Chapter 16 – Curse of the Consumed

Alex watched as Scott downed the potion in a single swig. He turned and indicated for her to be ready to catch, and tossed it underarm. After she had caught the empty bottle, Scott turned back to Skeres. The potion's effect was instantaneous – his face seemed to heat up with colour, and steam began to stream from his ears, drifting about his head. Skeres watched him, her eyes dark with resentment. There was no doubt that she could have done with a dose of Pepperup.

Whilst Scott flexed his wrists and stretched his muscles in preparation, Skeres began to remove some of the layers that surrounded her, tossing aside the coat and cloak that had protected her from the cold. Then, to the raising of Scott and Alex's eyebrows, she deftly pulled her robes over her head. Beneath, she wore a black leotard and tights, which revealed that she was far lither than Alex had been able to determine through the Hogwarts school uniform. And then, as though to prove her suspicions, Pellon stepped forward, a pair of ballet flats held out for her to take.

As Skeres swapped out her shoes, Alex pondered at this new revelation. The fact that Scott's opponent was likely well-prepared and skilled at dodging hadn't been entirely unaccounted for; they had determined Skeres' strategy would be agility-based after reading up on her ancestor's duels. The possibility that Skeres knew some form of shielding spell had been raised, but Scott had seemed certain – as he was wont to do – that history held the answers.

Alex looked at Scott. He didn't seem phased by the new information that Skeres was likely a trained dancer – instead mostly interested, with the hint of a confident smirk. He'd no doubt seen that her uncontrollable shivering had only worsened. Alex found herself cheered by this, despite herself. Scott, on the other hand, seemed entirely unbothered by the chill, the hefty application of Pepperup Potion providing all the necessary warmth he could wish for. He had begun to polish the pale hornbeam wand that he was so fond of. He'd claimed that both it and his walkman would be his good-luck charms, and Alex found herself hoping desperately that his faith in the objects wasn't misplaced.

After a minute or two, which had entailed Skeres performing some rather impressive warm-ups, Ethan spoke again from his safe vantage point. "Um, if the Duellists are ready, could they please find their places so that we can start? Seconds, if you could find your cover?"

Alex moved to stand behind the teacher's desk at one end of the room, below a window that overlooked the lake. It wasn't as secure as the stone fencing that Ethan watched from, but it was out of the way enough so as not to put herself in harm's way. Scott and Skeres stood opposite one another, though Scott's attention seemed focused on something else.

"Something to set the mood, y'know," he was saying, speaking to his hip. "Exciting. Dramatic."

Suddenly, music began to emanate from the walkman clipped to his belt. The sound that came forth seemed to evoke in Alex's mind the image of a showdown of gunslingers, and she thought she recognised the song as coming from a Muggle Western.

"Hmm, not exactly what I had in mind," Scott muttered.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Skeres asked uncertainly.

"Oh, nothing," Scott said flippantly. "Just finding the song for our dance-off."

"Dance...?"

"Dance-off, Skeres. I figured with the costume, well..." He trailed off, indicating her clothing, an insolent smirk crossing his face.

At Skeres' replying expression of disgust, the music very drastically changed. The sound of percussion – clapping – had begun, and following that: the melody of a guitar. Alex didn't think herself as knowledgeable in music as Scott, perhaps, but if she was reminded of anything, it was Spanish flamenco. Scott glanced back down at the walkman, seemed to consider, and then shrugged.

"If the Duellists waited for the duel to begin before exchanging harsh words, er, that'd be great," Ethan chided weakly. "Now, for the bows."

Skeres inclined her head, but didn't take her eyes from the comparatively hulking form opposite her. Scott was more animated, dramatically placing a hand behind his back as he bowed. Alex was wishing he would take things slightly more seriously, when she noticed something. As he straightened, Scott didn't take his hand from his back, and – yes – she saw it slowly creeping down the blunt weapon that was there.

"Wands at the ready," Ethan called, a nervous bite to his voice.

Scott and Skeres' wands were in their hands. Alex had the impression that the song was about to undergo a change – the guitar seemed to be building to some sort of climax, and she could swear there was bass in there. Scott's hand clamped around the handle of the bat.

"Begin!" Ethan cried.

Several things happened at once. The music took a drastic turn – from the walkman blasted an energetic disco ditty. Ethan ducked down, only his magnified eyes visible through the legs of the balustrade. And from the Duellists...

"Finite!"

"Flipendo!"

And extraordinarily, without even pointing his wand in its direction, the Sticking Charm was dispelled by Scott's incantation, as though his wand had acted precisely to his whims. Then he was swinging his entire body around, and with a heavy push, the Beater's bat met the blue light that had blasted forth. Caught off guard, Skeres' eyes widened as her own spell came barrelling towards her with even greater speed than it had moved at moments before.

In a spectacular twisting motion, Skeres leaped to the side, putting more than enough distance between her and the spell's path. Alex felt a twinge of disappointment. The spell had been batted back using Scott's left arm – his non-dominant arm; less accurate, and a smidge slower – and so Skeres had had enough space to move before falling victim to her own magic. She landed nimbly on her toes, recovering from the initial surprise remarkably quick. Curiously, Scott hadn't taken the opportunity to jinx Skeres with a spell of his own, instead having opted to switch his weapons; in his right hand he now held the bat, whilst his left held his wand.

