Chapter Thirty-One

\\/

Hermione and Severus told nobody of the dangerous agreement they had made. With the rift ended, and their friends bewildered but relieved, Slytherin house breathed easy again. Problems loomed ahead of them both, ominous and inescapable as storm clouds, but Hermione chose, with certain obstinance that almost spoke of avoidance, to turn her focus instead to the swiftly approaching duelling tournament.

It took a few days for Severus to understand that he was not to treat Hermione any differently to before her pregnancy. The both of them, alongside Rabastan, threw themselves into preparation, training with an unparalleled intensity morning and night. They often crossed paths with the international students who could be found outside in the early morning, jogging around the black lake or exchanging spellfire with their teammates. Hermione had even grown accustomed to having so many strangers in the Great Hall during meals.

On the first day of duelling, Hermione awoke to the touch of a hand on her shoulder. She rubbed her eyes and found Arabel and Alecto standing by her bed.

"You probably should get up now," Alecto said. "It's half seven."

Hermione yawned and nodded, a new and unfamiliar sluggishness weighing down her limbs. A cold shower and an anti-nausea potion (she had been brewing these by the cauldronful) improved matters, and when Hermione returned to the dormitory Arabel was waiting for her.

"Let me fix your hair," Arabel said, holding up a comb. Hermione raised an eyebrow in surprise but acquiesced, and sat on the bed. Arabel stood behind her and began to tug at her hair.

"Ow," Hermione complained.

"At least nobody can yank on it when I'm done," Arabel reproved. Alecto entered, carrying a brown wrapped parcel.

"Professor Slughorn said to give you these."

Hermione flicked her hand at the parcel and the paper vanished. Alecto held up a pair of long black duelling robes, sleek and elegant. A silver snake crest on the breast proclaimed her house, and on the back of the robes, the school crest was embroidered in golden thread, with HOGWARTS emblazoned beneath.

"Very nice," Arabel murmured appreciatively, and Hermione agreed. Hogwarts wanted to make an impressive showing.

"Have you finished?" Alecto asked anxiously. "Hermione needs breakfast."

"Yes, just here. Done." Arabel applied a final sticking charm to Hermione's hair and then passed her a mirror. Hermione dutifully admired the reflection. Arabel had plaited her hair in several tight french braids, finishing in a knot at the base of her kneck. Somehow she had combined elegance and practicality.

Regulus, Severus, and Rabastan were waiting in the common room downstairs. The latter two wore an identical set of the duelling robes.

"You look fierce," Severus said to Hermione, pressing his hand to hers briefly. His eyes flicked downwards to her midsection and Hermione sighed privately.

"So do you," she said. Severus had foregone a braid, but his hair was tied back tightly in a traditional men's duelling bun.

Hermione ate a small breakfast of eggs for long-lasting energy and drank a glass of orange juice. She took another anti-nausea potion to be certain that nothing would impede her abilities and then excused herself to the bathroom where she cast several additional protection charms on her midriff. Then she and her friends joined the steady stream of students making their way down to the arena.

They walked down and down the stairs, lit by torches bracketed into the walls, further down into the depths of Hogwarts than Hermione had ever been before. The students around them jostled and chattered with excitement and people kept patting Hermione on the shoulder and wishing her good luck. Severus scowled murderously whenever he received this treatment.

After walking downstairs for almost ten minutes, they suddenly turned a corner and found a doorway ahead of them, and through the doorway was a brightly lit arena.

The duelling arena was a massive oval-shaped cavern, so deep down inside Hogwarts that Hermione wondered that they hadn't dug up the chamber of secrets. They pushed their way through the throngs of students fighting to get through the door. Before them lay a room like a Roman Coliseum; seating rising high around the sides and a wide sand-covered floor for duelling.

"This way Mr Lestrange, and you too Mr Snape and Miss Black," Professor Flitwick squeaked, waving enthusiastically. He was perched on a stool at the foot of the stands, and Hermione thought he made an unlikely choice of usher. He gestured the three competitors toward a doorway to the side.

Arabel bounced on the soles of her feet. "Good luck!" she exclaimed, as Alecto and Regulus chimed in. Then the three of them peeled away and were lost in the crowd, and Severus, Hermione and Rabastan entered the small room.

The room was a small windowless antechamber with several seats around. The other Hogwarts competitors had already arrived. James and Sirius looked more serious than usual, but Amos was his usual affable self.

"Hello hello," he exclaimed as they arrived. "I say, doesn't it look exciting out there?"

