Chapter Nine: The Dueling Club
Later that night, Mungo became restless. He tossed and turned, having nightmares involving falling and large chunks of margarine.
Mungo got up out of his bed, and tiptoed out of the boys' dormitory. He went into the common room and looked at his potions homework. No, that was done. Mungo shifted some paper around and found his extra credit Transfiguration homework.
Assignment: Read Chapter Three to Six in 'Dust to Dust: Forgotten Transfiguration Spells of the Sixteenth Century' by Cardea Blodeuwedd.
Prof. McGonagall
Mungo shrugged and put the note in his pocket. He could go to the library to shake off his insomnia, and if he got into trouble with Filch he couldjust show the caretaker his assignment note.
Mungo threw on his cloak, put on his hat, and left the common room.
As he walked through the dark corridors, Mungo kept his ears keen to hear if anyone was coming. Passing by the third floor, he heard the sound of footsteps, and Mungo quickly crouched next to the base of a nearby statue, robes tucked around him and hat covering his face.
But it wasn't anyone important, just a small first-year with a bunch of grapes and a camera. Mungo pondered why a first-year would be wandering through the halls with a camera at night, let alone with a bunch of grapes. He shrugged, and moved on.
Mungo neared the library when he heard a scream coming from just down the corridor behind him. Panicked, Mungo ran into the library and hid behind the door. He heard a hissing sound, and he froze.
"Merlin's beard, th' basilisk!" He breathed. Then he held his breath in fear that the serpent might hear him.
There was the sound of someone falling, and then a curious clicking noise. The basilisk made an angry hissing noise, but then the hall fell silent.
Mungo poked his head out from behind the door, and didn't see any one. He cautiously lowered himself to the ground, and crawled along the wall of the corridor, not ashamed that he was acting like a rat.
Suddenly Mungo came upon the victim. It was the boy who had passed Mungo earlier. An expression of fear was on his face, though the camera that he had in his hands hid most of the expression. Apparently, the boy had seen the basilisk, ran, and then, despairing of escaping the serpent, had tried to take a picture.
Mungo heard voices coming from the stairway at the end of the hallway. Gasping, he quickly ran back inside the library. He had the presence of mind to go to the shelves where the book he needed were kept, which fortuitously were in the back. After a long pause, Mungo set to finding his book, which was rather difficult since he didn't have a lantern or torch. He finally found it, a nice book with a green cover.
Mungo crept to the front doors of the library, and stuck his head out, making sure that the coast was clear. No one was there, so he quickly ducked out and hurried along the walls. He had to get back to the Hufflepuff common room before Filch started swooping around like a vengeful demon.
Mungo also started pondering again. The victim had not been killed either, to the best of his knowledge. But Mungo was sure that a basilisk was the culprit, and he had never known basilisks to just petrify. But then, he had never known basilisks at all. Maybe the basilisk was just a very old, very weak one that didn't have its full killing power.
Slightly reassured, Mungo arrived at the Hufflepuff common room, and sat in an armchair. He found that he didn't want to study any more, and went back to bed.
"If ye're noot tired at Hogwarts, a wee stroll at night will cure ye." Mungo muttered as he fell asleep.
The next morning, expectantly, the school was absolutely teeming over about last night's attack. Students went about the place in fear that they would be the next victims, walking in tight groups.
Mungo had filled Duncan in on what he knew, and he was flabbergasted, if I may use the term for one studying history as avidly as Duncan.
"We should tell the teachers about this. So what if they don't believe us?" Duncan said as he scribbled in his homework.
"Duncan, we can' risk it. Ye see, if we goo oop t'them and see, 'The attacker is a baslisk,' farst they'll want t'knoo how it got here, which we doon't knoo, and who released it, which we only have a slight guess."
"Whoever is the Heir of Slytherin?" Duncan asked.
"Aye. An' we have three guesses as to who tha' would be. Malfoy, what's-'is-name, Erebus, and Morrigan."
"Now, Mungo, be reasonable. Just because you have a grudge against them doesn't mean that one of them might be the Heir." Duncan said. He knitted his eyebrows together. "Do you think Hubert the Hungry or Ptolemy invented the Lunascope?"
"I dunno, but tha's noot the issue right noo. I've been dooin' some research, and Malfoy's and Erebus' families were in Slytherin for generations, and Morrigan is the first in his family to not in Slytherin." Mungo said.
"How'd you find that out?" Duncan asked.