Narrowing her eyes, Skeres pointed her wand again. "Colloshoo!"

And again, Scott received her spell with the enchanted club. He deflected it, aiming for her feet. Clearly having expected it, Skeres was already in the air with a leap even more impressive than the last. But Scott's wand had been pointed at where she was about to land.

"Morsus!"

The white flash met Skeres square on the shoulder, and she shrieked in sudden pain as the Stinging Jinx worked its magic. She landed far less gracefully than she had previously, and through the pain, looked up at Scott, rage apparent on her face. And then the lyrics of the song began.

"Baby, do you understand me now?

Sometimes I feel a little mad."

She loosed another spell at him, her wand cracking like a whip as she screeched, "Furnunculus!"

This spell Scott simply batted aside. It collided with a table and promptly dissipated.

"But don't you know that no one alive can always be an angel

When things go wrong I seem to be bad."

Skeres cast again, attempting another Knockback Jinx, aimed directly for Scott's face. Scott performed a leap of his own to catch it, smacking it straight back at its caster, who deftly evaded it. It crackled and fizzed against the timber flooring as the next lines of the song played.

"'Cause I'm just a soul whose intentions are good

Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood."

Their battle continued in that vein for some time, with Latin music underscoring the shouting of Latin words. Alex found herself enthralled as she watched the two trade hexes and curses as easily as they would trade their usual snide barbs. As things progressed, they became quicker in their motions. Their movements were grander, yet more precise – instilled with the mounting frustrations that had been lying dormant in their hearts. Their spellwork was also gradually becoming more complex, though interspersed with the occasional simple jinx.

In Scott's taunting, he had managed to precisely label what the duel would become. Amidst the catchy, upbeat music still blaring from the device at Scott's hip, the increasing intensity and passion of their movements had actually given the bizarre appearance of some sort of competitive dance. Skeres' movements were clearly based on her dancing training, and though Scott's movement style was markedly different from his opponent's – with a lesser focus on agility and fluidity – he was still more than capable of matching her motion-to-motion.

"Densissimi!"

"Locomotor Wibbly!"

"Baby, don't you know I'm just human

And I've got thoughts just like any other man?"

Skeres' legs suddenly crumpled underneath her, interrupting the fully extended pointe that Skeres had been drifting about on. As she met the ground painfully, Scott was struggling against an unseen force, seemingly pushing against hyper-dense air. As they both struggled with their own predicaments, an observation that Alex had made drew itself to the forefront of forethought. The duel was taking an inordinate amount of time to finish; both parties seemed evenly matched. But surely they'd get desperate to end it eventually? Desperate enough that they might resort to darker, more dangerous spells?

"And sometimes I feel myself alone, regretting

Some foolish thing, some foolish thing I've done."

She watched as Scott dragged his wand-point from where Skeres was attempting to rise to her feet. She watched as he instead muttered the counter-charm to his enemy's spell, restoring his free movement as Skeres finally managed to do the same for herself. She swiftly rose to her feet, no doubt well practiced at recovering from sudden falls, and suddenly the bout had returned to its previous quick-paced excitement.

Scott wants the duel to continue. He's delaying finishing her off.

The realisation hit Alex all at once. She was almost certain she knew why, too, and her anxiety suddenly increased ten-fold.

Carter's wand lashed out again, and almost instinctively, Scarlett executed a grand sissone ouverte a la seconde de côté to avoid it (that is to say, she performed an impressive side-jump with a graceful one-footed landing), letting his highly ironic Dancing-Feet Hex harmlessly pass her by.

Another spell – a Trip Jinx – came speeding towards her. She let her left leg – the one she had landed on – bend further into a plié, before uncoiling. She let it carry her back the way she came, deftly avoiding the orange coil that would have upended her. She landed in the fifth position, prepared for a further storm of spellfire.

Try as she might, she was struggling to fully centre herself in light of the moron that she was facing. She'd wanted to believe that the lack of variation and inventiveness that he had been applying was resultant from his natural stupidity, but as things had progressed, she'd realised what was more likely.

Carter was toying with her. It was clear from the lack of conditions he'd presented, and from his present actions. It was true that his offensive strategy had thought behind it; a particular focus on the legs and feet would disable her nicely. She relied on her ability to move about swiftly to gain an upper hand; taking that away could mean instant success for the fool. But there was an obvious hitch in that scheme of his.

"Densaugeo!"

"Lubcricus!"

The floor at her feet was suddenly shining as though newly polished, reflecting the approaching light of her jinx that Carter had promptly rebuffed. But once again, Scarlett's skill brought her from danger. From fifth position she enacted an extended glissade that carried her across the now-frictionless timber, as though she were ice skating. Landing on the balls of her feet, again in fifth, she gestured with her wand, muttering, "Attritorno." The glistening surface returned to normal.

Carter had missed far more often than he'd made purchase, failing to end the fight – she was simply too quick for him. Why then hadn't he altered his strategy? The only explanation that would make sense for Carter's twisted psyche was that he was quite literally trying to force her to dance. To keep her on her toes, moving from point-to-point en pointe, like some sort of sick game. He'd accepted the duel under the showy façade of approaching it with the utmost seriousness, but now he was shamelessly using it to provoke her. He'd taken an Unbreakable Vow, putting his own life on the line, risking his friend's position on the Quidditch team, and now he wasn't even giving their fight the respect it deserved.