Before anyone could reply the door to the antechamber opened, and Dumbledore, Flitwick and Bellatrix Lestrange entered. Hermione would never grow accustomed to that combination.

"Good morning competitors," Dumbledore called. "I hope your wands are shiny and polished and your reflexes are sharp. As the inaugural team of Hogwarts, I have no doubt you are proud and will set an excellent standard for the school to follow."

"Watch out when you're in the ring," Professor Flitwick squeaked. "I know you all know how to duel, but some other schools have been known to fight dirty."

"We don't want to be scraping anyone off the floor," Bellatrix said, with a giggle. Nobody laughed.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Ahem. The sheet for today is here, and you all have your competition. I'll leave you copies to have a look at, and then in five minutes you'll take your seats by the ring."

Dumbledore passed pieces of parchment to the students, and then he and the other teachers left the room. Immediately everybody scanned their parchment until they found their name.

"Shit, I've got one of the French girls," Rabastan said with disgust. "Not even a proper fight."

"I'll swap if you want," Sirius said grumpily. "I've got one of the pretty-face Americans."

"Japan," James said.

"Australia," Amos said. Everyone winced. The Australian students looked intimidating.

"Who've you got?" Hermione asked Severus. He looked down at his sheet.

"Maria Gattaz from Brazil," he read. "What about you?"

Hermione scanned her sheet until she found her name, and sighed. She wondered who had engineered this and for what purpose because she accepted coincidence in no way.

"Grindelwald."

\\/

As the six Hogwarts students entered the arena, Hermione looked in awe at the stadium, the entire school sitting above them. The Slytherins stood out as a mass of green and silver and they erupted into cheers as Hermione, Severus and Rabastan walked by. Up in the stands, Alecto and Regulus were waving a large silver banner with a coiling serpent on it.

Below the crowds were seats for the duellists and waiting for them an official representative whose purple robes bore the national duelling association insignia.

"Right this way please," he said officiously and gestured them to six seats to the side of the ring. Across the arena, the other schools were all sitting in similar seats. Hermione looked about, but Durmstrang students hadn't come out yet, so instead, she searched the competitors for her friends. Her heart sank when she saw the girl Severus would be fighting. She was tall and strong-jawed and was staring intently in their direction.

"Okay guys, listen up," said Hermione. She had meant Rabastan and Severus, but to her surprise, James, Sirius and Amos turned too. Hermione continued regardless.

"We know how to duel, we know the rules, but we've never come up against totally unknown opponents before. You want to start watching them now. Don't take your eyes off them until the signal to start. Do they limp? Are they left-handed? Are they trying to stare you down, or are they avoiding looking at you so they don't give anything away?"

Hermione glanced over the Durmstrang side and saw that the students had arrived. She found Grindelwald, and from across the arena, their eyes met. Then he turned away.

"What their body language is now can tell you a bit about how they're going to start the fight. Severus, your girl -" and she gestured to the Brazilian who had fixed unblinking eyes on Severus - "She's trying to intimidate you, That means she'll probably be an aggressor. She won't pansy around with defensive spells and try to get a feel for you, she'll probably go in for the take out right away, hoping she's knocked you off-balance with all the staring."

"What about mine?" Rabastan asked. Hermione took his sheet and read the name, then looked over at the French delegation. One of the girls was looking in their direction. As Rabastan met her gaze she giggled and dropped her eyes.

Hermione snorted. "Pretty girl act She's going to toss her hair and make you think about how lovely she is, and then the second you drop your guard she'll be all in your face with the nasty hexes. And the minute you get her at the end of your wand she'll go for the same act again. Don't fall for it. And don't fall for any crying."

Rabastan blew a breath and Hermione grinned. "Don't fall for it Rabastan. I know you love the pretty girls but let's try to have a Hogwarts victory yeah?"

"What about my competition?" Sirius demanded. Rabastan and Severus turned to stare at him.

"What? I thought Black was giving us the rundown."

"She's giving us the rundown Black," Severus drawled. "On account of us being her friends."

Sirius's face darkened and Hermione put a hand on Severus's arm. "It's fine, she said. "Okay, Black, who's your competition?"

"You are a bloody duelling encyclopedia," James said ten minutes later, with something akin to admiration, as Hermione finished analysing his opponent.

"I'm glad I'm not going up against you in the ring," Amos agreed.

Hermione had barely finished talking her duelling companions through fight strategy when bright lights lit the duelling floor, and a small man in the referee's uniform walked into the middle.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen, witches and wizards, and welcome to the 122nd annual international wizarding schools tournament, here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

Camera's flashed on all sides. The tournament was going to all the wizarding news channels.

