"Ognum! Ognum! Ognum!" the guild assembly master banged his gavel, causing a quiet to descend in the chambers. There were three hundred and fifty seven other delegates, seated in the various factions. The largest two were seated on the far left and far right of the semicircle.
"There are around seven factions that matter. On the far right is the Preservationists. Those are the Grindelwald sympathisers. They are led by their faction leader, Ivarin. On the other side, you have the Reformists. These are the firmly anti-Grindelwald members. They are far larger than the preservationists, but are far less united, being a mix of pro-Unionists, nationalists, fascists and victims of Grindelwald. Nominally, they have Alexandar Vasily as their leader, but in essence its more a loose coalition than a united block, whose shared interest go only so far as opposing the Preservationists," Simmons had advised him. "In the middle, you have the stragglers and the neutrals, who generally want no part in any conflict."
"And which do you think I should join?""My guild is in the Preservationists.""I believe you misheard. What do you believe the Lost should join?""Um...I suppose that would be up to you." Harry couldn't help a sigh of disappointment.
"Today, we welcome our newest guild, 'the lost', headed by Harry White," the guild assembly master declared, causing murmurs from the many who didn't know about this development, though most seemed largely unconcerned. "Are there any objections to the ascension?"
The room remained silent for thirty seconds before the assembly master banged his gavel. "In such a case, the Lost is now recognised by this assembly. You are invited to speak."
"Thank you, assembly master," Harry responded smoothly.
"Have you thought about how you will handle the assembly?" Ortaba questioned. He eyed the younger boy speculatively.
"I have."
"Well?" the boy asked impatiently. Harry merely smiled mysteriously."I have found...that life is often about balance. Between the light and the dark, between selfishness and sacrifice, between the ordinary and the extraordinary," he mused, eliciting many confused gazes from the various members. "A Nash equilibrium is the desire for any system to achieve a certain state. To reach balance. And yet, the assembly in front of me, tethers dangerously.
"Which side will you join?" Katerina asked.
"What makes you think I'm going to join a side?"
"You realise the only way to actually have a say is to join either side. I would resent you were you to join the preservationists, but respect and trust your decision."
"That is why, I call upon the neutrals, the non-aligned, to join me, to form a third faction, one principled on armed neutrality, to defend our own interest rather than subject ourselves to being victims of the petty fighting on either side. Oyez!" he raised his ring, that of the guild leader.
"Oyez!" one of the neutrals stood up and answered, their ring glowing a dim white.
"Oyez!" another followed, and soon a small but sizeable part of the middle of the chamber were standing up chanting, their rings lit up in solidarity.
"Oyez," Harry chanted as he approached the centre of the faction. Several individuals in the front row shifted over, revealing a seat in the middle for him. Bowing to the members of the newly formed neutral coalition, he took his seat. No one failed to notice that there were minor defections from both side to the centre of the chamber, even though roughly half a dozen delegates made to sit away from the new faction, establishing themselves as the non-aligned movement.
He received a furious glare from Vasily, whose faction suffered over a dozen defections, and a speculative look from Ivarin, who seemed more stunned than angry. The guild master seemed lost for words, but quickly shook himself out of his stupor. Harry nodded politely to the members near him, who passed him several notes, a quickly scribbled summary of the current events.
"Glancing through them, he quickly deduced that there was nothing of importance, given it was so early in the year. A few meaningless bills from the Preservationists or the Reformists spilled over from last year, most on tightening the restrictions for newcomers to the assembly.
Debate from minor members on both sides took place, yet neither of the two faction leaders saw fit to intervene, and Harry was content to simply watch. When the matters were put to a vote, most of the bills failed, with the neutrals following his lead in rejecting all of the restrictions. He suspected both sides were planning to reassess the situation with him before re-engaging in battle.
"Ogair! Ogair! Ogair! I declare the first assembly of the five hundred and twentieth year over!" the guild master announced. As the chamber's Preservationists and Reformists filed out, roughly eighty guild leaders remained behind, representing the neutral faction and several stragglers from either of the other factions curious enough to stay.
"My friends," he intoned smoothly, "for too long have we been ignored, turned into pawns in the game between the Progressives and the Conversationists. Our interests have been sidelined, and our voice drowned out."
Several cheers rang out, and he waited several moments for quiet to return.
"As neutrals, we must exercise constant vigilance against the temptations of either side. They would have you believe that you must pick one of two poisons. Perhaps in the past that was true, but no more, I say! We shall make our own path! One that benefits and defends ourselves!"
