The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.

Astoria Greengrass, who typically sat next to Colin Creevey in a majority of their shared classes, was extremely distraught about the whole matter. Fred and George appeared to be going about the wrong way to cheer her up. To Lyla's dismay and slight amusement, she had noticed that they were taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. Ginny Weasley was extremely angered by this, and would often chase her brothers away yelling horribly like their mother.

Over the semester, everyone was pleased to see that Ginny had reached out to the younger Greengrasss with friendliness, and now, whenever there was free time, one could always find them scuttling around the castle arm and arm.

"Glad she's found a friend in Ginny," Daphne said on a sunny Saturday morning. "You know, I was starting to get worried she'd have no friends— always been the odd one out, you know?"

"They seem to get along well enough," yawned Ron tiredly. "It's nice not having her hover around us for a change."

In the meantime, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. Neville Longbottom bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail before the other Gryffindor boys pointed out that he was in no danger; he was a pure-blood, and therefore unlikely to be attacked.

"They went for Filch first," Neville said, his round face fearful. "And everyone knows I'm almost a Squib."

In the second week of December, Snape came around, as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Lyla was very pleased when Daphne, Blaise, and Draco all signed their names to the list after she had. However, the pleasure had disappeared as soon as it had appeared, as she caught sight of Pansy's name scrawled just a few lines from where she had signed.

"Awfully suspicious," said Theo as they walked down to the dungeons for their shared potions class with the Gryffindors. "I wonder why she'd be willing to stay here when she's always bragging about her holiday trips with her parents…"

Thursday afternoon's lesson proceeded in the usual way. Twenty cauldrons stood steaming between the wooden desks, on which stood brass scales and jars of ingredients. Snape prowled through the fumes, making waspish remarks about the Gryffindors' work while the majority of Slytherins sniggered appreciatively. Lyla, along with her friends, remained stoned faced to their whispered jeers and jabs.

Lyla glanced at her sister's Swelling Solution and was shocked to see it was far too runny.

"Ara, your potion is a mess," she chided.

"Hm?"

Arabella looked extremely uninterested, and her gaze kept flitting to Hermione and away. She seemed to be waiting for something.

"What are you doing?" hissed Blaise, narrowing his gaze at Arabella with pure suspicion.

Arabella merely shook her head, motioning that no one speak. The moment the potions master turned, she ducked swiftly down behind her cauldron, pulled what looked to be one of the Weasley twin's Filibuster fireworks out of her pocket, and gave it a quick prod with his wand. The firework began to fizz and sputter.

"What are you–" began Daphne only seconds later to be interrupted by Ron picking it up and lobbing it high into the air; landing directly into Goyle's cauldron with a delicate splashing sound. The Slytherin boys potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Crabbe got a faceful and his nose began to swell like a balloon; Goyle blundered around, his hands over his eyes, which had expanded to the size of a dinner plate— Snape was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened. Through the confusion, Lyla watched wordlessly as Hermione slipped quietly into Snape's office.

"Silence! SILENCE!" Snape roared. "Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft— when I find out who did this—"

Both Ron and Arabella's mouths were clamped down with deliberation as the class was slowly settled. As half the class lumbered up to Snape's desk, some weighted down with arms like clubs, others unable to talk through gigantic puffed-up lips, Lyla once more saw Hermione slide back into the dungeon, the front of her robes bulging.

When everyone had taken a swig of antidote and the various swellings had subsided, Snape swept over to Goyle's cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. There was a sudden hush.

"If I ever find out who threw this," Snape whispered, "I shall make sure that person is expelled."

"He knew it was us," Ron told Arabella and Hermione as they hurried back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. "I could tell."

Hermione threw the new ingredients into the cauldron and began to stir feverishly. "It'll be ready in two weeks," she said happily. "Now all we have to do is wait now that the final ingredients have been added."

"Snape can't prove it was us," said Ron reassuringly to Arabella. "What can he do?"

"Knowing Snape, something foul," said Hermione as the potion frothed and bubbled.

"We need to be more discrete," said Ron after a pause, "Lyla was practically glaring daggers into us as we left."

"She's fine," sighed Arabella with a dismissive wave, "she's never been one to snitch, and if she confronts you, just lie and tell her you just really hate Snape or something, and you couldn't control yourself."

A week later, while Arabella, Hermione, and Ron were walking across the entrance hall, they caught sight of a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Seamus and Dean beckoned them over, looking excited.

"They're starting a Dueling Club!" said Seamus excitedly. "First meeting tonight!"

"I wouldn't mind dueling lessons," Ron mused, "they might come in handy one of these days..."

"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" asked Hermione with a snort.

"Could be useful," said Arabella with a shrug. "Shall we go?"

The small band of Gryffindors were all for it, so at eight o'clock that evening they hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited. it seemed as if everyone occupant of the castle was presents

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" shouted Daphne over the buzz of constant chatter. She, alongside Lyla and Blaise, had to shove their way through the crowd to get closer to their Gryffindor friends.

"Someone's just told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young—" said Blaise with a grin of excitement, "maybe it'll be him."

"As long as it's not —" Lyla began, but she ended on a groan: Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.

"Oh no," moaned Arabella, face paling. "We're all going to die..."

Lockhart waved an arm for silence.

"Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has permitted me to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions— for full details, see my published works."

Arabella was desperately trying to push herself free of the surrounding wall of students. She had decided that after his horrific spell on the Quidditch pitch, she had had quite enough of the man's magic.

"Now, now, let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you, youngsters, to worry— you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" muttered Ron to Dean with a snigger.

Snape's upper lip was curling. Arabella wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at him like that she'd have been running as fast as her legs would carry her in the opposite direction.

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Blaise murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth.

"One — two — three —"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

The Slytherins cheered, while Hermione and Daphne danced on tiptoes.

"Do you think he's all right?" Daphne squealed through her fingers.

"Who cares?" said Arabella and Lyla together.

"Oh no," groaned Hermione, face drained of color. "Oh no, he isn't getting up! He—"

Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm— as you see, I've lost my wand— ah, thank you, Miss Brown— yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy— however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."

Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me —"

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, then Hermione and Blaise. After he was done there, he caught sight of Lyla and beamed his blinding smile.

"Lyla, my dear Lyla! Oh! And if it isn't her sister too!"

'Kill us now please,' the redhead mouthed before being jauntily grabbed by the blonde man. Arabella was no luckier.

"I'm afraid you two should not be partnered together, no, no, that just won't do. Arabella, you should be partnered with… hmm… Mr. Zabini! And…. let's see… aha! Miss Parkinson, is it? I think you and Lyla would be wonderful dueling partners! Similar height, stature… a match made in heaven I say!"

P.S. If you could, if one has the time, please leave:

-Long comments
-Short comments
-Questions (if any)
-Kind criticism
-General feedback