Chapter 9: Fought Like Heroes


"Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!" sneered Snape, deflecting the curse once more.
— Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, J.K. Rowling


Previously on GTTN...
"On the count of three, you may begin your duel—one… two… THREE!"


Our bodies slid into our own unique dueling stances, but no spells left our wands.

Yet.

Instead, Severus and I circled one another like lions circling prey—wands held aloft as we examined our opponent—scrutinizing form, searching for points of weakness. The noise of the surrounding duels filled my ears—curses whizzing, hexes banging—and in that moment, I realized—I was in my element.

I was a product of war, after all.

I quickly took inventory of the situation.

I noted the way he cocked his head slightly to the side as he observed me, as if considering his first move carefully. He rotated his neck, cracking his spine in a way I supposed he thought was intimidating. His wand was held loosely between his middle finger and thumb, steadied by his index finger with the handle flush with his palm. I'd once seen this precise grip used by Lord Voldemort himself—and it was also a technique I was employing now. It provided much more effective wrist control. He appeared relaxed, but I could tell he was maintaining tension in his core. This was a tip I'd learned from Harry. I finally took note of his stance—he held himself as if inside of a box, his arms never straying far from his body.

And with that, my strategy took form.

I cast the first spell—a nonverbal Jelly Legs Jinxand he blocked it with ease, just as I had predicted. Smirking at the sophomoric jinx, he returned fire quickly with what appeared to be a Full Body-Bind Curse. I parried it smoothly with with a simple Shield Charm. As I sent an Impediment Curse his direction, I felt a nudge at the back of my brain, like a gentle caress of my occipital lobes before someone gained unwelcome entry.

Of course he was a master of nonverbal-fucking-Legilimens at seventeen. He wanted access to my mind. He wanted the advantage of knowing my every move before I made it.

I don't have bloody time for this, Snape.

I hastily gathered my thoughts, placing them inside the compartment of my mind reserved for this very purpose. I erected the familiar walls inside my brain, shielding myself from his mental attack. His eyes narrowed as his attempt to delve into my mind was unsuccessful, and another hex left the tip of his wand. I had a strong urge to stick out my tongue as I deflected it.

Thank Merlin I'd taken the time to learn Occlumency on my own. There was little else to do while trapped day after day in that godforsaken tent, after all.

Our duel took place in utter silence, and we continued in this manner—

Hex.

Shield.

Jinx.

Block.

Curse.

Deflect again.

—for a short while. It seemed we were evenly matched and the duel would have no victor—until I decided to change the pace. Instead of using Protego to avoid his next advance, I simply ducked out of the way, my entire body lowering into a crouch. Surprise flashed across his face. Before I'd even fully righted myself, I pointed my wand into the air, thinking Avis. Small yellow birds twittered as they circled the two of us, but I knew better than to rely upon that distraction alone. He shot another spell, and I spun on the spot to avoid it, pirouetting with surprising grace out of his line of fire.

The moment my body was in line with his once more, I knew my plan had worked. My unexpected physical maneuvering had forced his wand arm further away from his body, opening up his stance. This was my best shot. I pointed my wand directly at his chest, incanting Oppugno inside my head. My beautiful birds turned fierce, raining down upon him. He let out a comical, high-pitched shriek and cowered with his arms protecting his face as they began to peck, distracting him from my final move.

I immediately disarmed him. His wand left his fingers and soared through the air, landing neatly in my outstretched hand. With a flick of his wand, I clearly stated aloud, "Finite," and the birds ceased their attack. I then vanished the lot of them from sight with a final sweep of his wand.

He stood and I tossed his wand back to him. As he caught it, I nearly gasped in surprise as I noticed he was smiling. Grinning, even. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen such a look cross the face of Severus Snape before in my life. It transformed his face completely, making it almost handsome. Utterly perplexed, I rushed forward.

"Sorry, sorry!" I said as I reached him. "If you'll let me see your arms, I'll heal those scratches for you?"

He simply shook his head, still grinning, and tapped his wand to his arm. The scratches and cuts the birds had caused healed instantly.

Suddenly, I realized the room was strangely quiet.

I turned around slowly.

The entire class had already completed their own dueling matches and had evidently decided to watch the bloody show. Color flooded my face as I saw every eye in the room fixed upon me. Mary and Marlene were simply gaping. Alice's face held something close to respect, and Lily looked strangely suspicious. James and Peter had the same dumbfounded expressions as they had the night before when I revealed my relation to Dumbledore. However, Remus and Sirius didn't look surprised at all. Instead, they were both grinning approvingly, sharing a silent fist-bump behind their backs. I didn't think I'd ever been so mortified in my life, including the time Malfoy enlarged my front teeth to walrus-sized proportions.

Professor Prewett broke the silence.

