Chapter 37: A well-executed duel

Every teacher in the school had problems keeping order in their classes that morning. Professor Sprout certainly wasn't having much luck with her seventh-years. Only Neville kept his head down, carefully tending to his plant- their current projects were tiny trees, designed to hold spells for protection. Sprout had to snatch a young plant from Imogen before she pruned it to nothingness.

Harriet sidled over to Neville. "You knew," she whispered. It was easy to hide her words under the irrepressible chatter from her classmates.

Neville didn't respond.

"I know you've been having lessons with him," Harriet continued, undeterred. "How bad is it, Neville?"

A plant pot smashed firmly into Harriet's face. The shards of the ceramic pot rained noisily onto the hard floor of the greenhouse. Someone gasped. Someone giggled. "Leave me alone!" Neville shouted, perfectly enunciating each word. "You just had to go and be a girl, didn't you, Potter?" He picked up his carefully pruned magical bonsai and placed it in Professor Sprout's hands before marching off, leaving the seventh year herbology students, and their teacher, in shocked silence.

"Miss Potter, go up to the hospital wing," Sprout finally said vaguely. "The blood isn't good for the plants. Miss Granger, if you'd escort her?"

"C'mon, Harriet," Hermione said gently, taking her elbow. Harriet pulled her hand away from her face, staring at the blood pooling in her palm. Hermione towed her away.

"Ow," Harriet complained, not sure if she was more upset about the blooming pain in her face or how hard Hermione was digging her sharp fingers into Harriet's elbow.

Hermione just gripped harder. "What was all that about?" she demanded, not so gentle now she was tugging her friend across the school grounds towards the castle. "Neville doesn't go around hitting people for no reason."

"It was nothing," Harriet snapped back, spitting out some blood. Neville was stronger than she'd thought: it felt like she'd taken a bludger to the face. Or at least what she thought a bludger to the face might feel like: she was too fast to have ever actually experienced a face-hit. "Apparently we're all a little stressed right now."

Hermione glanced at Harriet's face and sighed. "It's a good job Robin can't see you now."

Madam Pomfrey tutted when she saw Harriet, turning her face this way and that. "I thought I hadn't seen you in a while," she groused. "I was hoping you'd grown out of all the accidents. Why on earth are you so dirty?"

"It was a plant pot," Harriet supplied. Her jaw hurt too.

Madam Pomfrey sniffed, showing just what she felt about people who went around having plant pots smashed in their faces. "Sit down," she told Harriet. "You'll need cleaning up before I heal it, or you'll end up with compost embedded in your face."

"Eww," Hermione supplied, perching on the end of a bed. Harriet gingerly climbed up next to her as Madam Pomfrey vanished into her storeroom. "Seriously, though, what did you say to Neville?"

"Can't say here," Harriet snapped, just before the matron reappeared with a couple of vials and some soft cloths. Madam Pomfrey gave Harriet one of the potions to drink. She tried to grimace at the taste, but screwing up her face just hurt.

"Hush, and let me get on," Madam Pomfrey chided. "Miss Granger, you may go."

"I don't mind staying," Hermione said.

Madam Pomfrey fixed her with a steely glare. "I'm quite sure you have lessons to be getting on with," she said pointedly.

Hermione shot Harriet a glance that said 'you're going to explain everything later' far more than it said sympathy. "See you later, Harriet," she said, but Harriet couldn't respond, since she was engrossed in flinching away from the stinging liquid Madam Pomfrey was attempting to clean her face with.

"Hold still, child!" the matron chided, holding Harriet's chin firmly in her free hand. Harriet hissed out her breath between her teeth as the mediwitch cleaned around her certainly broken nose. "Cracked jaw and a broken nose. I'm surprised you didn't lose any teeth. Must have been a decent sized flowerpot. Whoever hit you had good aim," Madam Pomfrey commented dryly.