That was what she truly hated most about Carter. His approach to life seemed to be to put on the careless airs of unlimited confidence – as though he knew he was bound for success. That was an obnoxious trait by its lonesome, but it wasn't even the worst part. It was the simple fact that it seemed to work for him. It was as though he excelled at everything – everything but Potions, though he managed to make that her problem in the process – despite a lack of true dedication to any craft. Meanwhile, her endless effort and determination seemed to amount for naught in comparison.

Momentarily caught up in her frustrations, she wasn't quite quick enough to avoid Carter's next spell.

"Colloshoo!"

Scarlett suddenly found her feet firmly glued to the floor. She silently cursed herself. What would her ballet mistress have said about that blunder? Before Carter could take advantage of her sudden immobility, she directed her wand at her feet. "Relashio!"

The satin fabric that bound her pointe shoes to her feet was cast loose from her lower legs, and – wasting no time – she sprang from the slippers, tumbling in a cartwheel (she definitely knew what her ballet mistress would say to that) to avoid Carter's follow-up curse. Her bare feet met the cold ground, and she found herself thankful to her past self for choosing a duelling venue with wood floor, rather than stone.

"Vermillious!" Carter shouted.

A long line of crimson burst from the tip of his wand, darting up over her head. There, it suddenly began to drop and disperse into a brilliant shower of burning sparks. The flaring points of light were descending too widely for her to dart away, and leaping from their path would only endanger her more. She suddenly dropped, sliding swiftly into a front split, with her wand pointed directly overhead. After shrieking out an Air-Thickening Charm, she chanced a glance to see the scarlet shower slow as it reached where her head had been less than a second ago.

Twisting her legs up into a crouch, she performed a forward roll. Behind her, Carter's red rain of fire began to dissipate as it traversed dense resistance, though enough broke through the barrier she'd placed to make her feel very glad about her new position, even if she was slightly closer to Carter than was safest.

Coming out of her roll, Scarlett sprang to her feet, this time aiming directly for Carter's bludgeoning tool. "Finite Incantatem!"

Carter batted it away casually, dispelling the hyper-dense air behind her. She supposed there must be more to the artificing that went into enchanting Beaters' bats than a simple Redistribution Charm in order to deflect a dispelling Counter-charm.

Before Scarlett could throw another incantation his way, Carter suddenly cried, "Fumos!" and a great cloud of smoke filled her vision. Carter shouted again, "Ventus!"

The grey haze was suddenly upon her, rushing against her body and face in a strong wind. She felt smoke fill her mouth, and then she was doubled over, coughing at the sudden coarseness of her throat. She could hear Carter repeating the spells, and by the time she had recovered, all she could see was a heavy cloud of smog. She was effectively blind, unable to see more than a foot in front of her. Bringing her hand to her mouth in an attempt to prevent any further toxic inhalations, she began to creep forward. She could hear the music from Carter's bizarre Muggle device up ahead. It had changed slightly and the singing seemed to have ceased. She slowly made her way towards the sound, careful to not make any of her own.

As she moved, she considered this sudden change in tactics. While she couldn't see, neither could he. In addition, she was far stealthier than he could ever hope to be, even without the blaring music that made him into a beacon of sound. Again, she couldn't quite bring herself to chalk this new strategy up to his inherent idiocy. He'd surprised her already with the utilising of his bat – she didn't want to find herself underestimating him again, lest she be caught off guard and humiliated.

She found herself resentfully respecting that way that Carter had turned the duel on its head. She'd gone in with the full expectation that she'd have the upper hand – she'd considered the realities of what she knew, and come to the calculative conclusion that while Carter may be quick and manoeuvrable in the air, if he were grounded he'd be as ineffective as a bird with its wings clipped. Despite this, he'd managed to turn this weakness into strength, and had more than made up for his lack of agility and speed with the ability hold himself firm, with dual tools that allowed for a simultaneously defensive and offensive approach.

Suddenly, the source of music that she'd been tracking began to move. The increasingly exciting tune was now shuffling around, trying to make a beeline to her left. She made to head it off, but stopped herself short as a horrible realisation occurred to her. This had to be a ploy, a ruse that he'd set up. The filthy Muggle machine was almost certainly not on Carter, instead being levitated by him whilst he lurked out of sight, waiting for her to give away her position. Smirking at the knowledge that Carter's scheme had been foiled, Scarlett began to look around, attempting to peer through the cloudy gloom.

Where would he hide? she asked herself. She thought he might be opposite where the music device was now hovering, perhaps attempting to flank her. That would mean that he could be standing mere feet away, grinning that stupid grin, his wand raised and ready to finish her off. Well, she wasn't about to let him have the satisfaction –

"Scared, Skeres?"

It was Carter's voice from behind her. It had been a reverse ruse; Carter was still with the device. Spinning on the spot, Scarlett cried, "Flipendo!" without an ounce of hesitation, putting as much as she could muster into the spell. Blue light blasted forth, and Scarlett heard a groan, and then a painful-sounding crash. She darted towards the sound, ready to finally destroy the insolent prat, when she collided with something small that was hovering in mid-air. It was Carter's device.

She heard a distinct snicker from behind her, but she didn't twirl back around to try to see who was there. She already knew who it was, which meant that the one she had actually jinxed...

