Chapter 34 The Tournament Begins

Spells were flying almost before the word was given. Harry watched, impressed, as Peter dodged around Nott's spells with all the agility of his rat animagus form, darting here and there and firing off a few spells every time he got an opening. Sirius and James were cheering at the top of their lungs, joined after a moment by Marlene (they didn't know that those in the arena couldn't hear them, thanks to a one-way silencing ward). Harry and Remus were quietly urging him on, as were most of the other Gryffindor girls. Similar behavior was exhibited by the Slytherins, though obviously they were rooting for Nott.

Twenty minutes was an eternity when the duel was at a stalemate. Peter had taken a few hits, but he always got back up and he always served back what he was given. He used his prowess with the summoning charm to summon bits of rock toward himself, and then he banished them back toward Nott, who was forced to either dodge or cast a different spell to destroy or redirect them. For a minute or so, the two were doing nothing but banishing rocks back and forth.

Peter broke the cycle by enchanting some of his projectiles to react badly when hit by another spell, and then he went back to shooting spells directly at his opponent. Finally, Peter turned the rock beneath Nott into sand, cast a few more well-placed tripping and sticking spells, and, to everyone's surprise and the Marauder's delight, Peter finished Nott off by blasting sand in his face, sent some prank spells through it and, finally, a stunner to the face.

Nott went down hard, his feet partially sunken into the sand, his robes turned Gryffindor red, and sand everywhere. Peter had won, and with two minutes to spare.

Grinning widely, Peter turned in triumph toward the Marauders, who were now all screaming (including Harry). The shield came down and Professor Dean gave Peter a very impressed look.

"And Mr. Pettigrew advances to the next round!" he announced. And as he spoke, the line from Peter's name turned green and continued to the next bracket, while the line from Nott's name turned black and stopped. He then revived Nott and helped him up.

"Congratulations, Mr. Pettigrew. You may return to your seat."

"Thank you, professor," Peter said and rejoined the Marauders, who clapped him enthusiastically on the back. Sirius crowed in triumph.

"You sure showed that snake!"

Peter grinned abashedly and sat down, positively glowing under their compliments. Then he caught Harry's eye.

Harry grinned and said quietly, "Well done, Pete."

As Nott returned to his seat, Professor Dean called the next pair down to the arena:

"Severus Snape and Amelia Selwin!"

The two Slytherins made their way down to the arena, trading sneers as they took their places. Harry watched intently, curious to see Severus duel without holding back.

"Three. Two. One. Begin!"

Once more, spellfire filled the arena. The girl relied heavily on charms twisted to suit her needs, with some transfiguration thrown in, especially affecting the arena itself. Severus, on the other hand, was both direct and devious, mixing up his spells in such a way that the girl, Selwin, couldn't figure out which ones were dangerous and therefore was forced to block or dodge them all. And agility clearly was not her forte.

The duel lasted nearly ten minutes before Severus finally got the upper hand as his opponent grew tired from the constant blocking and dodging. And just a few moments later, he successfully incapacitated her with a well-placed jelly legs jinx followed by the full-body bind.

"Well done, Mr. Snape!" Professor Dean announced, cancelling all the spells on Selwin. "Return to your seats." They both nodded, though the girl looked quite bitter at her loss. As they returned to their desks, the line from Severus's name turned green to advance to the next round. At seeing the match-up, Peter turned a bit pale—he would face Severus next.

The next duel was barely even a contest. It was Avery versus another Slytherin girl named Glaston, and he finished her almost before she had a chance to raise her wand. She was clearly embarrassed by her loss, and it didn't help that Avery was already crowing over his victory and calling taunts out to everyone else. James and Sirius stiffened beside Harry when Avery called out Peter and promised a quick defeat if Severus didn't get there first. Peter set his jaw and stared back defiantly, but his hands were shaking beneath the desk. Harry put a hand on his arm and offered him an encouraging smile.

"And that's all we have time for today. Bring me your notes, and once I check them over, you'll be free to go."

Harry smirked as he saw James's eyes suddenly widen. He hurriedly scribbled a few things down as everyone began lining up by the professor. Sirius grinned and waved his eleven inches of notes in front of James. Harry was fairly sure they were all the myriad of ways Sirius was going to put Severus in the ground—figuratively, of course.