"Yeah," Harriet agreed, pleased that the cleaning seemed to be over. A few wand-flicks later (and a grating bone-crunch that always accompanied healing breaks) and Harriet was able to breathe properly again. There was a lingering ache, but she knew from experience that it would fade over the next few hours.

"Who was it, Potter?" Madam Pomfrey asked. "Can't have anyone victimising you, after all."

Harriet shook her head. "It wasn't anything like that," she promised. "It was Neville. He's… upset. About Dumbledore."

Madam Pomfrey sniffed in a way that said she didn't quite believe her patient. "Violence is most unlike young Longbottom," she granted. "Go on then- you're all patched up. And try not to let me see you for another three months!"

Charms, too, was almost a write-off, though no one tried to injure her here. Flitwick eventually set them to reading, trotting around the classroom in a surprisingly Snape-like manner for a man not four feet tall. He rapped his wand sharply on Theodore Nott's desk when he leaned over to whisper to Pansy Parkinson. "Class!" he squeaked. "I had thought better of you! Please, do our eminent headmaster the privilege of not forecasting imminent death. He is simply unwell,and requires time to recover."

"No one who's a hundred and fifty and looks that ill is getting better," Ron mumbled under his breath.

Flitwick whirled, his cloak snapping behind him. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley!"

No one spoke after that.

Lupin at least kept everyone too busy to talk. "I have a game for you," he declared as soon as all the class were in. "Hermione, Draco, charm the desks to the sides of the room, would you? Okay, the rules… you'll pair off, and duel, keeping your shields up. I'll be making it more difficult for all of you. Freestyle duelling, no spells that won't wear off by the end of the class period or that draw blood. If a spell hits, you're out, and the victor of the pair duels the next victor to come available. Last one standing wins thirty house points. Any questions?"

They all shook their heads, and Lupin called out names to pair together. He wandered around the class, randomly firing hexes to see how well everyone managed to keep shields up as they duelled with partners. He'd never again tried to partner Harriet with Lavender or Parvati, but today he'd decided that setting her against Draco Malfoy was a good plan. Eventually, pair after pair dropped away- Harriet and Draco were the only original pairing left. Harriet glanced to her left as she circled , carefully watching Draco. Both of them were cautious casters, preferring to keep a strong defence. Ron and Blaise Zabini were lost in a shower of sparks as spells hit shields, and Hermione had just hit Pansy with a jelly-legs jinx. Harriet grinned and avoided a hex from Lupin more by ducking than a use of magical shields, since her wand was occupied by a Protego to fend off Draco's sudden onslaught. She lost sight of how Ron and Blaise were doing in her desperation to fend off Draco's sudden surge of spellcasting.

Harriet and Draco were both of the school of duellists who removed their shoes before beginning a fight. Harriet's tights-clad feet felt the seams in the floor as she moved, removing the need for her to look behind her as she moved to gain a better position. She could tell that Draco cast his shields low: a sensible option when fighting someone so much shorter than him. She favoured a dome-shaped barrier: it took more concentration to maintain it than a sheet shield did, but with Lupin moving about, it meant she didn't have to keep track of the Professor as well as her opponent.

Her heel finally connected with her goal. To most of the class, it looked like she was backing herself into a corner, a surefire way to lose a fight, with nowhere to duck should your protections fail. If she'd been paying any attention to Lupin, she'd have seen a grin, though. What Draco seemed to have forgotten, or thought unimportant, was that this particular corner housed an ancient, unused podium, more reminiscent of a church pulpit than a lecturing stand.

The few inches of the first step weren't quite enough. She scrambled up to the third and top and cast a Petrificus rapidly followed by a cushioning charm, causing Draco's prone form to sink into a soft bed of air, his shields dropping.

"Beautifully done, Harriet!" Lupin praised. "Brilliant use of the environment!"

Harriet grinned and removed the paralysing spell on Draco, letting him rise before removing the cushioning charm. "Good show," he admitted grudgingly, holding out his hand for her to shake.