More cheers rang out, and he could see that even the stragglers seemed tempted by his speech.
"I will not pretend this will be easy. I will not pretend that we will not face the sharpened knives from both sides, not content in leaving us be. I will not pretend I have all the answers. But no matter our disagreements internally, we will present and stand in a united front. We are now brothers and sisters in arms, the last line of defense against extremism at Durmstrang! Let us meet every Friday night in these chambers, to pool our resources, to settle our differences, and most importantly, to build friendship and union."
"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!" the members chanted, signalling their approval. As Harry raised his ring in response, he couldn't wonder if this is what Ceasar felt like as he was made Dictator so many years ago. He spent several minutes in polite conversation with various members of factions, accepting the praise with bowed head and returning each compliment for one of his own.
By the time he left, he was one of few left in the chamber, most having dispersed, no doubt to spread the word. He smiled as he entered his common room, and the chatter between his members ceased, as the three turned to him, eagerly awaiting an answer. "Good morning, everyone, how is everybody."
"Fine, now tell us what happened?" Katerina demanded. Harry merely chuckled. "Which side did you join?"
"The neutrals," he answered, causing all three to frown.
"So we're non-aligned?"
"On the contrary, there is very much a faction called the neutrals now, roughly eighty one strong," he answered, causing the three to gape. "Yes, I am now the leader of the third faction in the assembly."
"That's...incredible," Otaba gaped. Harry shrugged daintily, even if he couldn't help a smug grin.
-Break-
He glanced over, to see Sarah tutoring the other two in armithacy. Harry himself was standing outside an alchemic circle, recording values for various materials and updating the list he had copied from the twins. Beside the circle, several cauldrons slowly bubbled, silvery mist emitting from them.
There was a tentative knock on the door, and he wandered over, opening it to see a wet eyed Alana, cheeks puffy. Quickly, he invited her in, closing the door behind him, and sat her on the couch, signalling for the other three to continue their activities.
"Alana, what's wrong?"
"T-t-those asshats! I refused to let them copy my work, and they kick me out of the guild!" she sniffed. Harry winced sympathetically, pulling her into a tight hug.
"Well you always have a place with the Lost, if you want it."
"T-thank you," she sobbed, and Harry allowed her to clutch on to him, her body still wracked by sobs. He gently ran a hand down her back, waiting for her to calm down. Inwardly, he was crowing. Today was setting out to be a wonderful day for him.
-Break-
Harry was biting into a chicken leg when he observed several individuals enter the hall.
"Hmm, those are the ones that were mysteriously frozen like popsicles," she mused, frowning when one of the boys walked up to Ivarin, whispering furiously into her ear.
"Ugh, that imbecile is probably bitching at his sister. Feel sorry for whoever it was though, probably going to get their ass handed to them by Ivarin."
"I see," Harry mused, nodding to the four others sitting with him as he walked out the hall and into the antechamber. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Ivarin leave to follow him, and once outside, he waited patiently, hearing her hurried footsteps approach.
"Miss Ivarin," he called out, causing the footsteps to stop. He turned back around the corner with a pleasant smile on his face. "You were looking for me?"
"Walk with me," she offered her hand, but both knew it wasn't a request. He indulged with a nod of his head, taking her hand as the two wandered down the corridor past the library. "You've put me in quite the dilemma."
"Oh?"
"My brother, useless as he may be, is the heir of the family. Your little stunt has rendered one of his testes dead, and he is nearly infertile. What do you have to say to that?"
"He should not have picked an opponent he was ill equipped to match," Harry shrugged, and he saw a grin tugging on her lips.
"Be that as it may, such an attack cannot go unanswered," she sighed. "What reparation are you prepared to offer?"
"Considering I resisted from throwing them off the cliff, perhaps it is I who should be asking that question," Harry mused lightly. She stilled, and he turned to face her.
"I like you...scratch that, I don't, but I respect you, and I know of your abilities. I've seen your type before, an upstart who believes themselves top of the world. Let me give you a reality check, there's always a bigger dragon."
"Your advice is heartfelt, so let me return it with my own. Do not allow things to escalate out of your control. Do not allow others to drag you into a conflict you have no interest in, but you will find yourself a pawn."
"I'm truly sorry…"
"Don't be, miss Ivarin. We both know what will happen next."