After a few more minutes, Professor Dean had checked everyone's notes and he'd dismissed them, some ten minutes before class was meant to end. Sirius was already sharing all the ways he was gong to teach Severus a lesson; Harry gritted his teeth and walked away. Peter and, surprisingly, Remus caught up to him a moment later.

"Sirius won't shut up," Peter stated.

"You'd think he'd at least have learned something from being told off, again," Harry grumbled.

"I guess you're not scary enough," Remus suggested with a faint smile, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

"You want to do it then? You're plenty scary when you're mad," Harry challenged, but he returned the smile to show it was a joke.

Remus opened his mouth, then closed it again and sighed. Harry sighed, too, more forcefully, and walked a little faster. He wasn't sure what it was about this month in particular, but it seemed everyone wanted to get on his nerves. It was better for him to stay quiet, lest he offend someone inadvertently. The last thing he wanted was to alienate one of his friends.

The rest of the day, all the sixth years were buzzing with news from the dueling tournament's first matches. Those (few) students that weren't taking the class eagerly got all the information they could from their friends, and betting pools were growing. Harry was fairly certain James still had the majority on his side. In fact, the dueling tournament was all anyone could talk about. Harry resigned himself to hearing about it over and over again over the course of the next two weeks. In all honesty, he couldn't wait until it was over.

Tonks was of a similar mind.

"They're so childish," she complained later that evening in the privacy of the Room of Requirement. "It's all just a game to them."

"To be fair, it is a game right now."

Tonks sighed. "Perhaps. But one day they're going to get quite the rude awakening. And I don't want to be in their shoes when they suddenly realize that real Death Eaters don't play by the rules."

Harry echoed her sigh. "I just want to be able to do something about it."

"You are—"

"Right now," Harry clarified with a glare. "I know that helping the others learn how to fight might save their lives one day, but I just…I wish I could stop what was happening right now."

"I know, kid. But some things just have to happen or the future we know won't happen, either."

Harry grimaced—a slightly more mature version of a pout. "I know." Then he sighed again. "It's just…I don't want to see them lose their innocence, any more than they already have. I know what it's like to have to grow up too fast. I don't want to shelter them, but…I don't want to see them hurt, either. And I know hurt is coming."

"What do you mean?"

Harry's fingers tightened in his robe sleeves. "When the attack happened, the one where I was orphaned, Dumbledore sent me to my only living relatives—Lily's sister Petunia and her family. That means both James's parents and Lily's parents were already gone by then." Harry wrapped his arms around his chest. "Which means that sometime between now and Halloween 1981, they're going to die."

Tonks shook him suddenly, and rather vigorously. Harry blinked in surprise.

"Don't go worrying about what will happen or won't—because for all we know, you have or you will do something to change that outcome," Tonks said firmly. "Rather, focus on the now. Focus on building your dueling skills and helping your friends. Try to mend the rift between you and Sirius—because I can tell that it's tearing you apart inside." She smiled softly. "Try to enjoy the time you have, because it won't last much longer."

Harry drew his legs up to his chest. "That's easier said than done. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?"

Tonks's lips quirked. "Who indeed."

The third and fourth elimination rounds were held on Wednesday, and the opponents were: Marlene versus Slytherin Charlotte Sutton, and Sirius versus Alice. Everyone was eager to watch both duels. James was setting up a betting pool on the sly.

It took Marlene just under ten minutes to subdue her opponent, but for just a moment it looked like Marlene was going to lose. Alice, surprisingly, put up quite the fight, but Sirius still won. So, there was time for one last duel before the end of class: Lily versus Mary.

Mary put up a very good fight—it was clear she and Alice had both greatly benefited from their extra practice over the weekend. Lily was impressive, too, and Harry saw the proud look on Tonks's face when Lily varied her spells and dodged more often than shielded. Lily won in the end, which led to James congratulating her in the most obnoxious, James-esque way he could manage. It probably would have turned her off, if she hadn't been so excited about her victory.

The next round match-ups would be Sirius versus Lily (a duel Harry was very much looking forward to) and Marlene versus Avery.

The next day, while DADA did meet, it was a shortened class and therefore they simply reviewed the last duels. The last two elimination rounds were held on Friday: James versus Remus, and Harry versus Tonks.