"Okay," Lupin said. "Harriet, Blaise, you have fifteen minutes of class left. Use it well."

With a sinking heart, Harriet turned to face Blaise. She'd so hoped that Ron or Hermione would have knocked him out of the running, but her grinned at her, his teeth very white in his dark face. Lupin conjured her a glass of water, which she downed in one and assumed the guard position, her protections firmly in place. She cast the first spell, trying to blind him with a shower of bright sparks followed with an expelliarmus almost on it's heels. She had no luck, Blaise blocking easily.

Lupin had stepped back, to ensure that it was one of the combatants who 'won', and not the teacher. Blaise, at least, was clever enough not to let Harriet use the same trick on him as on Draco: he placed himself firmly between her and the podium, and he kept his shields up high.

Later on, she cursed herself for her foolishness. She fell victim to her own success, for it was probably her physically bypassing Draco's shield that gave Blaise the idea. With Lupin out of the picture, she'd dropped the protections at her back in order to concentrate on her assailant. She had been fighting for an hour: she was tired. Blaise aimed his wand high and cried "Repercuto!"

Harriet didn't know the spell, but it had whizzed over her head, missing her by inches. She saw the movement of his lips for the next spell, no matter how quietly spoken. As soon as the white light of sectumsempra left his wand, she threw everything into her protections to repel such a powerful curse. It went over her shoulder as well, though. Sharp pain bloomed across her back an instant before the warm white light of Lupin's protection spell wrapped around her.

"Harriet!" Lupin cried as she crumpled to the floor, gasping. In two steps, he had slipped to the floor beside her, his face pale. Half of the class peered over his shoulder. Harriet groaned as he rolled her to her stomach to see the damage, blood spreading across the stones below her. "Class dismissed," he barked, gathering Harriet up against his chest and bolting from the room, her head lolling against his shoulder, shock taking hold of her body. "Hang on, Harriet," he muttered, even as he blood dripped down his arm and onto the floor behind him. Ron, Hermione and Draco were hot on his heels, Hermione even thinking to siphon the blood as they went.

Everything seemed strangely blurred and distant to Harriet. She heard Madam Pomfrey's voice, but it was Severus who leant over her as Lupin set her as gently as he could on a bed. It was Severus' hand that turned her to her stomach, and Severus' voice that sang the healing words so softly. Madam Pomfrey's hands were cool as the matron held her head back to tip a sleeping potion into her mouth. She slept through the subsequent raised voices.

"What kind of madhouse classes are you running, Lupin?" Severus demanded, his voice much harsher than the soothing motions he used to dab dittany against the angry red mark spreading across Harriet's back from right shoulder to her waist on the left. He tore her blouse a little further to let him work.

"Me?" the Defence professor riposted sharply. "That's your spell, Snape, and it was one of your Slytherins who cast the damned thing!"

Severus' hands stilled. "Which one?" he asked, quieter now.

Lupin sank into a chair at the end of another bed. "Blaise Zabini. He reflected it off the wall behind her. I didn't even realise what he was doing- I didn't hear the spell he cast until it was too late. It looks like a disarming hex- just a streak of white light. Zabini's fast."

"He is," Severus agreed. "Malfoy, make yourself useful. Go and find Blaise. I want him in my office when I get back."

Draco nodded and hurried away. "Granger, Weasley," Severus continued. "Please fetch the Headmistress here. I don't care if she's teaching, tell her it is of the utmost urgency. Do not tell her what has happened."

Ron began to protest, but Hermione tugged on his arm, drawing him away. Madam Pomfrey held out her hand for the dittany-soaked cloth Severus had been using. "Thank you, Professor. I can take it from here," she said primly. Severus nodded and gave up the cloth without a fight, retreating beyond the bed curtains Poppy twitched around her patient so she could prepare Harriet for bed.

An hour later, Harriet opened her eyes to the stark white of the hospital wing. She pushed herself up on one elbow. "Ah, I see we're awake," Madam Pomfrey said, bustling over to prop a pillow behind her.