"Absolutely brilliant, Hermione and Severus! I think it's best if we end on that note," he said to the class as he pointed his wand over his shoulder, returning the blackboard to its original position. The homework assignment appeared. "I want a fifteen-inch essay due next class on the importance of nonverbal incantations in dueling situations."

No one moved.

"Well go on then, you lot. If I'm releasing you early, I expect you to actually leave."

Finally, the class began gathering their bags and exiting the room. There was a soft tap on my shoulder, and I turned to see Severus holding out his hand, that bloody grin still plastered across his face. "Very impressive, Granger," he said approvingly. "I hope we can make this a regular occurrence."

When did the world become so arse-backwards?

I didn't think it was possible, but my face burned even more deeply scarlet. I grasped his hand, shaking it quickly as I replied, "Er, yeah. Thank you. You were really great as well."

Shaking his head incredulously, he released my hand and walked to the door. I immediately went to fetch my bag and get the hell out of there too, but I was halted by Professor Prewett.

"Hermione, would you mind sticking around for a moment?" he called from the front of the classroom where he had begun to gather a few scrolls of parchment into his briefcase. I nodded perplexedly, picking up my bag and walking slowly to his desk.

"You're dismissed too, Sirius," said Professor Prewett over his shoulder as he closed his briefcase, the clasps clicking as it locked. I turned and saw Sirius lurking in the doorway, his face full of concern.

"I'll catch up with you in the Great Hall, okay?" I said to him quietly with a small jerk of my head. He gave me an intense, burning stare before nodding hesitantly and departing the room.

"Come with me to my office, Hermione," said Professor Prewett, using his thumb to indicate the oaken door at the front of the classroom. "If it's alright with you, of course?"

I simply nodded again and followed him into the small office. As he sat behind his desk, he aimed his wand at the door, closing it until it was open only an inch. He then gestured to a brown leather armchair facing the front of his desk, and I sat, perched on the edge of my seat.

His office was one I'd entered many times under the tenure of my future professors, and each had brought their own unique tastes to the room. Professor Prewett appeared to be very minimalistic. His desk was constructed from darkly varnished walnut and was bare, except for a jar of ink and one lone silver frame containing a moving wizarding photograph of a family of redheads. A single ray of sunshine had made it past the dreary gray clouds outside and was streaming in through the open window behind his desk, brightening the room. There was a long, high bookshelf on the side wall filled with everything from Auror's manuals to defensive spellbooks. I even saw a book on household charms.

My eyes grew wide as I noticed the clock displayed on the middle shelf. It was an exact replica of another very familiar clock—the one that hung in the sitting room of The Burrow. Like Mrs. Weasley's clock, this one also had nine hands. However, some of the names labeling the hands of this clock were different. I squinted in an attempt to read the tiny letters. I could make out Gideon, Fabian, Molly, and Arthur, along with the three Weasley children already born: Bill, Charlie, and Percy. There was also Florinus and Ottoline, who I assumed were Professor Prewett's parents.

I returned my gaze to Professor Prewett to find him leaning back in his desk chair, relaxed, but eyeing me closely. He really was quite handsome. I heard Ginny's voice inside my head, telling me that I only thought so because I had a "thing" for redheads. Well first of all, Ginny would warn me to stop checking out her dead uncle.

I also noticed that his eyes were the precise shade of cornflower blue as Ron's had been.

My stomach squirmed uncomfortably.

Fought like heroes.

I broke the silence.

"That's a very unique clock, sir," I said, pointing to the shelf.

He let out a deep, charming laugh. "Oh Merlin, please don't call me 'sir,'" he said, shaking his head. "I swear, this job makes me feel as old as my dad. Gideon is fine for now."

"Right," I replied, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. "Gideon it is, then."

He laughed again, the edges of his eyes crinkling. "Yes, my clock is an interesting piece, alright. It's actually an invention of my dad's. He made four of them—one for my mum and each of his children."

I licked my lips. "Er, yeah. It's certainly very fascinating."

"Well, enough small talk," he said, waving his hand dismissively. His demeanor then changed, becoming more serious. He sat up straighter in his chair. "Those were some very impressive dueling skills, Hermione."

"I suppose," I replied vaguely, giving a noncommittal shrug.

"There's no suppose about it," he replied incredulously. "I saw techniques from you today that I would only expect to see in at least the second year of training at the Auror Academy. You assessed your situation carefully and formed an effective strategy in less than ten seconds. That's pure skill, Hermione."

I stared determinedly down at my hands in my lap, picking at a bit of skin on my thumb. I shrugged again.

"I'm not going to ask where you learned to duel so well," he continued. I looked up, furrowing my brows in confusion. He shook his head and ran a hand through his bright red hair. "No, I don't want to know. Not yet, anyway." He paused, scrutinizing me for a moment, then finished, "However, I'd like to help you."

I blinked at him.

"Help me?" I asked blankly.

"Yes, help you," he repeated. "I'd like to have a few training sessions outside of your normal classwork so we can work on honing your skills."