She saw the musical machine zoom upwards, out of the blanket of fog. Carter had recorded himself on the device at some point before the duel, and used it to fool her twice over. Fool her into incapacitating Emile, her Second, who would replace her in the duel should she fall. So that if she did fail to beat Carter, there would be no-one to take her place. Carter, as dictated by Code Duello, was not permitted to attack an opponent's Second if they weren't already doing battle. So he had used her instead. And she had fallen for it.

Torn between checking to see if Emile was alright, and cursing Carter into non-existence, she instead opted to dart away before Carter could take advantage of her shaken state.

Attempting to keep her heartbeat steady, and her raging emotions in check, she considered her next move. She desperately wanted to hit him with the hardest spell that she had, but she couldn't waste it. A Shield Charm would stand no chance against what she had in mind, but considering what she'd seen of the Redistribution Charm, she wasn't too sure it could push through that. Of course, that was the least of her problems with a thick sheet of smoke keeping her blinded. If she didn't get rid of it soon, Carter was sure to unleash some other sick trick that took advantage of her impaired vision. If only she knew how to summon wind like Carter seemed to be able to. Then she could just blow it all away...

Suddenly, a Light Charm went off in her head, and she began considering how to go about achieving her plan. In the meantime, she thought she might keep Carter occupied, as well as give him a warning. She wanted him to suffer, but what she had in mind could be seen as almost too cruel. It would be fairer to give him an opportunity to relent now, before it was too late.

"Carter, I'm offering this to you now," she spoke into the drifting smoke, careful not to inhale a degree that would cause another coughing fit. "Accept defeat and my conditions, and we can end this idiocy before things get nastier."

She squinted through the dark, looking for her target. There. The flickering light of the lantern she and Emile had brought with them was emanating from the other end of the room. "Wingardium Leviosa," she murmured, too quiet for Carter to hear over the vicious storm and quickly accelerating music.

A few moments passed in which the tone-bearing device seemed to move, judging by the sound. After a number of seconds, it drifted back up above their heads. From it, Scarlett heard Carter's reply, its volume setting apparently having been raised to make it audible.

"You know I've got you, Skeres. You can't pirouette your way out of this one."

Scarlett closed her eyes, shielding them from the smoke. And then she began to envision the room as she'd known it. The door, the balustrade Croaker had been watching from, the tiered seating, the desks and chairs, and behind those; Emile and the Mudblood Metamorphmagus. She recalled what was behind the Mudblood. She moved her wand, inching the lantern closer to its destination.

"Just give me the gold, Carter."

The lantern drifted closer. In her mind's eye she could see it mere feet away.

"Over my dead body, Skeres."

Scarlett smirked. "That's the general idea," she said, and she drew back her wand, before whipping it back.

A momentous crashing sound filled the room, followed by a deafening rush of wind. The smoke billowed, swept up and away by the storm that had entered through the shattered window. Carter stood across from her, coughing violently as smoke, snow, and steam blew past him. There you are.

As though carving a shape in the air itself, Scarlett began gesturing her wand in a complicated pattern. She drew up all the passionate hatred she felt and instilled it into the incantation, finally finishing with a shout.

"Daeni Aiftaras!"

A disk of darkness, with deep scarlet at its core, discharged itself from her wand. It launched at the distracted Carter, who attempted to swing his bat to parry it back. He missed, and the disk seemed to lodge itself into his chest. A flickering crimson glow shone where his heart was, before disappearing, as though incorporating itself into him.

Scarlett stood shivering in the suddenly frightening cold, but she found herself caring little. She'd done it. Her mother's spell, the one Scarlett had so desperately requested she teach her, would be Carter's destruction. Now he'll see... Scarlett thought, Now he'll know.

Carter stood rooted to the spot, examining where the curse had entered his body with a mixed expression of shock and curiosity. His Beater's bat dropped to the ground, clunking dully on the timber, which was now being steadily covered by snow. Scarlett saw the Mudblood poke her head out from over the desk that she cowered behind, shards of glass sticking to her blond hair. Carter's hand suddenly extended, and into it fell the device. He looked at it – almost expectantly – as it crooned song lyrics. Then another voice joined its chorus – a voice horribly familiar.

"Daeni Aiftaras! Daeni Aiftaras! Daeni Aiftaras! Daeni Aiftaras!"

She listened as her own voice echoed back at her, as though each curse was redirected back at her by Carter's club. The frigid gale seemed to seep into her body, and she felt suddenly far more exposed in her leotard and tights than she had a minute ago. Carter's eyes met hers, and in them she saw a glint of something – as though he'd achieved something, gained something far greater than gold. This had been his plan all along.

She could not retake what had been taken, reclaim the secret that she had sworn to protect, repair the trust that she had broken.

Carter smirked, clipping the infernal device to his waist.

Unless I can break him first.

Alex beheld the disaster unfolding before her with a manner similar to the way one watches a vehicular accident. Skeres, shaking from head to toe, whether from the cold or fury, had begun to unleash a volley of spells. They were coming quick, and Scott was forced to dodge some, while deflecting others. He didn't seem to be as affected by Skeres' curse as Alex had expected, though this did little to settle her fears.