"Yeah," Harriet said vaguely. "Erm, what happened?" She glanced down at the starched white of the hospital nightgown with a wrinkle of her nose.

"You were hit by a cutting curse in your Defence lesson," Madam Pomfrey explained, handing her a glass of water to rinse the fuzzy mouth always left behind by sleeping potions. "And there I thought I'd told you to stay away for at least three months," she added with a small smile.

"I remember… I think I remember… was Sever… erm, Snape here?" Harriet asked.

"Professor Snape was delivering a batch of potions to me when Professor Lupin brought you in," Madam Pomfrey confirmed. "Professor Snape was closest- he healed you. He's a trained mediwizard as well as a potions master."

"Yeah, I know," Harriet said, still feeling fuzzy.

Madam Pomfrey laid a dry, cool hand across Harriet's forehead and cast a diagnostic spell with her wand at the same time. "You've lost quite a lot of blood today," she informed her patient. "Blood replenishing potions for you for the next few days, I think. It's probably best if you stay here overnight."

"I can't!" Harriet said hurriedly. "Please, Madam Pomfrey, I'll be fine! I can sleep in my own room." Robin was coming tonight, was all she could think. She couldn't be here, or she wouldn't see Robin, and she wanted to tell him that she'd been silly, that she didn't mind that he had thought about spanking her. She threw the bedclothes back and sat up, but even that made her head spin.

Madam Pomfrey pushed her back with a gentle shove, tucking her in again. "Nonsense, young lady," she said. "You're staying here if I have to use a sticking charm on you."

No matter how much Harriet assured the matron that she'd take all her potions and be ever so good, Poppy held firm in her decision. Harriet had fallen into a sulk when Severus swept in. She looked up hopefully. "Professor Snape!" she cried out. "Madam Pomfrey says I have to stay here overnight!"

Severus pulled a chair up to her bed, raising a hand in greeting to the witch in question, who acknowledged him and disappeared into her office. "She's quite right, Harriet," Severus said quietly. "You lost a lot of blood. It's best you stay where someone can keep an eye on you."

"But Robin…" she pleaded, her voice low despite the empty room.

"Robin will understand," Severus assured her. "He'll see you tomorrow, I'm sure."

Harriet huffed and flopped her head back against the pillows. She'd hoped that Severus would override Madam Pomfrey. He cast the same diagnostic spell as she had earlier, and frowned at the result. "You've lost more blood than would be expected, given how fast Lupin arrived with you," he complained.

"I lost some this morning," she explained in exasperation. "Had my nose broken."

Severus' brows knit together. "Explain."

"Got hit in the face with a plant pot," Harriet sighed, bored of the story already- she'd had to tell it three times at lunch.

Severus began to ask further, but thought better of it when he saw her exasperation. He'd get the story from Poppy, even if it took a few tumblers of Glenquidditch whiskey, firewhiskey being too strong for the Matron's tastes. "I thought you might be interested to know that Mr. Zabini has been given a week of detention with Professor Lupin, in addition to a week with myself," Severus said. "The headmistress also saw fit to remove a hundred points from Slytherin. Your friends are baying for blood, or his suspension at the very least. I think you will probably have a visit from them soon."

"Thanks," Harriet sighed. Severus patted her hand, then surprised her by leaning over to kiss her on the forehead before he left.

Ron and Hermione were exuberant in their astonishment at what they saw as an unfairly light punishment for Blaise, and were quickly sent away by Madam Pomfrey. Draco's visit lasted a bit longer, but he too had to depart when Professor Lupin sidled into the room, pressing himself against the wall as though not wanting to really be there. Draco at least left Harriet with a small bar of chocolate to amuse herself with. Since all Hermione and Ron had brought was her schoolbag, abandoned in the Defence classroom, she thought Draco had a better idea of how to treat ill people.

Lupin took Draco's abandoned chair when he had gone. "I… I am very sorry, Harriet," Lupin said quietly. "I should have been paying better attention."