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that match-up, nor was he certain how he should approach it. On the one hand, Harry really wanted to win, just because he had only beaten Tonks perhaps twice, total, ever, since the previous summer. On the other hand, though, Harry wasn't sure he was willing to pull out all the stops and reveal just what he was truly capable of—but more importantly, what he'd had to go through in order to get that good. Because no one who dueled like Harry got as good as he did in a classroom. That came from real, life-and-death experiences.

Tonks was the same, Harry realized. And for the same reasons. She was an auror, she'd gone through rigorous training and been in real fights, some of which she had lost. And since their professor was also a ministry-trained auror, he was likely to recognize some of the techniques she used. Not to mention that Alastor Moody, the auror who had trained her, was currently very active and very well-known. Tonks giving her absolute best (which she would have to, in order to beat Harry if he also gave his very best) would reveal things about her that would raise questions neither of them wanted to answer.

It was, therefore, with trepidation that Harry and Tonks entered the arena during DADA that day. Nervously Harry readjusted his grip on his wand and returned his sister's strained smile with one of his own.

"Begin!"

Immediately spells began flying. But it was also very obvious that neither of them was giving their all. After the first, somewhat-hesitant exchange, they settled into a fast-paced rhythm. Despite not going all-out, however, they still kept each other on their toes. There was noticeable surprise as Professor Dean watched them exchange sixth- and seventh-year spells with ease, most of them nonverbal, and with a real eye for strategy. But it was still not all they were capable of.

They were so evenly matched, in fact, that they almost ran down the clock into a draw. But evidently Tonks was not willing to end it that way, so she pulled a surprise move right at the end—a wandless, nonverbal disarming charm, mixed with a barrage of other spells to unbalance him. Harry's wand flew out of his hand and across the arena. Just before he physically wrestled it from her, though, Professor Dean called time.

Panting, grimacing at his loss, Harry turned to Tonks.

"I guess you got me," he admitted sheepishly.

Tonks smirked. "I'm still undefeated," she declared triumphantly.

Harry rolled his eyes as they returned to their seats.

Next was James and Remus. Harry had been interested to watch, curious as to who would win. But after his duel with Tonks and his previous realization, he wasn't feeling it. He had more or less expected his loss, but the duel itself bothered him.

Both of them had been holding back—a lot. They'd used higher-level spells, sure, and had showed a knack for strategy. But Tonks hadn't used any of the real defensive spells she knew, focusing instead on charms and transfiguration. And Harry hadn't used any of the creativity he'd displayed just last week in Charms class, relying instead on brute force. And, impressive as it had looked, neither one of them had moved more than a foot in any direction from their starting positions. No one had noticed, probably, but in a real duel both of them would have been dodging and rolling and moving all over the place.

The fact that they'd both felt the need to hold back so much suddenly bothered Harry a lot—or rather, the reason they'd felt that need. Because they were both used to fighting—not dueling, but fighting—for their lives. Tonks was an auror, and, well, Harry was the boy-who-lived, the Chosen One. And Harry had never been so acutely aware of how extensively their identities were tied up with the era they'd come from—one of war.

And Harry realized, as DADA ended and Harry didn't even know if James or Remus had won—that, no matter how much he wanted it, that while he could change his name and change his appearance, he would still never be "just Harry."

And that hurt.

"—rison! Oy! You still in there?"

Harry blinked and took a reflexive step back at finding Sirius literally in his face.

"Mate, what's up with you? Are you that upset that Joselyn beat you?" Sirius demanded, with only a hint of mocking.

Harry quickly shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

"Then why did it take Sirius of all people to get a response?" James asked skeptically. "You've barely spoken in a week."

Harry shrugged and forced a smile. "I've gotten used to Sirius not speaking to me. I couldn't believe it was me he was talking to, so I tuned him out," he responded cheekily, trying to deflect their attention away from his sudden realization of just how much of himself he was keeping a secret from them. And how much that hurt, too.

The others laughed at his retort, though a little uncomfortably. Then they headed to their next class.

Harry was out of sorts the rest of the day. James kept insisting that he was upset about losing to his sister (because James was sore about losing to Remus, who spared no expense in taking the mickey for it). Harry let them believe that. He could hardly tell them he was essentially in the middle of an identity crisis. Harry tried to distract himself by tacking his homework immediately after dinner. But that only worked until he was done, and not counting assignments given that day, he finished everything before ten o'clock.

