Well, this is is, folks. This is the first entirely new chapter is more than seven years. From here forward you will be getting a new chapter every day until this thing is finished. You'll have less than a week for the grand finale. I live for reviews, I cannot wait to hear what you guys think of the new content. We've got some interesting twists and turns coming up. When one's Beta goes "oh, shite!" when you explain your plot idea, you know it's a good twist. Without further delay, I present the conclusion of Dueling. Special thanks to my wonderful Beta, Queen Corbeau, for working the nagging and patience, the pushing and love. And special thanks to those of you who have been with this particular project since it's conception when I joined the HG/MM ship, all those years ago. It's been a ride, folks!

Chapter Twenty

As much as Minerva was still sore from yesterday, both figuratively and literally, thanks to James' antics, she was quite looking forward to working with him today in the match against Hermione. Her younger paramour was most likely correct in that it would be the two of them in the final, and this would be her singular opportunity to duel against Hermione prior to that event. This would be her only chance to test herself against the remarkable skill that was the spellcrafting expert. Further, James was more than a little gifted in Transfiguration and to her knowledge, the last time she'd felt she had a possible equal in the field by her side had been when Albus was still alive. While there was still much that Roland had to learn, he absolutely had the raw skill. She wondered if he knew it, and really was putting serious thought into offering him an apprenticeship.

"Who's the guy sitting with Rose?" James inquired warily as he came down the stairs into the dining hall, nearly running into her in his surprise to find his wife literally cuddled up in a booth with a handsome young man who was not her husband.

Minerva snorted. "The Weasleys have never been into in-breeding," she assured him. "You needn't worry about Al."

She did, however, wonder what Harry's middle child was doing here. He'd been by with his mum and sister for his father's duel, but they'd only stayed the day. He didn't see Ginny or Lily around, so it stood to reason that this time he'd come alone. Minerva ushered James to follow and approached the cousins. "Rose, before your husband gets too concerned about your cuddling habits, you may want to introduce him to your cousin."

Rose looked startled, and then embarrassed, and Albus had the good grace to immediately begin untangling himself from her. "Sorry, mate," Al said. "I swear it's just a family thing. She's all yours."

"Al, we can talk…" Rose offered.

"No, you go on. I need to think things through before doing anything stupid, really. I'll stick around for a few days anyhow. I can't be there," he replied.

Rose crossed her arms. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't go running back home after calling my Mum a cunt, either."

"You did what?" The young people had evidently forgotten she was standing right there.

"He won't tell me why," Rose said to Minerva. "Mum could probably get him to talk. Ask her to bug him later, will you?"

"Since when has Professor McGonagall been inclined to do you favors, Rose?" Albus chuckled. "Or talk to Aunt Hermione?"

Rose snorted. "Since they started shagging."

Minerva rubbed her temples. Fucking - Weasleys.

"Wait, what?" the middle Potter child choked. "Are you bloody serious?"

"Mum and Dad got officially divorced this past weekend," Rose went on. "Mum and Minerva have evidently been repressing deep seated non-platonic feelings for each other for, like, a million years or something, and have finally decided to do something about it."

Minerva decided to change the direction of the conversation. Abruptly. "James, would you be interested in a Transfiguration Apprenticeship?"

The young man looked perplexed. "Those are expensive as hell, Professor. Beside the point, you know I'm moving to London with Rose. Who would be willing to take on an American-educated Wizard, if I could even figure out how to fund it? I mean Merlin knows I'd love to do it. Transfiguration is… everything to me."

The Headmistress rolled her eyes. "Rose, would you please translate common British for your American husband?"

Rose was beaming. She, like any good British witch, had clearly understood what Minerva was offering. Had she not been offering to cover the cost, she'd have clearly stated the terms. Had she been suggesting he find another Master, she'd have suggested he consider looking for one. How much more plain could she have been? "Babe, Minerva is offering you an Apprenticeship, under her, for which she is willing to cover the cost. All she asks of you is your commitment to see it through."

The young man's eyes couldn't have gotten any wider.