"There are records in the library of the students tha' went there. Jest aboot the only family more Slytherinised than the Malfoys ended with one Tom Riddle, who was in th' school fifty years ago." Mungo explained.
Duncan shrugged.
"Oh well, I think they'll catch him soon,"
Mungo shook his head.
"Duncan. They doon't have a clue who the Heir might be."
Duncan sighed and leaned his chair against the wall.
"And our defender against the forces of evil has less brains than a bundimun."
Mungo nodded, and looked at his course schedule.
"Speaking of bundimuns, we have t' goo t' his class noo." Mungo groaned. They got their equipment (homework from other classes to do while Lockhart wasn't watching,) and headed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Prof. Lockhart was in an unusually buoyant mood for someone who lived in a castle where someone might be petrified at the least chance.
"Come in! Come in! I have a terrific idea on my mind; I'll just let you read my books while I set it up." Lockhart waved them into their seats, and strode triumphantly from the room.
"This is the best idea Hogwarts has had for years," Mungo and Duncan heard Lockhart mutter gleefully.
"Wonder what his great idea is?" Duncan asked as the class erupted in talk.
"Maybe he's resigning. Tha' would resoond in Hogwarts' annals forever."
Duncan chuckled, and they joined in the chat, occasionally dodging parchment aeroplanes and pens and notebooks and things.
After their morning's lessons, they went down to the Great Hall for lunch. There was a large crowd of students gathered around the notice board, all very excited about something.
"Stee here, I can git through easier." Mungo told Duncan, and forged through the crowd. Since he was so skinny and tall, he managed to get to the front in good time.
There was a long sheet of paper with lines for signatures. Mungo read the top.
DUELING CLUBDEFEAT THE DARKNESS!
DEFEAT THE FEAR!
BECOME THE WAND-WIELDER OF LEGEND!
Mungo managed to squirm his way back outside the group back to Duncan, hat slightly askew.
"They've started a dueling club of some sort." Mungo said, setting his hat straight.
"Well, why didn't you sign up while you were in there?" Duncan asked.
"Well, I jes' thought it seemed a little loud. It said trash like defeatin' darkness and becomin' a somethin' of legend." Mungo explained. In reality, Mungo was thinking he had been stupid, not signing up when he had gone through all the trouble to get there.
"Well, we can have a closer look when the crowd's dispersed." Duncan rationalized.
So they waited, standing in the hall while the crowd ebbed and flowed, like a mass of fruit flies on some kind of food.
Finally Mungo's stomach gave a forceful reminder of how hungry Mungo was, and he said,
"Look, Duncan, I have to goo an' eat lunch, I'll sign up later." Mungo said, making anxious signs to go.
"All right, I'll catch up." Duncan said, absentmindedly watching the crowd.
Inspiration struck.
"Or ye could jes' sign me up." Mungo suggested.
Duncan raised an eyebrow, but didn't stop looking at the notice board.
"Okay, Mungo."
Mungo dashed off to the Great Hall, and he had never felt so grateful to Duncan in his life.
The next day the first meeting of the Dueling Club met. Mungo and Duncan were some of the first in the Great Hall to participate. They crowded around a raised platform, which was ornately detailed with moons and stars and things. Mungo looked around excitedly, looking for the person who would be teaching them. But Mungo couldn't see him.
"I wonder who's in charge o' this?" Mungo asked Duncan.
"I heard that Flitwick dueled a few times. But I think it's bosh. More likely we'll get Snape, or Professor McGonagall. "
Mungo looked around again, and saw Snape.
"Hey, Snape's over there." Mungo had a sudden childish urge to wave, but he resisted.
"And bundimun's over there…" Duncan said, depressed.
"What!" Mungo whipped his head back around. Striding cheerfully up to the stage, with the smile that could encompass all of his class, was Professor Lockhart.
"Oh no… We're not going to learn anything here. We might as well clear off." Mungo said, turning away.
"But what if Snape does something to him?" Duncan asked.
An image of Snape apologizing sneeringly to a mushroom appeared in Mungo's head.
"I'll stay." Mungo said decisively.
Lockhart started talking, but for some reason Mungo couldn't hear him.
"What, I'm sorry, I can't hear ye," Mungo said, but then his hearing returned and Lockhart was saying,
"Excellent. In light of the dark events of recent weeks, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Dueling Club, to train yourselves up, in case you ever have to defend yourselves, as I have done on countless occasions- for full details, see my published works." Lockhart swept his violet cloak from his shoulders, and it flew through the air. It landed with a soft swish over Mungo's head.