She thought she might now understand why it was called the 'Curse of the Consumed'. In Scott's relentless drive for answers and experience, he had been entirely consumed by his thirst for knowledge, and had now fallen victim to the spell he had been trying to lure Skeres into using. Skeres, in turn, had also fallen victim to her own curse. She'd granted Scott what he had wanted when she'd let herself be consumed by her desperation to prove herself Scott's better.

Opposite Skeres, Scott had discarded the frugal strategy he'd been employing previously. He was working both arms furiously, jabbing his wand while simultaneously swinging his bat. Skeres was hard pressed to avoid the double spells that were now being loosed her way. She dodged the reflected Body-Bind, but ended up in the path of the staggered Stinging Jinx that Scott had cast her way. Hissing in pain, she threw a Bat-Bogey Hex back, which he parried with perfect precision. At the same time, he incanted, "Delebo Eos!"

Skeres, in an impressive display of flexibility, bent backwards. The Bludgeoning Charm sailed over her stretched form, while her legs followed, her arms supporting her in a handstand. The reflected Bat-Bogey Hex approached as Skeres pushed off the ground with her arms, letting the sizzling orb of sickly green pass underneath. She landed on her feet, completing the handspring with a screeched, "Incendio!"

Skeres' wand was suddenly a flamethrower; belching a stream of fire that Scott was forced to leap away from. The blaze sprung up in a wall before him, and in moments had begun to spread across the timber flooring, fuelled by the gale that gusted in over Alex's head. Before Alex could so much as scream, Scott – refusing to panic – had thickened the air around the flames with the same charm that Skeres had used. A Stinging Jinx came his way, as quick as an arrow. He narrowly deflected it, though he stumbled as he did. He turned on his feet unsteadily, and threw his Beater's bat ahead of him, before throwing himself.

The roll he executed was clumsy, but it got him to the end of the fire wall furthest from the shattered window, as well as avoided the Knockback Jinx that had followed Skeres' previous jinx. Alex could see that despite Scott's Air-Thickening Charm, the wind was still managing to push the fire on. She saw the wall of flame snake towards Scott who crouched at its end, swapping his wand into his right hand, and taking up the tossed bat in his left.

"Ventus!" he cried.

Scott's own gust of wind barrelled into the line of fire, blowing opposed to the storm that carried itself through the window. The gales met in the midst of the dampened fire, causing the tongues of flame to be pushed against one another. And as surely as the energy of a Bludger must go somewhere, so must the extreme heat of fire, and where the blaze met, it began to rise. Scott swung his bat at Skeres' next spell – a Slug-Vomiting Curse if Alex was not mistaken – though he only barely managed to meet it in time.

Eventually, the fire – trapped between two concentrated winds, smothered by cold snow, and struggling to spread in condensed air – began to die out. Scott slowly climbed to his feet, sweat dripping from his brow. He seemed utterly exhausted, as though the duel had taken a severe toll on his physical wellbeing. Alex knew at once that this wasn't normal. She'd seen Scott run laps of the lake, spend whole minutes on consecutive push-ups, sit-ups, and jumping jacks, and still be ready for more. She'd never known his stamina to waver to this degree, and she thought she knew why.

Skeres seemed to know, too. She had slowed her assault, and was smirking openly, though her eyes still glittered with rage.

"Baby, sometimes I'm so carefree

With a joy that's hard to hide."

"Furnunculus!" Scott spat out.

But the spell was clumsily aimed, and Skeres barely had to step aside to avoid it.

"And sometimes it seems that all I have to do is worry

And then you're bound to see my other side."

Alex knew that if Scott went down, then she might be next. But Scott had insisted several times that Skeres would likely declare satisfaction if she managed to take him down, which meant that she would be automatically made victor.

"Skeres doesn't hate you, at least not in the same way she does me," Scott had said during one of their duelling practices. "She won't get anything out of taking you down. She'd be happier whispering insults and slurs in earshot. You won't even need to fight," he'd said while adjusting Alex's stance. "Not that you'd need to worry. Even if she does take me down - which won't happen - your technique's looking loads better already."

But Skeres looked as though she was about to take Scott down, and that would mean that each and every condition that Skeres had put down would have to be fulfilled, lest Scott meet his untimely death.

"I did try to give you an out, you know," Skeres sneered, her teeth chattering. "But you wouldn't take it, just as how you won't stop now. This is all on you."

Scott hurled another hex her way, which she ducked. He clutched his chest as the spell left his wand, staggering on the scorched wood. The hands that clutched the two lengths of wood were coated in perspiration, and he was breathing heavily. There was still steam drifting from his ears from the Pepperup Potion.

Skeres wasn't even bothering to retaliate with any spells of her own. She seemed to operating under the impression that Scott would finish himself off. She slowly approached, her hands tightly hugging herself as bracing from the cold.

"The Curse, as you've probably worked out, eats away at your energy with every spell you cast. The more you give, the more it takes away. By the time it's done: whatever heart you had will be shrivelled and deadened."

Scott fired a Knockback Jinx, which missed completely. He tried a Trip Jinx, which Skeres casually leaped over. He loosed an entire string of spells, each of them missing its mark in some way or another. Skeres was mere feet away from Scott now.

