supposed to duel a professor?

It was necessary by the rules of duelling, of course. As challenger, she was required to face her opponent's second, no matter who he was. Now, she could simply stand there and let herself get hit - since Snape would be only aiming to disarm at first. But on the other hand, some semblance of a duel with Severus could be educational for her. Her opportunities to practice with a live opponent was scarce, and as Godric's philosophy rightly maintained, practical experience was highly important too.

"Indeed," muttered Snape. "Hermione Granger, I take Draco Malfoy's place as your opponent."

They both bowed and began with a round of disarming spells. All were dodged, even as the firing rate steadily increased on both sides and Snape began to cast nonverbally. Clearly, more varied attacks must be used, or the duel would likely drag on till past midnight.

Eventually, Snape cast a very small nonverbal blasting spell at her. Having expected some sort of relatively wide-area spell to end the endless game of dodging by now, Hermione was able to easily brace herself behind a shield charm before the spell impacted. Still dodging her "expelliarmus", Snape shot three targeted spells at her in quick succession before casting confringo again, but stronger this time. These, too, were either dodged or blocked. Snape didn't use the shield charm against her spells, preferring to dodge them instead so that he could free up his wand to attack and end the duel. Hermione observed his eyes narrow slightly in concentration as his casting pattern gradually became more and more complex.

Snape was starting to cast what should be another wide-area spell, judging by his attack pattern and the slight variation in his wand movement. And Hermione was preparing to cast a shield to counter it, when she thought she saw wands being raised in the corner of her eyes. She was no stranger to ambush, having had a fair share of first kidnappers, then assassins, in her previous life. And so even before her would be attackers could start to speak the incantation of their spells, her left hand already shifted by instinct to cast a second shield...

... But she wasn't supposed to cast wandlessly or silently, she suddenly realized, just in time to stop herself. She'd have to dodge, then... But her first shield wasn't supposed to be strong enough to withstand the impact from both sides either, so she'd have to worry about Snape's oncoming spell as well...?

She heard the muttered spells now among the hushed audience, and knew that she was running out of time - but somehow, her brain felt as it it'd sunk into molasses, and simply throbbed in protest as she urged it to run faster. How in the seven hells was this happening? No - focus!

The shield shattered, and an incredible wave of pain rippled and reverberated through her chest and back. As her world flashed white, then faded to black, the last thought on her distracted mind was,

'I really need to sleep.'

Why? Why? Why?!

What in Salazar's name possessed him to use the blasting curse on a student?!

Ignoring the screams from the students, Severus dashed to the other end of the duelling platform. The girl was breathing steadily enough, he saw with relief. No broken ribs either - at least not on the front. It was fortunate that she'd managed to protect herself from the brunt of his spell before her shield failed...

'And of course it would shatter!' The largest part of his mind berated him, 'That was your objective, wasn't it? Are you proud of yourself, Professor Snape?'

Yes, what the hell was he even trying to do in the first place? He'd been only aiming to disarm her so that they could finish this stupid duel that Malfoy's brat had roped him into quickly, but somehow she kept either dodging or shielding. So he slowly increased power to knock her off balance first. He did.

'But don't you realize that you could've just ended the duel any time by simply standing still? You only had to duel, not duel to win!' His mind was yelling at him again with staggering wisdom that, he wished, could've made itself present sooner, 'She was only casting expelliarmus at you anyways! How much would that hurt?'

And then the remainder of his spell pushed her backward into the path of three bludgeoning hexes that would've otherwise missed - courtesy of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

In the background, Severus could vaguely make out Filius shrieking at Malfoy for attacking a classmate behind their back, Potter giving Malfoy a faceful of bat bogey hex while claiming that it was his right to do so as Granger's second - then disarming Malfoy before he could retaliate, and Filius holding Crabbe and Goyle back before they could jump on Potter in retaliation. Severus would deal with those three brats later... But he couldn't say it was all their fault, Severus shamefully remembered. His own lapse of judgement was to blame for this as well. Three students attacked their classmate right under his nose, and he was... too preoccupied duelling a twelve-year-old?

Severus gently levitated the girl to take her to the hospital wing. She looked as it she could be waken, but it was better to be careful.

"Oh dear, dear, dear!" Lockhart seemed to have climbed onto the duelling platform as well. "Allow me -"

"No, Poppy is capable of take care of her," Severus pushed past him distractedly,

" - Rennervate!"

The spell made a sickening whip-like crack through the air.

Instead of waking, Granger gave a strangled gasp before her head rolled back to the side. "Ah, s-seems she's too hurt to be waken, eh?" Lockhart shuffled back when Severus rounded on him, "better take her to the hospital wing, Severus..."

Severus barely refrained from informing Lockhart just how fortunate he was that levitation required the use of a wand, and headed for the hospital wing without delay. There, he gave a fairly complete account of what happened to a shocked Poppy as she conducted a more thorough diagnosis.

"There is a large bruise across her entire chest, and two broken ribs near her back. Poor dear, being sledged from both sides," said Poppy once she reappeared from behind the drawn curtains.

"That's all, right? But you can heal bones easily, yes?"