With shrieks of joy, several girls grabbed and clutched at him, to gain possession of Lockhart's cape. Mungo struggled to free himself, and fought out of the tangles with a vehement "Good riddance."
He looked back onto the stage to see that Snape had gotten on, and that Lockhart and the Potions Master had gone to other sides of the stage. They were holding their wands in very odd poses.
"As you can see, we have our wands in the accepted combative position."
"Accepted by who?" Duncan asked incredulously.
"Oh, d'ye kow more than they?" Mungo asked.
"I know more then Bundimun. Snape's the only one who's doing it correctly." Duncan answered.
Lockhart was now counting.
"One, two, three." Lockhart then smile in a friendly manner.
Almost immediately, Snape swirled his wand and said,
"Expelliarmus!" A bright beam of light flew from his wand, hit Lockhart, and flung him into the wall opposite.
"YES!" Duncan and Mungo cheered. The girls behind them threw the them dirty looks, but the two boys were enjoying themselves to notice.
Lockhart began raising himself up unsteadily, and dusted himself off.
"Ah, yes, that was a Disarming Spell. As you can see, I've lost my wand." A hand raised from the crowd, holding his wand.
"Ah, thank you Miss Granger. Yes, it was an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but, if you don't mind me saying so, it was pretty obvious what you were going to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy."
"Git…" Mungo muttered darkly. "The oonly things he can block are intelligent thoughts."
"Perhaps it would be prudent if we first teach them to block unfriendly spells, Professor." Snape said with a steely ring to his voice. Lockhart was clearly discomfited.
"Yes, excellent idea, Professor Snape. Let's have a volunteer pair. Potter, Weasley, how about you?"
Potter made his way eagerly to one side of the stage, but Snape interjected.
"Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending Potter to the Hospital Wing in a matchbox. Might I suggest someone from my own house? Malfoy, perhaps?" Snape said. Without waiting for Lockhart's consent, he made a curt gesture, and Malfoy climbed up onto the stage.
"I'm rooting for Potter." Mungo said determinedly.
They both walked to the center of the stage. Of course, Lockhart forgot about teaching anyone anything, and merely gave Potter a pat on the shoulder.
Potter and Malfoy saluted, and Malfoy said,
"Scared, Potter?"
"You wish." Pottter answered. Mungo groaned.
"Wasted a perfect opportunity to say something really stingin'." Mungo muttered.
By now they had gotten to their positions, and had their arms raised like Snape had.
Lockhart started speaking,
"Wands at the ready! When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm-only to disarm. We don't want any accidents."
"Says who?" Mungo whispered. Duncan chuckled.
"One, two-" Lockhart started counting, but Malfoy shouted before he was done,
"Tarantellegra!" A blast of white light hit Potter and sent him flying to the ground. Potter sportingly got up again and shouted
"Rictusempra!" The spell hit Malfoy in the gut, and send him flying end over end at Snape's feet. Snape showed no compassion, and sent Malfoy forward again.
Lockhart was really distressed by now.
"I said disarm only!"
Malfoy ignored him and flourished his wand again.
"Serpensortia!" He said. A flash of green light flared, and a thick, black cobra suddenly appeared. It started slithering towards Potter, hissing at the students clustered around the stage. Mungo and Duncan backed off, watching the snake nervously.
"I doon't think tha's in the schoolbooks…" Mungo said nervously.
Snape advanced.
"Don't move, Potter. I'll get rid of it for you." Snape said, raising his wand.
"Allow me!" Lockhart said, coming forward. He waved his wand at the snake, but it just flew high into the air, and landed with a plop back onto the stage, angrier than ever. It looked about, and saw a terrified second-year.
"He's a Hufflepuff!" Mungo said. McGonagall's words hit his mind.
"You house is like your family."
Mungo surged forward into the crowd, trying to reach the terrified Hufflepuff. But then Potter started doing something odd.
He started hissing and spitting, as if he was in a fit. The snake looked at him, and then coiled up, as docile as a rabbit.
Snape, with a shocked expression on his face, pointed his wand at the snake and said,
"Epara evanesca!"
The snake suddenly seemed to burn up, and disappeared in a thick cloud of black smoke. The Hufflepuff boy shouted something, and ran from the Hall. Everyone was stunned. Potter had spoken Parseltongue.