Desperately, Alex looked up at Ethan, hoping that he could pull something that could prevent what was about to happen. She saw that he was standing straight, his face expressionless, watching the two below. It was clear that he was simply waiting for the inevitable. Alex blinked. For the strangest moment, she thought she had seen two figures standing at the balustrade, but upon closer inspection, she saw that it was only Ethan. Her eyes were evidently playing tricks on her in the dark.

"Take it, then." Scott's voice sounded strained, as though each word was a struggle. He was on his knees now, his shoulders slumped. "I've got the gold here."

"Yes, I think I will," Skeres said, her wand pointed at Scott's face. She leaned over, and her eyes seemed to settle on something. "I think I'll take that, too," she added, smirking. She scooped up Scott's wand – the wand that always seemed to work so well for him. The wand that had begun to vibrate angrily in her small hand.

"What the – ?" Skeres managed.

"Petrificus Totalus," said Scott.

The wand clattered to the floor, and Skeres – whose face had become rigid with shock – fell forward, stiff as a board.

Scott's eyes drooped as he looked at the wand, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Particularly fine-tuned, indeed."

And he collapsed, the last of his strength spent.

Alex stood silent, taking in the scene before her. Pieces of glass were sprinkled in with the snow that continued to blow in through the broken window. A decently large patch of timber was scorched, and coated in a layer of ash. A few desks were damaged, or overturned. Scott and Skeres lay motionless side-by-side, both consumed by temptation and drive, and now thoroughly beaten by their own hubris. Alex turned around, and incanted, "Reparo." The window pieced itself back together from the glass of the window that remained, as well as the remnants of the shattered lantern. Scott's walkman had ceased playing, and in the sudden stillness Alex heard a sound from behind her.

She spun back around to see something that truly terrified her. Pellon had dragged himself out from between an alcove between the tiered seating and was inching his way towards Skeres' prone form, his wand raised. She saw his intention, and knew that she had to stop it, for all of their sakes.

"Wait!" she cried. "Don't do that just yet!"

Pellon glanced up at her, shrugged, and then kept moving towards the paralysed girl.

"If you undo the spell, and she declares satisfaction, that won't mean she wins! Scott beat her. That means a stalemate or it means a win for him!"

Pellon hesitated as he reached Skeres motionless body. He glanced up at Ethan, who was quietly watching the proceedings.

"Er, look... If you can rouse Scott, Alex, then maybe that would be true," Ethan intoned ruefully. "But as it is, the spell on Skeres isn't an automatic lose for her. She still actually has her weapon, and she's still conscious. When Pellon takes the Body-Bind off her, she's still better off in the duel, which muddies things a bit. Duels only properly end when someone wins, or both parties agree to mutually end the duel."

Alex looked beseechingly at him, feeling betrayed by his unhelpfulness. Surely there was another way of reading the code that didn't put things so unfairly in the challenger's favour? Pellon had rolled Skeres face-up, and his wand was raised over her still body.

"Wait! How about a deal? I can make an Unbreakable Vow," she practically begged. "I swear that knowledge of the Curse of the Consumed won't leave this room. We won't reveal its secrets to anyone. We'll pretend we never saw it!"

Pellon squinted at her. "What, then, would we do about this duel?" he asked sceptically.

"We duel. You and me," she decided, feeling as reckless as Scott. "They made us their Seconds, and that means they trust us enough to handle things for them."

Alex stopped short of crossing her fingers as Pellon looked down at Skeres. The two Slytherins exchanged a long look full of meaning, and though Skeres' face was immobile, her eyes seemed to convey the utmost level of trust. Pellon looked back up at Alex.

"None of you will speak of the Curse to anyone once this is over," he said crisply. "Not you, not Croaker, and least of all Carter."

He put his wand in his pocket, and slid his arms underneath Skeres. He lifted with surprising strength for his size, and began carrying the small girl over to the side of the room where he had previously been.

"Of course," she said feverishly. "I'll make an Unbreakable -"

"Not necessary," Pellon interrupted her whilst wrapping Skeres in a warm bed of her discarded clothes. "You'd need a Bonder, and I really don't feel like teaching the Frog how to cast the spell. Just make sure to keep your word, and things will go smoothly for you."

Alex nodded wordlessly, not trusting herself to speak for fear of her voice breaking. As she moved Scott's unconscious form to the side of the room (facing a degree more difficulty with the task than Pellon had), she furiously tried to estimate Pellon's duelling prowess. In all their preparation, they had focused far more on Skeres, and on how to defeat her. Pellon's own fighting style and strategies were effectively a mystery to her. Scott had found absolutely nothing in the library on the Pellon family, or their duelling history, which had left him entirely stumped.

He was small, though not as small as Skeres. It was entirely possible that he'd use agility and speed in the same way that they'd though Skeres would. Pellon wasn't slipping on any dancing shoes as far as she could tell, so she could at least be assured he wasn't about to come at her in a leotard.

Once Scott was safely entrenched behind a desk, with his wand securely tucked into his pocket, she returned to the centre of the snow-swept room. She picked up the club that had been dropped by Scott, holding it ready in her left hand. She was better with both arms than Scott was, which meant that she wasn't about to struggle with accuracy. Unfortunately, she didn't have the element of surprise.