"I, Ira Septima Ivarin, hereby challenge Harry White to an honour duel over his injury of my brother," she intoned.
"I, Harry White, hereby demand, as my right in a duel being declared against me, the right to demand a stake for such a grievance." Ivarin looked taken aback, and shook her head bemusedly.
"I acknowledge the demand for stakes, and hereby demand a public apology from Harry White for the Ivarin family, for Harry White to publicly join the Preservationist faction, and for an unspecified favour in the future on the condition I am victorious."
"Very well, I Harry White, accept such terms, and in return demand a full night with Ira Septima Ivarin on the condition I am victorious." Ivarin's eyes bulged, before she levelled a heated glare at him.
"I, Ira Septima Ivarin, do accept the terms, so mote it be," she ground out. "You just made this personal, White."
"Good," Harry smiled lazily. "I want you to be angry. I want you fighting at your best. Because I will then crush that hope, piece by piece, with you watching helplessly, that it is my wrath that you have incurred. Good day, miss Ivarin."
Alone in the corridor, he smiled. Another piece had fallen into play.
-Break-
"Mister White, stay behind a moment please," professor Irman requested. Harry obeyed as the professor shooed out a few straggler students out of the room before shutting the door. "What is this I hear about you being in an honour duel with miss Ivarin?"
"I am, this saturday," Harry simply nodded. The professor gaped at him.
"Respectfully, are you insane or delusional, mister White? There hasn't been such a student talented in the dark arts since Grindelwald! Swallow your pride and reject the duel! There is no shame in doing so, no matter how talented a fourth year you are, you haven't a hope against her."
"On the contrary, professor," Harry smiled mysteriously, "I do believe that I have every chance.
"Very well," the man sighed, "the follies of youthful arrogance, I suppose. I wish you the best of luck, mister White. Just...surrender, if it becomes too much."
"Of course, professor," Harry nodded, waving goodbye before leaving the class, where he saw Katerina looked crazed.
"You did what?" she hissed angrily.
"I accepted the challenge. I need to solidify my position in this school. This is the perfect opportunity."
"You know what? Screw DADA, you're coming with me to practice the dark arts. You might think you have a shot, but let me assure you, she isn't like others. I can only hope it will be enough."
-Break-
The two had skipped all their lessons for the entire week, until now, he was waiting in the duelling arena.
"Look, mister White, I know you're talented...but please reconsider. Miss Ivarin has a well earned reputation," Petrov advised him nervously. Beside him, the four members of his guild nodded in agreement. "Swallow your pride!"
"I'm afraid I can't do that," Harry replied softly. "Weakness only begets more attacks. I will meet this challenge."
"I...see I cannot convince you otherwise," the man sighed reluctantly. "Just...promise me that you'll yield before you get too injured."
"If it eases your mind, I promise to do so," Harry assured, causing the man to give a shaky smile.
"Good luck, White," Patting him on the shoulder and squeezing firmly, professor Petrov walked off to the staff box overlooking the duelling pit. Students began to chatter excitedly, the few stragglers rushing in to find seats.
He felt a presence behind him and turned, to see his only friend biting her lips nervously, fingers toying with each other as she walked up to him.
"Be careful," Katerina pleaded, placing a kiss on his cheek. He merely nodded, giving her a confident smile before descending down the steps to the duelling pit. Once Ira entered as well, the duelling wards flared up, securing the arena for the onlookers.
With reluctance, Defence professor Petrov stepped onto the adjudicator platform, announcing, "The honour duel between miss Ivarin and mister White will commence. Have the duellists come to an agreement on the duelling regulations?"
"Your pick," Ira smirked mockingly, causing a few jeers to echo in the hall. Harry merely returned a genial smile.
"Type three," he answered, causing the girl across to startle slightly, "unless you're too frightened."
Several laughs sounded, causing Ira to growl, simply nodding her assent. Petrov shot him an incredulous look, but at his unwavering gaze reluctantly nodded. "Very well, on the count of three. One, two, three."
Neither duellist moved for several moments, until Ira relaxed her grip to her side, announcing, "I will let you fire any one spell at me."
Raven bit down a smirk, and announced, "Corrigo."
The sticking charm hit her right hand, causing it to snap tightly around her wand. Several whispers of confusion chorused from the audience, while Harry merely held his wand loosely to his side. She cackled, wiping a tear from her eye.
"Let me teach you what the dark arts are," she smirked, incanting, "Traumata."