"So should I, Professor," she admitted. "There's no way I should have ignored that reflecting spell just because it missed me. Zabini's too good to miss like that."

"Yes, well," Lupin sighed, not quite willing to agree. "I had no idea he'd use such a dangerous spell. He's currently under the supervision of Mr. Filch, scrubbing your blood off my classroom floor without any magic whatsoever. I may have put a sticking charm on my floor as well."

Even Harriet had to grin at that. The idea of Blaise on his hands and knees with a scrubbing brush was some comfort, especially since she wasn't in any pain, just rather dizzy if she sat up more quickly than a flobberworm could wiggle. Lupin leaned back in his chair. "I've just come from meeting all the Gryffindors- well, all except you, for obvious reasons. I'll gather all of you up in year groups for hot chocolate and biscuits before bed over the next week or two to reassure everyone that I'm not going to eat any of you. I don't know how long I'll be left with head of house duties, but we'll see, eh?"

"Yeah," Harriet agreed distractedly, remembering something she'd forgotten to tell Lupin. "Erm, could you grab my school bag, down there by the side of the bed? There's something I want to show you."

Lupin handed over the bag without complaint, waiting as Harriet fished down to the bottom for the slightly crumpled letter from the Wizarding colleges. "Here," she said, thrusting the thick parchment at him.

Lupin's eyebrows rose as he read the letter. "Well done, Harriet," he said finally. "If they're interviewing you, that means they're seriously considering you. Have you had time to ask Professor McGonagall for the time off yet?"

Harriet shook her head, and Lupin smiled indulgently. "Well, you have had a rather busy day," he granted. "Incidentally, Neville is most apologetic about the plant pot incident. We had some trouble locating him, but he was finally found hiding out in one of the other greenhouses, most upset."

"It's okay," she said. "I kind of deserved it. Anyone could see he didn't want to be bothered."

"You're a good friend, Harriet," Lupin said, handing back the letter and stretching. "Your mum and dad would be proud of you." He smiled at her, but Harriet didn't respond. She just bit her lip and nodded when Lupin told her to get better soon and to look after herself.

At ten o'clock, Madam Pomfrey gave Harriet a blood replenishing draught. She doused the lamps in the main infirmary, but, with a knowing smile, she waved her wand at Harriet's bed, levitating it off the ground and trailed it after her like a reluctant puppy into a side room. "This room's usually used for infectious diseases," she informed the confused Harriet, "but Professor Snape has suggested that someone else might like to visit you this evening. Remember that my room is next door, and I will hear any… exuberance."

She had just shown Harriet the bell pull by the bed that would summon the mediwitch when the fire turned floo-green. Severus stepped through first, followed by a nervous Robin. "You've grown since I last saw you," Poppy informed Robin with a smile.

"Hi, Poppy," he said, but his eyes were fixed on Harriet. Madam Pomfrey waved him past, realising that she wasn't going to have any sense out of him. He perched on the edge of her bed even as she was struggling out of the cocooning blankets to sit up. "Hey, kitten," he said softly. "How'd you feel?"

She just threw her arms around his neck. Poppy shook her head fondly- she'd always liked Robin, having patched him up quite a few times in his life. "A nightcap, Severus?" she invited, indicating the door to her quarters.

"You came," Harriet breathed when the adults had gone.

"Of course I did," he murmured, brushing her hair back off her face. "Dad says it was a pretty bad curse you got."

"Madam Pomfrey says I have to stay overnight," she complained plaintively.

He kissed her gently on the forehead, pushing her fringe back and brushing his lips over her scar. He liked the way she trembled when he kissed the sensitive flesh. "Do as they say, kitten," he said firmly. "You need to get better, okay?"

"Hold me, please?" she requested. He arranged himself at the head of the bed, letting her lean back against his chest. She was asleep by the time Severus came back to usher a reluctant Robin back to their quarters.