Pellon stood opposite her, and she felt a chill when she saw that he was holding two wands, one in each hand. Evidently, Skeres' wand trusted him enough to let him use it. She wasn't sure that Scott's wand would allow her the same privilege. She watched Pellon, while he watched her. She found herself considering him; not his potential techniques, but him. She couldn't help but wonder at why he would dedicate himself so fully to defending Skeres, who was so vile and full of hatred.

He wonders the same about me, no doubt, she realised. We're similar in that regard. Scott's made mistakes, and still I stand by him, no matter what.

To some degree, she thought she might understand Pellon, who had seemed so quiet and friendless on the Hogwarts Express, according to Scott. Just like she had been. Perhaps they were more alike than she might have thought; it was fitting, then, that they should both duel one another as Seconds. No doubt, both felt that they owed their respective friend a great deal.

"If the Duellists could bow?" Ethan murmured.

They did so.

"Wands at the ready."

They held their wands out like swords.

"Begin!"

"Vos Scandali!" she cried.

"Locomotor Mortis!" was Pellon's dual-cast.

"Protego!" called a third voice.

Three spells hit a transparent wall of magic, before bouncing off in random directions, and with a thrill of horror, Alex turned towards the man who stood at the door. Pellon watched the newcomer with far more defiance than Alex felt. The untidy brown hair and furious face of Professor Foley was illuminated by the light at his wand-tip.

"Would someone mind explaining what is going on here?"

None of them had an immediate answer for him. His eyes slid over the carnage that had been wrought, in the midst of which stood Alex and Pellon, before drifting up and finding Ethan. His face fell, and he began looking to and fro, searching for someone. "Where is he?" he asked her.

His eyes followed her anxious ones, and then he moved over to the desk where Scott lay, stepping up onto the first tier of the platform. He knelt behind the desk, muttering, "Rennervate."

Alex glanced at where Pellon had been, only to find that he'd slipped away. Glancing around, she saw that he had moved over to where Skeres was, and had unbound her from Scott's curse. The girl was climbing to her feet, pulling her robes back on.

"Scott? Scott," Foley was saying.

Alex could see Scott stirring, his eyes flickering. She saw his half-opened eyes land on Foley, before they shut tight, his entire face changing to the colour it usually was during morning exercise. He turned his head away, so that Alex couldn't see his face from where she was standing. There was still steam drifting from his ears.

Foley sighed. "Get up, Scott."

Obediently, Scott tried to sit up – an emphasis on tried.

"What happened to you?" Foley asked, pulling him up after he failed.

Scott shook his head. Foley narrowed his eyes, and began to wave his wand around Scott in a motion reminiscent of Muggle security waving metal detectors.

"Sir?" Alex piped up waveringly, glancing uncertainly at the Slytherins who were standing by. "He was hit with a pretty powerful curse."

"Yes, I can see that," Foley replied grimly, looking up. "But what exactly –" He faltered when he saw Skeres for the first time. His eyes narrowed again, and his head span back around to look at Scott.

"Tell me you didn't," he demanded. "Scott, you don't know what –"

"Sir," she tried, "please, Scott didn't mean to –"

"Please do not attempt to defend him, Alex," Foley reproached. "Excuses are not what he needs right now. Ethan, come down here."

Ethan's shadowed face left the alcove he'd been watching from. Foley pulled Scott – who was resolutely looking anywhere but him – into a chair. Then he turned to Skeres. "I don't suppose there's a counter-curse?"

She merely shook her head in response.

Ethan emerged through the open door, glancing at Alex and Scott. His mouth was turned down at the corners, and his green eyes were like hard stones. Foley watched them all with a similar expression, his face brimming with disappointment.

"I think it goes without saying that you all ought to be ashamed of yourselves," he said, his voice cold and quiet. "The damage that you've brought to school property – to the castle, itself – isn't even the worst part.

"Certain of you may have come to support your friends, but that doesn't excuse being out after curfew and participating in a dangerous duel, putting yourself and your peers at risk. As for those who brought you here; Scott, Scarlett," he addressed the two personally, "you should know better than to abuse your friends' loyalty like this. I found Alex and Emile moments from cursing each other into oblivion because of your selfishness!

"To say that I'm disappointed would be an understatement. Scarlett, I'd hate to see what your father would say if he could see you now. Scott, I'd hoped that you'd be able to take a mature stance going forward, but you've proven me wrong. Horribly wrong."

Scott's head was bowed. Alex might have believed that he was unconscious again if she hadn't seen his hands tensing as they gripped one another. His face was still the dark, rich colour that looked unseasonably warm; his lips firmly pursed to hide their tremble. She felt guilt and sympathy that she thought was probably unwarranted, perhaps even undeserved, which just made her feel even more guilty for feeling it in the first place.

"You'd be a poor friend to make a habit of using the people who trust you to settle petty debts and disputes. If you wished to gain something from tonight – some lesson or piece of knowledge – let it be that. Now, I regret the necessity, but I'll be taking ten points from each of you."

The loss of so many points hit her harder than any spell could, and she could see from the reactions of the others that they felt similarly.

"Rest assured, I will be taking this to Professor Dumbledore. In the meantime, I'll be taking you all back to where you belong. Scarlett, Scott, you're to come to the Hospital Wing."

"Belay that measure, if you please, Foley," came a voice from above.

Alex looked up at the fourth floor classroom to see a man standing where Ethan had been a minute ago.

"Mr Skeres?" Foley asked in surprise. "I didn't realise that you were still here."

