As winter drew to an end, so did Harry's feud with Malfoy. They never spoke, in fact they avoided each other as much as possible. But there were no further attempts from either side to harm the other. The Slytherin stalkers were called off and Harry was once more able to move about in peace. He kept the Marauder's Map though, and still consulted it often. Even if nobody was hounding him and there was no need for vigilance or secret passages, Harry had learned a few lessons. Using the Map was a good exercise in checking his surroundings and taking note of them. Moody would be proud of me, Harry thought, as he worked in the botany wing.

Neville was helping him, having a green thumb which Harry lacked. Harry had been promised some Mandrakes if he would help out taking care of them. They were among the most demanding plants to grow, and Sprout was happy to delegate the task, especially knowing that a competent botanist like Neville was involved. Due to the danger the plants possessed, students were otherwise not allowed near them unsupervised; but given how much Mandrake were used in the extra-curricular potions he made, Harry had made Sprout this offer to obtain enough. And Neville had not needed any persuasion in lending Harry a hand.

After gardening, Harry would usually meet up with Hermione in the potions dungeon. Snape had been extremely distrustful of their motives, but had allowed them to brew potions on their own; perhaps at first to catch them in the act of whatever detention-worthy (or perhaps even expulsion-worthy if he were so lucky) misdeed they planned. But since all they did was actually just brewing potions of various difficulty and efficacy, Snape had to admit the pair was something as odd as two Gryffindor students spending time in the dungeons simply to brew potions.

The unofficial duelling club still met twice a week, barring unusual circumstances such as the odd Hogsmeade weekend. Harry had retracted a bit from it, though. Before he had found duelling exhilarating, but it had also been with supervision and within established parameters. Having been ambushed that fateful night before Christmas, and having carried out his own vendetta, Harry had experienced a taste of what it was actually like to fight using magic. And while it had been intoxicating at times, Harry felt far more ambiguous about it now.

Harry had no stomach for it anymore; that was the simple conclusion he had reached. So instead he focused on finding new spells and working on specific problems rather than duelling, or instructing the others and helping them out. Hermione and the Weasley twins, who noticed this change in Harry since they had insider information, helped him spend his time as he wished. But eventually came a night when it could not be avoided.

Just as February ended, the official duelling club met for the third time. Harry had considered dropping out; but he knew that once he left Hogwarts, he could not expect only to fight when it was convenient for him. He should be there and fight anybody who wanted to fight him, so he would have a taste of how it was going to be like. Just in case it went anything like last time, though, which had left Harry hobbling and charred, he resolved not to challenge anybody and add extra duels to his night. He would be content just answering challenges. Being in the second tier, however, he was eligible to be challenged by everybody. Checking the spring in his bracer, Harry placed his wand in it and moved with the others to the Great Hall.

The rules were repeated by Moody, short as they were. Then they moved through the tiers, with those at the bottom fifth tier being given the chance to challenge others. Harry sat silently next to Neville, not paying much attention. It did not seem that anybody in the fifth or fourth or even third tier seemed interested in matching themselves against Harry's skill. In previous years, he had been famous as the Boy Who Lived, but it had been rather abstract to most people; it did not say anything about Harry. Now, he was rightfully respected for his own merit. Harry himself was mostly oblivious to this; he was just happy nobody challenged him, not even the Slytherins.

As it was time for the ten students placed in second tier to issue challenges, however, Harry's peace ended.
"I challenge Harry Potter," came the calm words from Cedric. He too had not been challenged yet and so now went on the offensive; Harry was one of the few people Cedric could challenge, and who had raked up a lot of points. Nobody knew exactly how much, or how the scoring system worked; only that points were awarded based on both the victor's and the loser's tier, and a small amount of points were also subtracted with losses. So a victory for Cedric against Harry would give him a good advantage in ending up as the duelling champion. Of course, a loss might put him permanently behind Harry.

As Harry rose from the stands, he made some quick calculations. He and Cedric were probably about even in skill and experience, with no discernible advantage there. But Harry had not prepared himself for a duel against Cedric, which the latter probably had given his meticulous nature. Odds seemed to favour Cedric, but his duelling style was slow; he liked to build up the circumstances and surroundings for his own benefit and then strike when everything was in place, much like a chess master. If interrupted, or forced on the defensive, Harry might stand a chance of scoring a victory before Cedric's strategy finished unfolding.