"I can, and I did," Poppy looked exasperated, "but they'd already punctured her lungs before she's brought here. She's also hemorrhaging at a surprisingly high rate. That'll be Lockhart's doing, I suppose. Some expert he turned out to be, can't even cast a simple rennervate right..."

"Seems that whatever's given him his knowledge couldn't give him the practical skills to match," Severus muttered. "I was surprised that he didn't want to duel one of us to show off, but now his reason is obvious."

"I've given her a blood replenishing potion and a healing potion. I'll see if I can do something more for her lungs, and then she'll have to lay still for a day or two... Are you going to continue with the duelling club?" Poppy crossed her arms, "Quidditch is trouble enough, and now this,"

"It won't happen again," Severus promised. He certainly won't be duelling any more students.

Why did he even consent to the duel anyways? He'd agreed to be Malfoy's "second", a whimsical request that he didn't think would come to anything. But even if it was duelling convention for him to take over for Malfoy, he could still refuse as professor. He could say that some rules didn't apply to a practice duel - especially since Filius had already returned Malfoy's wand, or anything if he needed to. But he'd still went alone with it, partly because he wasn't keen on disappointing Malfoy.

But mostly because Granger didn't object.

She hadn't protested that the setup clearly wasn't fair to her, or even flinch at the notion of duelling the "evil" professor, he realized. Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom did look apprehensive on her behalf, but Granger just... bowed calmly and went right ahead?

Severus glanced toward the white curtains that hid the young muggleborn potion prodigy from view. Had she been so vain as to think that she could duel an adult? Severus highly doubted it, but even if she did, he would have to admit that her arrogance was understandable. He honestly hadn't expected her to last longer than five seconds, but instead she'd held out for almost twenty minutes using only expelliarmus and protego. True, a half-decent adult opponent would've overpowered her shield from the start, but Granger was unarguably skilled for a student.

Or had she trusted that Severus, as a professor, would not hurt her? There were preciously few students who would share this sentiment, especially in her house...

Presently Poppy had nothing else to ask him, and so wasted no time in shushing him out of the hospital wing. Severus headed for his office in the dungeons - Filius would've dismissed the students by now, so there was no point going back to the Great Hall. He ignored the Potion Master, whose portrait guarded the secret passageway, when asked about the duelling club. It was rather rude, especially to the only other person at Hogwarts - living or not - who could actually hold a meaningful discussion on the magical properties of various substances, but Severus really wasn't in the mood to chat.

Sitting alone in his office didn't improve his mood either, as it gave him more time to think and appreciate the full implications of this incident.

Over the past year or so, by some fortune, a fragile, shaky tolerance had been slowly forming between the other three Houses and his own. Over his time at Hogwarts, Severus had seem many attempts by students, teachers and headmasters alike to bridge the divide, but those were doomed from the start like twigs in a torrent. Never before had things clicked into place as well as now, with singular "twigs" interlocking and strengthening each other until they just might form a scaffold - one that Severus did everything allowed by his circumstances to reinforce. Never before had it seemed so possible that the poisonous rivalry between the Hogwart Houses could end once and for all, and Severus sincerely doubted that such an opportunity would arise again.

Unfortunately, Granger's injury at the hands of three Slytherins - four if he included himself - would be the spark that burned this fragile network of twigs to ashes.

Tomorrow, three-quarters of the Hogwarts student body would be slinging insults and possibly hexes at the "slimy, conniving snakes". Malfoy would sneer at them and say something along the lines of "the mudblood got what she deserved". The rest of the Slytherins would be forced to defend Malfoy - because any fool could see that Malfoy was arguably the most influential person in his House, and no one would risk being ostracized by their own house in exchange of dubious acceptance from the other side. The rest of the student body would then scream that the slimy snakes are all the same - evil, dark wizards, Death Eaters, etc. etc.

And they would be back to where they started. Severus sighed.

A small knock sounded at his door, and Severus called for his visitor to enter.

"Professor, I'd like to know if Granger's alright."

"Two broken bones and a punctured lung," Severus recited truthfully. Theodore Nott was another interesting one. While the children had been understandably secretive, it did not escape Severus' attention that Nott, Zabini, Greengrass and Granger were close friends. And while the ludicrous notion that Minerva had nagged him into investigating was completely ridiculous, Severus strongly suspected that it wasn't completely ungrounded... "Knowing Madame Pomfrey's efficacy, she should be fine by the day after tomorrow."

"I see. Thank you, sir."

"Before you go, Mr. Nott, what's happening now in the Slytherin common room?"

"Everyone's trying to find out what other people think about Malfoy and the duelling club without saying too much, I believe."

Severus nodded. "Curfew begins in five minutes, Mr. Nott. I advise you to return to the common room immediately. Goodnight."

The small, reticent second-year Slytherin nodded simply and shut the door behind him, leaving Severus alone to his thoughts and his slowly forming list of everyone he should keep an eye out for in the near future. So far, it consisted of Potter, Albus, Lockhart, the ghosts, Granger, and the Gryffindors. And definitely his Slytherins - with especial attention to select individuals...

'And what would you say, Lily? Will we ever learn?'

A.N.: Thanks for all the suggestions on how to get Sally hospitalized XD (Loool that sounds a bit sadistic, but I think it'll be worth it.)