The trauma curse, jet black, sizzled towards him. Harry did not bother ducking, allowing it to hit him. Brief flickers of fear flashed in his mind, but he quickly clamped down on it, quirking an unimpressed eyebrow. "Is that all?"
"Impossible…" she muttered darkly, scowling, though not without some weariness. "You might have a strong will, but that won't save you from curses."
She fired off several blasting curses, which he lazily dodged around, slowly advancing towards her, wand still lazily by his side, tip towards the ground. Growling, she began firing progressively darker curses, a blinding curse, followed by a jet of flames, followed by a blasting curse. He weaved elegantly past all the spells, allowing them to nearly graze him but just miss, causing her to become visibly agitated.
Snarling, she fired a cleaving curse, a sickly purple spell gunned straight for his head. He lazily cocked to the right, avoiding it, and indulging in several outraged gasps. "Let me show you how to use that spell, girl."
WIth this, he began running at full speed towards her, weaving through several panicked curses. He burned through her hasty conjured knives, leaping in the air and twisting with impossible precision through several arcs of magic designed to rip him to shreds.
Panicked, she summoned a wall of blue flames around herself, which quickly expanded outwards. He allowed them to impact him, reinforcing the magic around him. She had a triumphant glow on her face, until she saw him emerge unscathed.
"Is that all you got?" he smirked. "You have thirty seconds. Make me move."
With a growl, she fired all manner of dark curses at him, from gutting curses to trauma curses, she tried everything, though Harry merely batted them away with his wand, sending them flying harmlessly into the wards.
"Dodge this," she finally cursed, "fiendfyre!"
A roar of flames jetted towards him, though he merely raised an unimpressed brow even as several screams were let out. Shifting the air around him, he channeled the fiendfyre with thin layers of vacuum, causing the flames to swirl around him and bask most of the duelling floor, but not come close to touch him. As they spiraled around him, he flicked his wand, sending them hurtling back at Ivarin, who let out a scream as she desperately tried to dispel the spell.
"Don't dish out what you can't take, girl," he lectured with mock sternness as he dispelled the flame moments before they would have collapsed her shield. She looked up at him with horrified eyes.
"What are you?" she choked out, wiping the sweat from her face as she fired several silent dark curses at him, which he simply flicked away from him. Truthfully, he could have done this wandlessly, but Harry had no desire to let that ability slip so early.
"Weakness," he answered. Before she could comprehend, he began charging forward, causing her to rapidly fire several area of effect spells in an attempt to slow down. He didn't even break stride, merely leaping and dodging past the spells. When he was right in front of her, he smacked her wand arm to the side, pointed his wand up to her chin and incanted, "Soluto."
The spell jutted from her chin through her nose, completely cleaving off her jaw, taking it clean off. Several watchers screamed, while sobbing was heard from others. Lazily, he tapped his wand on her forehead, "Envennerate, can't have you falling unconscious, no?"
"The duel has ended!" professor Ivarin growled angrily. Professor Petrov looked inclined to agree, but Harry raised a finger.
"It has not. She still possesses her wand and has not verbally yielded, nor have I," he smirked cruelly at the man, who glared back until he was forcibly pushed back down onto his seat by two other professors. Turning back down he cooed, "Crying already? We're just getting started, Maggie. Save your tears. Effusus."
The onlookers watched with grotesque horror as her skin began peeling itself, causing her to hyperventilate, though no sound came out apart from wheezing. He tutted, conjuring a small dish and collecting the blood beginning to pour from various parts of her body.
"Let us play a game. When I pour blood down your throat, there is a fifty percent chance that it will fall into your stomach. The body has a natural revulsion towards blood, and you will choke it out. The other fifty percent chance consists of it going into your lungs, in which case you will experience the sensation of drowning to death. She looked up with pleading, teary eyes, but he had little sympathy. Looking at the dish, he nodded satisfied, and yanked her hair up, allowing him to pour the blood down her throat, before stepping back, patiently waiting.
She hackled and heaved, collapsing to the ground, bending downwards to try to pour the blood back out, though to no avail. He waited curiously, as she suddenly choked, hackled, then heaved forward, spewing blood along with bile out, the foul smell quickly spreading across the arena.
"Mister White, I think you've-"
"I am not satisfied," he replied simply, causing Petrov to slump down defeated. Stepping over the vomit, he yanked her up by the hair, whispering, but in the silence able to be heard by all, "Tell me, what could you do if I fucked you right here in front of your father? Do you think he would disown you? A lady without their virginity is useless, afterall."