They took positions. Harry flicked his wrist and his wand shot forward into his grasp from his bracer. They bowed, and the duel began. Immediately, Cedric planted several wards around him and on the ground to absorb incoming spells and warn him. Harry did not bother with a single defensive move. He guessed that Cedric would start his routine of defences first and not throw any aggressive spells. So there was no need for Harry to defend himself and instead he immediately assaulted Cedric. He knew that Cedric was not going to leave any openings, so Harry did not try and find any spells that might pass through Cedric's defences.

Instead Harry simply barraged spell after spell against Cedric. Stunners, slows, locks of various body-parts, jinxes and hexes. All of them were absorbed by Cedric's defensive measures, or occasionally he made a counter with his wand; but Harry continued. He was slowly running out of time, though; he could not dispel or dissolve Cedric's defences fast enough. Whatever Cedric was planning, he was getting there. A mist rose to envelop both of them, obscuring their sight. Harry felt releases of magical energy on either side of him. He moved to the last step of his own plan. He threw several rapid stunners at Cedric, knowing they would weaken his Protego. In the moment that he heard Cedric's voice through the mist refresh the Protego, Harry threw a body-bind in that direction, which would not be stopped by the Protego spell. Cedric did not have time to cease casting Protego and counter the body-bind; Harry heard a thud as Cedric's body hit the floor. He dispelled the mist and saw Cedric lying on the ground, before he dispelled the body-lock.

"Well played," Cedric said smiling, as he got on his feet. "I thought I had you – when we got time, I have to tell you what I was going to do in the mist before you got me."

"You got a bit predictable," Harry said, equally smiling. Although he had lost his interest in duels, fighting against Cedric had enlivened him a bit; the Hufflepuff was simply so likeable, it was more like having fun with a friend than a competition. "But sure, tell me all about it when you can," Harry continued and they separated to allow the next challenger and challenged to take the floor.

"Well done, Harry!" Neville exclaimed. "You must be in the lead now – you'll probably end up as the champion."

"Maybe," Harry said absently. The title of champion did not occupy his thoughts as much anymore. They watched the next couple of duels as the remainder of the second tier duellists fought it out. Hermione scored a victory as did the Ravenclaw twins, though the Weasley pair had more trouble. George went against Malfoy but lost to much cheer from the Slytherin and much bitterness from the Gryffindors. Fred almost lost to Zabini, but pulled out a victory at the end; he was down on the ground and about to lose, when he conjured a pool of oil underneath Zabini and made the latter slip, knocking his head so hard he needed help from Madam Pomfrey. Cheers and chagrin were reversed among the Slytherins and Gryffindors, while George informed those around that the Instant Grease Puddle would soon be available in tablet format, small enough to carry in your pocket and throw a reasonable distance and conjuring a greasy pool upon impact.

"Are they using the duelling club to advertise their goods?" asked Hermione as she moved over to sit next to Harry. She had spent the first round with Ron and was now sitting by Harry in the second.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Harry said. "Congratulations on your win, you were impressive."

"Thanks!" Hermione said, cheeks glowing slightly. "Same to you. You read Cedric very well."

"He needs to be more versatile," Harry muttered as the current duel ended and Neville was challenged in the next. "Careful, she likes to use small hexes to hinder and slow you down, most defensive spells won't stop them," he told Neville as he recognised the fifth-year Ravenclaw who had issued the challenge.

"How's Ron," Harry asked as they watched Neville duel. He had not mentioned Ron for months now, but being back at the duelling club reminded him of when they had last duelled. And the cold war between them was affecting Harry more than he wanted to admit. They slept in the same dormitory, after all, and he constantly saw Ron. Since Christmas Harry had been too angry and obsessed with his revenge to be affected by much else, but now that was over with, slowly receding and leaving an emotional vacuum inside of him. And so there was plenty of room for feeling troubled about the fact that he had lost the first friend he had ever made.

"Brooding, sometimes he even rivals you," Hermione said. "I asked him why he stopped coming to our unofficial gatherings on Mondays and Fridays. He just muttered and shook his head like my great-grandfather used to do whenever he saw somebody with hair dyed pink."