Skeres? Alex wondered.

"Dad!?" the Slytherin girl exclaimed.

"Quite," the man answered.

So this was the Titus Skeres that ran the wizarding newspaper, 'The Daily Prophet', the father of Scarlett. The two looked hardly alike at all! Alex supposed that Skeres – the younger, female one – had inherited more physically from her mother than father.

"Scarlett, dear, would you mind coming up to me?"

"Actually Mr Skeres, your daughter's just been hit with several spells, it may be better –"

"I'll decide what is best for my daughter, thank you, Professor Foley. Scarlett?"

"Yes, Daddy," Skeres answered, and she scooped up her ballet slippers and darted out the door. Pellon followed close behind her.

Foley looked as though he wanted to argue, but seemed to give up, shaking his head tiredly. It said a lot that Scott hadn't as much as sniggered at how Skeres had addressed her father. She didn't even know if he'd heard.

Foley sighed. "Come on; Scott, you need Madam Pomfrey; Alex, Ethan, you need bed."

Scarlett approached the door that stood ajar – the very same one that she and Carter had tumbled through, where they had met with an unlikely audience. She stopped when her father met her at the threshold. She saw him turn to look at Emile, and for a moment he seemed to be appraising him. Emile met his intense gaze cautiously, though her father had already broken eye contact.

"You alone, please, Scarlett," her father said. "Your... friend can manage without you, I'm sure."

Scarlett looked at Emile apologetically, to which he nodded. "I'll just meet you in the common room, then?" he asked, a bite of nervousness in his normally level voice.

"Sure," she said, trying to smile.

She followed her father into the classroom. She frowned as he closed the door, locked it with a muttered, "Alohomora," and proceeded to incant further as he swished his wand about towards the walls and balustrade.

"I would prefer to not be overheard," he said when he was done. "I'm sure you understand the importance of keeping things a secret, sunshine." He quirked an eyebrow.

She felt her bottom lip tremble. So he already knew. "I'm sorry –" she gasped out.

He shook his head, taking a knee so that he could be at eye level with her. "Never mind that, now. What's done is done; you know that, at least."

She nodded, wiping at her suddenly sodden eyes. "The Mudblood Professor –"

"The points that he stole from Slytherin can be regained. You'll do all you can to get them back."

"Emile will do most of it," she said, her voice tight. "He gets far more points than I do. But I'll do as much as I can."

"Yes... Your friend, Pellon," her father murmured. "I do have something I'd like to speak with you about in regards to him."

She blinked, wondering what that could mean.

"But before I can broach that joyful topic, I'd like to see if you could do something for me, sunshine." He watched her expectantly.

"Anything!"

He gave her a warm smile, which was very suddenly replaced by a look of utmost seriousness. "Professor Foley," he said. "He's hiding something big. Something that if we found out what it was, it could serve our family immensely. Ordinarily, I'd deal with these sorts of things by myself, but I think I am right in thinking you are trustworthy enough for this task."

She nodded fervently, more than ready to make up for her mistakes.

"I want you to keep an eye on Foley," he told her. "That Mudblood's as slippery as a snake, but you're well-positioned to get in his business, to keep track of whatever it is that he's up to. And," he added, his lips quirking, "if you do well enough, I see no reason as to why your mother should find out that you let her secret slip."

Scarlett's heart rate picked up, and she felt a leaping sensation quite opposed to the way she'd typically felt in these cold climes. Her mother didn't have to know! Her faith in her wouldn't be shaken, her trust unbroken! She felt a squirm of guilt at the thought of keeping the truth from her, but if her father thought it was okay, then it had to be.

"I'll do it," she announced. "Whatever Foley's hiding, I'll soon know."

"Make me proud, Scarlett," her father said. His face suddenly shifted to the image of seriousness again. "Now, I think it's time we spoke of your friend."

She was suddenly struck by a sense of foreboding. "What is it, Dad?"

"I decided to look into his history – of my own volition, of course. I recall just how distressed you were that you didn't know nearly as much about him as he knew of you."

She nodded, feeling another squirm of guilt. It had been slightly underhanded, the way that she'd managed to not-quite-ask her father to investigate Emile. But she had had good intentions - Emile had constantly listened to her emote; it was only fair that she was able to help him back.

"What I found disturbed me more than I can say. Perhaps you can make more sense of it than I can." He considered for a moment, while she waited with bated breath.

"It seems that there exists no Pellon family of wizards in either Great Britain, or France. Nor were any wizarding death certificates ever issued. I cannot find an aunt or uncle with custody over the boy, either."

Scarlett felt as if a part of her was drifting away, becoming unincorporated from her body. Only partially cognisant, she realised that she was slowly shaking her head. "Th - There must have been some sort of mix up. They're definitely real, Emile's definitely... He wouldn't lie about... He..."

"Again, maybe you can make more sense of it than I can," her father said, shrugging. "In any case, you really should visit to the Hospital Wing, if only to relieve you of your shivering."

And so she was, she noted disconnectedly. Her entire body was shaking violently, as though her bones were rattling about inside her, trying to escape. She felt faint, and was sure that her legs would give out beneath her. She breathed out shakily, and gave a high titter that sounded just a little bit too hysterical.

"Could you carry me there?" she whispered weakly.

He smiled sympathetically, and obliged.