Yeah, the usual stuff, I don't own Harry Potter, yada, yada, yada, you get the idea.

A Duel

Ryua was up in her room, thinking back on the past week. Miraculously, she and Draco had presented their marks (still intact; apparently Draco learned his lesson last year) without a hitch. Mother had praised their high Potions marks, and Father had let them go with a noncommittal grunt. He hadn't said anything about quidditch, and Ryua felt a small spark of hope begin. Maybe he hadn't heard anything, or had decided to be halfway decent for once and not curse Ryua for every possible reason.

And then, the owl from the ministry came.

Apparently, the ministry had finally wizened up to the fact that Father would do anything to control the Wizengammut and Ministry Council, including threats, lies, and bribery. He received the termination of employment notice in a fancy looking envelope on a fancy piece of parchment directly from Cornelius Fudge, and was quite incensed when he read the contents. By some fluke of chance, Ryua had been out at Pansy's for the night, so Draco and mother got the first wave of anger.

It was far too quiet when Ryua got home. Mother had locked herself in her room, Draco in his,(not that she knew that) and of course, no Dobby to welcome her back. (She missed the elf, but was actually glad he'd stood up for himself. That took guts) She quietly slipped off her floo shoes, dropped her bags by the fireplace for another elf to take to her rooms, and padded off quietly through the heavy air of the corridor. She rounded the corner to the sunroom and there was her father, reading a fancy letter of some kind on the dragonskin couch.

"Ryua," Lucius set down the letter, not even bothering to look up, speaking in a dangerous, soft voice "I hear you've been playing quidditch, against my authority?"

"Um..." Ryua stopped reluctantly, knowing she had no real choice in the matter. Oh, Salazar, she was in for it now, "I was just a temporary keeper for Bletchley..."

"Don't mock me." Now his voice was cold and hard as he turned to face his daughter in the doorway, "You played two games with the quidditch team. You can not possibly think I would believe the original keeper would be out of commission for that long?"

Ryua stood in the door, arms carefully at her sides, unable to speak in her own defense. (not that he'd listen anyways)

"Draco told me about everything, your average performance, how you snuck on at the last possible second when they couldn't make a change to the lineup,"

Ryua was starting to get quite incensed with her brother. Average? And it was his idea anyways! And then a second thought reached her: what could have convinced Draco to tell Father something that could get him in trouble too? Unless... he had no choice...Oh, shite, that's why no one was in sight. That letter must have bad news...

"Well, don't you have anything to say for yourself?" Lucius snapped, hitting the desk and making Ryua jump. He was just rising, wand coming up when...

"Expelliarmus!" Ryua hadn't been idle during the lecture, and had found her wand inside her own robes. Even before Father's wand made it to her hand, she cast the jelly-legs jinx to halt his progress towards her, and realized she enjoyed dueling even for real. As his wand landed neatly in her outstretched hand, a sense of relaxed, easy satisfaction came over her, and she drew back her own for a third spell when...

With a snarl, Lucius broke through the inexperienced spell, moving swiftly forward and hitting Ryua with a vicious backhand swing across her left cheek, his left hand wrenching his wand out of her grasp as she fell.

Ryua spun down, catching herself with her wand, tasting blood where her teeth had cut the cheek. Dimly she could see Father backing up to cursing distance, and she pushed herself up, her sense of pride refusing to meet him on her knees. She'd just straightened out when the spell knocked her back against the doorframe, hard wood grinding into her spine. The spell released and she staggered forward, just in time to get hit with the next one. Now there was no support behind her, and her wand had dropped from temporarily stunned fingers. She closed her eyes, which were feeding her pain-wracked brain nothing useful anyways and concentrated on weathering the curse.

Ryua felt herself blacking out and sank to her knees. Better to kneel than fall down in a swoon. Her father had moved around behind her now, as he couldn't afford to leave curse marks on her front where someone might see them. She was biting almost through her lip with the effort not to cry out or let a single tear trickle out, wishing for it to stop...

Without warning, Lucius lifted his wand, leaving Ryua gasping in the middle of his study and strode off to go mistreat the hippogriffs before he left permanent damage on his daughter.

The abrupt end to the pain hurt almost as much as the spells themselves. Ryua fell forward to her hands, and then opened her eyes, forcing them to focus around the room. Father was gone. Ryua didn't know where, but as long as it wasn't here, she didn't really care. Grabbing her wand, she pushed herself tiredly up, and stumbled out the door. She got up to her room somehow, leaning on walls and rails for support, and fell forward onto her bed, utterly exhausted. Ryua didn't even feel Parsyl move to curl protectively around her.

She woke up to someone smearing cooling gel on her tender back. She twisted up, hissed at the pain, and saw Draco sitting on her bed, just barely visible in the moonlight. Parsyl was nowhere to be seen. "Sorry it took me so long to get over here, Ryua, I couldn't risk getting out until Father went to bed. Now... this will go a lot easier if you stop... moving about so much," he said, for Ryua was twisting around, trying to face Draco.

"You. Little. Coward." Ryua pulled herself into a sitting position glaring at her brother. "What exactly did he do to you that made you betray me like that? How could you tell him, and especially the way you did? If you had left well enough alone..."

"What are you talking about?" Draco's voice sounded high, too casual.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Funny, how you didn't mention your part in smuggling me onto the team, or the fact that I outflew Bletchley ten times over." Ryua winced, falling back down to one elbow as her tense muscles pulled a particularly tender spot. "You're just lucky I can't seem to move properly, or I'd show you just what Father did to me."

"You do look pretty bad. Although, you weren't the only one to get cursed here, okay?"

"Oh, stuff it. You appear to be moving just fine tonight, no stiffness, dried blood, bruises..." She winced as her face pulled against the tender flesh of her left cheek.

"Bruises?" Draco looked puzzled. "Curses don't leave bruises."

"No, but fists do," Ryua grabbed the bottle out of Draco's hand, and started dabbing it gently on her cheek and jaw.

"What? He hit you?"

Ryua gave what could have been a laugh, except for the hiss of pain that interrupted it. "As if that's so much worse than usual. Yes, he hit me, then started in with the usual curses. I almost blacked out, actually, he was in quite a mood."

"Well, yeah, the ministry's fired him,"

For a second, Ryua savoured that thought, then scowled and said, "Lovely! More family time for us!"

"Right. Yeah. Hadn't thought about that... But he wasn't that mad with me, and mother seemed to get up to her rooms just fine. Why'd he hit you?

Ryua grinned, enjoying the memory, then grimaced as it pulled at her still-tender cheek. "Well, I was tired of always getting cursed and not doing anything. I tried to defend myself, and got him with two spells too. Of course, the only reason I got him was because he wasn't expecting it." Ryua's face set in a determined, far off stare and she said softly, "I'll just have to get better."

Draco looked sideways at her, sliding away as a slightly bloodthirsty expression came over her face. "Well, I think I'll just leave you to your planning..." He slipped quietly out the door, leaving Ryua to think about curses and revenge. Which she did, and so slept better than she had for weeks.