"There's an image," Harry thought, picturing Ron as 100 years old, probably smoking a pipe and with a cane in his hand, rattling it at damn kids who would not stay off his lawn.

"He's been brooding more than usual lately," Hermione added. "I'm not sure if it's gotten worse." She did not specify what 'it' might be, and Harry was not really sure.

"He's probably just light-deprived. Long winter, we're further up north than most of us are used to," Harry suggested idly. Hermione turned and gave him a look. "I read an article about light-deprivation during winter in one of your dad's magazines," Harry explained.

They applauded as Neville took a victory and returned to his seat. Harry did not know the next duellists and his attention drifted.

"I challenge Harry Potter!"

Harry snapped to attention and almost whipped his wand out of its holster. Taking centre stage was Ron.

"Again?" Harry mumbled. They had tried this before. Apparently Ron's brooding had led him somewhere.

"Be careful now," Hermione whispered. Harry gave a small nod, though he was not sure what she meant; be careful of what Ron intended to do, or be careful of what he himself might do to Ron? Harry rose and walked towards the middle of the Great Hall, the duelling area. Wands out, they bowed.

Both raised their defences; unlike with Cedric, Ron was more unpredictable. True, he did have that character trait of treating duels like a chess match and wanting to get his pieces into position. But he had already tried that once with Harry. He had to have something else up his sleeve. The next thing Ron did, he conjured a raincloud above Harry's head. Somewhat annoying, but not a danger in itself. Harry guessed though that it was just the opening move and he better win the duel quick. He launched several curses at Ron, all designed to hinder him. Some of them hit, and Ron's tongue began to swell even as he summoned an empty chair from the stands towards him and then lit it on fire.

There was some disturbance in the crowd at this display of wilful destruction of school property, but Moody or any other did not intervene. Harry could not figure out what the burning chair was for, but did not care either. Ron's tongue was going to give him problems intonating spells and charms, and he would not be able to renew his Protego as fast as Harry could attack it. Harry sent several stunners off with the intention to burst it apart, and already brought his wand back for another series.

Ron did not need his tongue for his next move, however. He simply struck his wand out and a gust of strong wind moved the burning chair forward, rushing towards Harry. Harry stopped it before it reached him, but by then it had entered under the raincloud. A hiss rose as the rain met the fire, and the wind blew the smoke directly towards Harry. He gagged as the smoke entered his mouth and choked the "Stun!" on his tongue.

Before he could figure out a countermove, he heard a very thick voice say: "Eshpelliarmush!" Not the most elegant way that spell had ever been cast, but Harry felt his wand fly out of his grip. Moments later, the smoke was removed as was the rain cloud, leaving a coughing, soaked Harry. He collected his wand and then looked at Ron, whose expression he could not read.

"Congratulations," Harry said, not too loudly. Then, "That was a clever move."

"Thanks," Ron replied with a mutter, his tongue returning to normal size. Then they each returned to their seats as the applause ended.

"Sorry you lost, Harry," Neville said sympathetically while Hermione made a few spells to dry his clothes and raise his body temperature to a normal.

"Thanks," Harry said to her. "And it's okay, he was better," Harry answered Neville. He was slightly surprised to find that he meant it. Last time he had duelled Ron, it had also been close, but he had triumphed through sheer will and tenacity. It had been important to Harry to know that he had done so; as if winning a duel meant he was also the one who had been right, that it was Ron's fault their friendship was broken. Now Harry felt nothing – winning or losing did not make a difference to him. Did anything make a difference to him?

Gods, I'm like those teenagers in those awful books Dudley reads, Harry realised. My hair's even black already, no need to dye it. Hermione's right, I brood an awful lot. Some might even call it moping. He took a deep breath and exhaled. There are plenty of people wanting to make my life miserable. I should stop being one of them.

Nobody challenged Harry a third time that night, and he was left in peace. As the crowd dissolved and the students moved out of the Great Hall, Harry caught up with Ginny. He was going to let Ron be for a while, when the emotions of tonight had quieted down; but he did not want to wait with Ginny until her emotions had died away.

"Tonight?" he said softly as he reached her side.

"Tonight?" she repeated louder in surprise. Then she smiled and nodded as they continued to walk.

"Top of the Astronomy tower," Harry said, also smiling. "Midnight."

"See you there."