"Think about it, talk to Rose, and get back to me, alright?" Minerva suggested calmly. She was not inclined to ask James to make a rushed decision about his future, especially in light of what was going on right now. "We can talk about it in more seriousness after the competition, but I assure you that the offer will stand one way or another. You have obvious talent and I do want to nourish it. I'd be foolish to let something like money stand in the way of you getting the education you require to go from raw talent to true mastery."

"Blimey," Albus interjected. "I do not remember you being this nice. Aunt Hermione's gotta be a pretty good lay."

Minerva cringed. Fucking - Potters.

It had been a bit of a high when the referee had called for Granger to enter the ring, rather than Weasley. At the start of this, Hermione hadn't really wanted to win the Duel-Off, but now she thought that perhaps she did. It wasn't about the money. It wasn't even really about the fame. It was about the accomplishment. It was about proving herself, and twisting that knife in Bellatrix Lestrange's rotting corpse one more bloody time as she proved her Muggle blood was worth something. It was about vindication. Somewhere between arriving here and now, this had stopped being about one duel they were meant to work up to, and started being about every duel she'd ever been involved in.

Hermione thought about the war, and about how much of a toll it had left on her. She thought about the cost of it, and about the secrets she carried because of it. Her love for Minerva had been a secret even from herself, it seemed. The truth of Tanner's parentage was something she feared could not be kept a secret for as long as his mother wished it would be. The boy wasn't wrong - he did have siblings now, and they would want to know about him. Tanner had been on the mark when he'd said that it wasn't just about his mother's feelings anymore.

Hermione knew that she needed to talk to Ron before he left about her and Minerva, and she wondered if now was the time to come clean to him about what had happened between her and Harry all those years ago as well. Even if he didn't deserve the benefit of the doubt, she hoped she could trust him not to go running to his sister, allowing Harry the choice of if he was to come clean about his part of the indiscretion they'd shared, if one could call it an indiscretion at all. It wasn't as if Harry and Ginny were officially seeing one another at the time, nor were she and Ron. That hadn't changed that they'd both known whose hearts belonged to whom. That's what had made it wrong.

She thought back to the year that Ginny had gone missing. Harry had been a mess, and the guilt of not being able to tell him where she was and why nearly ate her alive. In all the years she'd known him, it was the one thing she'd ever kept from Harry, and the ironic part of it was that Ginny hadn't known and still didn't know that Hermione had chosen to cover for her. It had changed their friendship though. During the war, Hermione and Ginny had been fairly close. After that year, they'd drifted apart. They were cordial at family events on the rare occasion Hermione actually attended one, but there was a distance between them.

Hermione forced her attention on the match at hand. She'd have to stay focused if she were to stay in the game longer than James had; Minerva had already beaten his score so she had to at least beat him to make it to the final. James, it seemed, was the closer of the two opponents, and it was no surprise that he immediately set to attempting to transfigure an ever-shrinking cage around her out of the elements in the set.

She flicked her wand lazily and cast a series of charms used on garden beds to make them self weeding, which automatically cut down any growth James attempted to prompt. She heard him growl in frustration and grinned, and proactively began setting up the appropriate wards to defend against falling rubble, as she anticipated he'd resort to using the rocks next.

To absolutely no surprise, he attempted to make it hail rocks next. As her ward did its job, she conjured a comfortable chair and took a seat, wondering when Minerva was going to join the boy and teach him a thing or two about wards. He obviously knew little to nothing about them, because he was just standing there looking perplexed at this point. Hermione didn't have long to wait before a jet of green light hit the ward, alerting her that Minerva had arrived.

"Bitch," Hermione grumbled to herself as her ward completely fell apart. She'd give Minerva hell for that later; a by the wayside discovery of the war with Voldemort had been that there were a good many wards that could be utterly smashed by a well cast Avada Kedavra. As such, about ten years ago it had been removed from the Unforgivables list and put into the Curse Breaker's arsenal. You had to have a special dispensation to use it, but it was technically a legal spell now. Since it was in fact a legal spell, it was allowed to be used at the Duel-Off, dispensation or not. That said, Hermione had a personal hatred of that particular spell and Minerva bloody well knew that.