She shook her head, making muffled sounds he assumed were pleas.
"I think not," she relaxed slightly, only to howl in pain when he raised his wand to her crotch and fired a cutting curse before letting go of her hair, allowing her to collapse in her vomit. "Wouldn't want to give you any mixed messages, after all."
Her hands reached, clutching her bleeding crotch, rolling over in pain and not caring of how she dirtied herself. "Perhaps it would be a mercy to kill you now."
"White! End this! Healers see to my daughter!" Professor Ivarin demanded. It was a testament to the shock of the room that no one reprimanded his disregard for etiquette.
Two healers moved to enter the ring, only for Raven to raise his wand, an eerie green glow on the tip of his wand. With a soft voice, he declared, "I will kill anyone who intervenes. Step back."
Torn between angering him and the professor, the two healers eyed each other before raising their hand, stepping backwards. He nodded satisfied, turning back to Ira.
"Of course, I'm not that merciful. I want you to live the rest of your life, knowing I did this to you. That I can do it again. And that you will be helpless to stop it." With that, he pointed his wand, casting a cutting curse on her hand and severing her wand hand. "This duel is over."
He stepped out of the ring, at which point the medics rushed into the arena, tending to the injured Ira. Many of the professors eyed him wearily as they quickly left, while many students scrambled out of the halls, likely eager to clear their minds of the traumatic events. Ignoring all this, and noting the scrutinising look that professor Hurst, the only professor left behind, hsot him, Harry walked up to Katerina, offering a wry grin. She returned a shaky smile uneasily.
"See, no need to worry," he joked, causing her to finally shake out of her stupor, rushing up to him and clutching him tightly in a hug. Amused, he ran a hand through her hair soothingly as she cried.
"You jerk! You never told me you could do that! All the time we spent training! You were holding back!"
"I enjoyed it," he shrugged, causing her to look at him strangely before throwing up her hands in exasperation, crossing them and tapping her foot impatiently. Feeling the need to defend himself somehow, he shrugged, causing her to snort.
"I suppose that's the best apology I'm going to get. Come, it smells in here," she clasped his hand, leading him out of the duelling hall and into a corridor, where a hush immediately fell over the students gossiping there. One boy let out a whimper as they passed that particular group, while two girls fainted when he turned in their direction.
They did not stop until they reached her room, at which point she shoved him in, all but forcing him onto the bed and proceeded to attempt to slap him, though by instinct he raised a hand, blocking that. With a stern glare that caused her to swallow, he warned, "I won't retaliate because you're my friend, but don't mistake this for tolerating such behavior."
With a nervous nod, she quickly scurried off, locking the door before returning to the bed and laying down beside him, using his chest as a pillow. He felt an urge to wrap his hands around her, something which her purr of contentment signalled was the correct move.
"Do you want to tell me what that was?"
"That was sending a message, but moreso, that was a lesson to you."
"A lesson? What? To never betray you? To never doubt you?"
"That much is obvious, I didn't befriend you for your stupidity. No, that was a lesson in utilising what you know. I will not deny you likely know far more dark curses than me, that you're in sixth year dark arts says that much, but you would not have survived in Ira's place."
"No crap," she snorted, before sobering at the serious look he gave her. "I understand."
"Do you?" he hissed softly, the challenge palpable. "I say this because you are my friend. I will protect you as much as I can, but that does not mean that I can do so constantly. You have your life, just as I have mine."
"I...what would you have me do?" she asked softly, conceding the point. He gave her a genuine smile, alleviating some of the annoyance she clearly had.
"Train with me," he pleaded. It must have conveyed in her voice, as rather than the normal rejection or sarcastic barb, there was indecision on her face. "You trust me, right? Then trust me when I tell you this will be necessary."
"Will it be?"
"Yes," he replied, unwilling to elaborate. She swallowed heavily before sighing, and he knew he had won. Satisfied, he planted a kiss on her forehead, causing her to sigh in contentment. "Thank you."
"Only for you, Harry. Only for you."
Author Note:
Damn, this is definitely in my top 5 favourite chapters. This is probably the most detailed duel I have written thus far, definitely let me know how it felt. Not much more to say for now, other than, as always, follow, favourite, share with your friends and leave a comment, even if just to say hi! Until next time, toodles!