I stared at him.

"Er, well—thank you, I guess," I replied, feeling very shocked. "I really don't know what to say—"

"No thanks necessary. I'm just doing my job," he said with a shrug. He then leaned forward across his desk, lowering his voice solemnly. "The world is a dangerous place right now, Hermione. Skills like yours shouldn't be ignored."

Right. He wanted to train a soldier.

Been there, done that, Gid.

"I'd also like to keep these extra sessions between us for now," he added in a hushed tone. "There are those out there who would prefer you not be taught some of what we'll cover."

"Of course. I understand completely," I answered, thinking of Umbridge. "One question though," I continued, my voice just above a whisper. He leaned closer, listening attentively. "Are you helping me for the benefit of the Ministry or—" I paused, biting my lip. Should I even ask? The metallic tang of blood hit my tongue. "Or for the benefit of The Order?"

His wand was out and pointed to the door in one fluid motion. It closed quickly with a sharp snap. He then directed his wand at me, the tip level with my nose.

I didn't flinch. I expected this reaction. I fixed my gaze firmly upon his, bracing myself for an interrogation.

"How do you know about The Order?" he asked, his voice low and sharp. The tips of his ears were turning red, reminding me painfully of Ron.

"Dumbledore," I replied simply, not breaking eye contact.

He stared at me, unblinking. "Dumbledore, huh?" he asked skeptically.

I nodded.

"I'll be checking on that," he replied, eyeing me shrewdly as he lowered his wand.

I shrugged. Of course he should. It's what I would do.

We were both silent for a moment. He sank back in his chair, staring at me intensely as if debating his next words. "And to answer your question," he said slowly. "I suppose a bit for both."

He then pushed back his chair suddenly and stood. He walked to the door, holding it open for me in an obvious dismissal. "Stay back after next lesson and we'll schedule a time to meet, alright?"

I nodded and stood as well, shouldering my school bag as he returned to his desk. I was almost through the door when I stopped abruptly, turning back to him.

"One more thing," I said quietly. He looked up from his desk where he had begun writing on a long scroll of parchment. "Why does the Ministry have an Auror teaching at Hogwarts this year?"

He heaved a weary sigh, but his eyes stared straight into mine once again. There was something behind them that I couldn't quite identify. "I think you already know the answer, Hermione."

I gave a curt nod of understanding.

Of course—Hogwarts was an ideal recruiting ground for Voldemort. There were quite a few mini-Death Eaters in the making here.

"Goodbye, Gideon," I said with finality, turning to leave.

"Be careful, Hermione," he replied in a voice so low, I almost wondered if I was meant to hear it.


As I closed the door of Gideon's office, I glanced down at my watch. There was only twenty minutes remaining in the lunch hour.

Lovely.

I walked slowly across the D.A.D.A. classroom, weighing my options. Should I hurry to the Great Hall for a quick lunch? Or head up to the Gryffindor Common Room? I had Friday afternoons off this term, something I was extremely grateful for now. This day already felt as if it had lasted years, and I didn't think I could stomach the mutters and stares that were sure to follow me after that thoughtless display in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

What had I been thinking? Why hadn't I just let Snape win the fucking duel? Honestly, I'd never expected to win the duel in the first place, but I knew that was no excuse. My performance was certain to draw unneeded attention. It had been careless. Reckless, even. Utterly ill-advised.

I sighed deeply as I pushed open the classroom door. Maybe I should just go to the library? I closed the heavy wooden door and leaned back against it, closing my eyes and exhaling slowly through my nose. The library was certainly not a hotspot on Friday afternoons, so maybe I'd be lucky enough to find a secluded corner and avoid any further embarrassment today. Yes, the library seemed to be my best option for solitude at the moment. My decision final, I opened my eyes and turned in the direction of the library. However, the corridor was not, as I had previously thought, empty.

A few paces away, Sirius was leaning against the wall, watching me intently as if we had a prior appointment. Had he been waiting here this entire time?

"Shouldn't you be in the Great Hall?" I asked him as I approached.

"Should be, but I'm not," he replied vaguely, still leaning against the wall with the sort of careless air only he could achieve.

I arched an eyebrow at him. "So why the hell are you lurking in abandoned corridors? Some people might find this sort of behavior creepy, you know."

He barked out a laugh, walking forward and putting an arm around my shoulders. "Put the claws away, kitten. You have Friday afternoons free, right?"

"Yes…" I replied slowly.

He gave my shoulder a squeeze. "Brilliant! We're going somewhere."

"Going somewhere?" I repeated suspiciously as he steered me down the corridor. "Where exactly are we going?"

He leaned closer to me as we walked, his face only inches from my ear.

"You'll have to wait and see."

Oh Merlin, this couldn't lead anywhere good.


(A/N:) I really hope the duel was worth the anticipation. Please take a moment to leave a review and let me know what you think!

:)
-liz