However, she appreciated that it was effective in bringing down her ward in less than a minute.

"I can't believe you did that!" she heard James shout at Minerva.

"Don't worry, I'll get hell for it later," the Scottish witch replied, "from at least two people."

Hermione smirked at that. Harry would be even more pissed than she was. She would enjoy watching him lecture the shite out of her, and he bloody well would.

At this juncture, it was pointless to do anything but dance. She'd proven to James that trapping her wouldn't work, and Minerva already knew better than to try that. They would simply have to duel until someone dropped. Lights flashed back and forth as the three moved fluidly around each other. Some part of Hermione's brain realized that she should have taken note of the time of engagement so she could reasonably figure when it would be safe to give up but still assure her place in the final, but as the minutes ticked on she just let herself enjoy the process.

Twist. Duck. Bow. Turn.

She was certain she'd be sore as hell tomorrow, but this moment, this dance, was all that seemed to matter. She was somewhat aware of the look of frustration on Minerva's face, and that observation made her focus on her lover again.

"Damnit Hermione, either fight like you bloody mean it or give in already. We've been at this more than long enough!" Minerva shouted, realizing she had the younger witch's attention.

The world seemed to stop spinning for a moment as Hermione realized what Minerva was implying. The expression of awe on James' face suggested that he, too, had also realized what Minerva had already come to terms with.

Hermione was only using defensive measures.

So many years of only fighting when under attack had shaped Hermione's fighting style to a very defensive one, and somehow she seemed unable to break that habit now. She wondered how much of herself was still fighting a war long over as she shifted her stance purposefully. While she had been keeping both Minerva and James at bay for Merlin knew how long at this point, not attacking them at all, there were, in fact, two ways to end this match. If they couldn't break her defenses, then she could viably take them down. Realistically, it wasn't as if she hadn't faced worse odds during the war. Hell, she'd faced worse odds by Fifth Year.

A look of determination in her eyes, her grip on her wand tightened. Hermione's heart beat a little faster as images flashed in front of her. Dolohov at the Department of Mysteries. Malfoy at the Manor. Bellatrix in the Drawing Room. Greyback on the edge of the forest. Avery near what was left of Rubeus' hut. Oh, gods, was that Fred?

"Oh, fuck," Minerva muttered.

"Terraemotus," she ground out, pointing at the ground beneath James and Minerva's feet.

The floor below them began to shake violently, and both of them moved to grab other props for support.

"Nebula vicinus," Hermione continued, and a thick fog settled down around them. Neither Minerva nor James were in much of a position to counter the fog as they were still busy trying not to fall on their arses per the continuing, magical earthquake.

"Hermione Granger don't you bloody dare!" Minerva shouted through the fog.

"Parvum electricae!" Hermione hollered back.

An electrical current, not powerful enough to really harm but powerful enough to knock the two of them out, shot through the moist air. The sound was not unlike the sound of fire burning through stone, and once again there were flashes of the Battle at Hogwarts in her mind. Desperately trying to maintain control, she raised her Occlumency shields. Two thuds sounded a moment later, and with no shouts of outrage following, Hermione flicked her wand and cleared the fog, canceled the earthquake, and then cast a silent summoning charm on both of their wands.

The moment they touched her fingers, she heard the referee squeak excitedly. "Well folks, that's a match!"

Hermione was a bit dumbfounded when she finally looked at the clock and realized that she'd been holding James and Minerva at bay for more than four hours. As much as she wanted to be proud of herself in that moment, a part of her couldn't help but wonder if the ease in which she dueled, and the ease in which she'd taken down her two opponents once she'd decided to even do it, wasn't proof that she really could win this title. If that was true, then she was standing as an equal to the likes of Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Gellert Grindelwald. Considering that two out of the three of those men had turned out to be monsters, she wondered if that was really a good thing after all. Panting and scared, Hermione dropped the wands that didn't belong to her and left the dueling arena.

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