Claiming it was getting late, Harry retired to bed, only to lay awake until the others came up nearly an hour later. Only once they had settled in did Harry finally fall into a restless sleep.

Harry's nightmare that night was different from usual. Instead of dreaming it was his fault they all died and they blamed him for it, now he dreamed that he saved them, but in the process revealed who he really was, and they rejected him.

It was far from the nightmares that woke him screaming (or, Merlin forbid, crying). But it drew out a fear that had always been there and that Harry had just successfully managed to suppress. And it put him in quite the mood for the next day. He was withdrawn, taciturn, and distant. And though they all tried—even Sirius, who seemed to have temporarily put aside their disagreement over his treatment of Slytherins, and Severus in particular—none of them were able to pull Harry out of his depression.

The weekend was a nice break from the tournament, at least for Harry. It gave him a few days to get his bearings. But the nightmares didn't stop. And Sunday night was especially bad.

Harry was back in the graveyard, surrounded by headstones. But they were all blank. All but one, which read: Here Lies Tom Riddle. Also known as Lord Voldemort.

Harry was ecstatic. He'd defeated Voldemort! He turned to share his victory with his friends and family—only to find them staring at him with disgust. Harry glimpsed his reflection in a mirror: crazy Potter hair, green eyes. It was him, even down to the round-framed glasses. Harry looked back at his friends—teenaged Lily and the Marauders.

"You betrayed us," Sirius accused.

"You let us believe your story," Remus said, clearly hurt.

"You should have told me you were my son." James looked on with disappointment.

"Why did you lie to us?" Peter's eyes were filled with tears.

"No son of mine would be a liar," Lily declared.

"But I saved you!" Harry insisted.

"That may be so. But you still lied to us."

"I can't believe we ever let you into the Marauders."

"You're a liar."

"You betrayed us."

"Traitor."

Harry woke with a shuddering gasp to find his cheeks were wet. He caught his breath and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow. Why can't I just be Harry?

Monday was not a good day for Harry. He barely cared about the next round of the dueling tournament, even though it was Severus versus Peter. He just couldn't summon the energy to be excited. He kept imagining scenes from his dream, and each time it just drove his mood darker.

Severus won the duel, though Peter put up a good fight and didn't seem too disappointed by his loss. Sirius, however, was furious, and was already swearing his revenge.

The other duel was Avery versus Marlene. Avery beat Marlene in spectacular fashion that was only just allowed. And while he wasn't disqualified, he did lose some house points for pushing the boundaries. Both duels had lasted the full twenty minutes, so once notes were turned in, class was over.

"I'm going to kill Snape," Sirius declared. "How dare he humiliate our Wormtail like that?"

"Er, Sirius—" Peter tried, but Sirius kept talking right over him.

"Don't worry, Pete. I'll get your revenge. I'll make sure that slimy cheater feels the full wrath of the Marauders!"

"Just let him talk. He'll shut up once there's food in his mouth," Remus muttered, half amused and half exasperated—his default setting when dealing with his crazy friends.

"Moony's right," Harry agreed tiredly. Though he could do without Sirius trash-talking his friend, just because he wore a green tie. Honestly, he was tempted to sit at the Slytherin table during lunch that day, just to get away from Sirius running his mouth like he was. And escape the haunting words from his nightmare, and the nagging voice in his head that told him they were right—he was a liar and a traitor.

"Especially once he realizes he has to beat Joselyn before he can duel Snape," James put in with a faint grin. "Now that's a duel I'd pay to see."

"She won't let you charge admission. If you tried, she'd probably just hex you herself," Remus replied.

"And then Harry would, too," Peter added.

James looked mildly frightened. Sirius didn't even seem to notice their short exchange.

When they got to the Great Hall it was no different. Harry tuned out Sirius's ranting and rambling in favor of tearing his chicken into tiny pieces, only bringing a bite to his mouth every now and then. He missed Peter's concerned glances, and Remus's "accidental" bumps to his shoulder. They were trying. But Harry just wasn't in the mood. In fact, their reassurance only made him feel worse.