"Now without further ado please welcome your first student duellist. From Hogwarts itself, seventh year Severus Snape! And from Brazil's Castelobruxo...Maria Gattaz!"

Hermione squeezed Severus's hand. He stood, straightening his robes, and walked into the ring. Silence hung, then Hogwarts burst into applause. It wasn't as enthusiastic as it might have been for James Potter, but Hogwarts was still going to clap for its own.

Severus seemed to take heart from the applause, lifting his chin. His opponent entered the pit to whistles and cheers from her team and met Severus and the referee in the centre.

Severus nodded to Gattaz. She stared coolly back. They bowed and then straightened.

"Begin," said the referee crisply.

Instantly Gattaz sent a bludgeoning curse at Severus's midriff, followed by a cutting curse to his ankles. In the same twist of her wand, she conjured small silver arrows and sent them hurtling towards him.

Hermione held her breath. The girl was trying to overwhelm Severus, to force him on the defensive with a wild array of spells, hoping to lure her opponent into panicked defence. Would Severus fall for it?

Severus seemed to know what the girl was doing. He leaned sideways so the bludgeoning curse missed him by inches and jumped with both feet over the cutter. Straight into the arrow's path, Hermione calculated, but if he could get his wand arm - in motion from the leap - around in time, he would be able to send them back at Gattaz with a surprise attached.

Severus did just that. His arm came around and, with a flick, turned the arrows around in mid-flight and sent them hurtling back towards their caster. For an added measure, he set them alight.

Gattaz had a second to return fire before she would have to defend against the arrows. She cast a spell at the ground beneath Severus, making it uneven and pitted so that when he landed from his jump the floor was rough and he stumbled.

Gattaz cancelled the spell that had conjured the arrows and then turned her wand on Severus, but it was too late. Severus stumbled on the uneven ground, but as he fell he flicked his wand and before the girl could even think to defend against it she was hanging upside down in midair, suspended by her ankle.

"Yes!" Rabastan shouted. "Finish it!"

Severus didn't need encouragement. He rolled and was up in an instant, duelling stance perfect, disarming Gattaz with a simple summoning charm.

The stadium erupted into cheers. The Slytherins whistled and stamped their feet, and Hermione beamed at Severus. The whole fight had lasted eleven seconds.

The referee was in the ring immediately, holding Severus's arm up.

"Our winner - Severus Snape from Hogwarts!"

Severus turned and bowed to his opponent. Gattaz was brushing herself off. She scowled at Severus and left the ring without a second glance.

"That was brilliant," Hermione beamed as Severus rejoined them. He was breathing hard from the adrenaline but smiled widely at her.

James cleared his throat awkwardly. "Nice work Snape."

Nobody spoke, and then Severus shuffled.

"Thanks, Potter."

Hermione said not a word but her heart was soaring as she turned back to the ring.

\\/

Over the next hour, Rabastan easily won his match against the Beauxbatons girl, and Sirius's overconfidence nearly lost him his match against a quick American. Hermione watched intently as the international students duelled each other. There were skills and spells on display that she had never seen before, and some of it was breathtaking.

"We could learn so much from this," Severus said to Hermione.

"Yes," she said and checked the list. "I'm up next."

As if on cue the crowd cheered loudly. In the arena, a witch in golden robes was flung backwards, her wand spiralling away into the air to be deftly caught by her opponent.

"That was Jordan Roth from Ilvermorny, winning his match against Hiromi Nishida from Mahoutokoro." The referee said, his magnified voice bouncing off the stands. "Next up - Hermione Black from Hogwarts vs Ivan Grindelwald from Durmstrang".

Heart beating like the thud of a drum, hands trembling, the roar of the crowd in her ears, Hermione entered the ring.

"Go Hermione!" came shouts from the stands. "You can do it!"

Ivan was neither tall nor short but somewhere in the middle, with hard angled features and ice grey eyes that had no warmth at all. His close-cropped hair gave little away but it was impossible not to see the smallest hints of family resemblance. Pleasing features, and a certain lithe quality to the way he moved, all reminded Hermione of the photographs she had seen of a young Grindelwald.

Grindelwald had been almost undefeatable but Ivan was only a boy. He gave a short bow. Unease trickled down Hermione's spine and she swallowed as she bowed in return. His flat eyes were wrong, somehow. Then he blinked and summoned an easy half-smile and Hermione wondered if she had imagined it.

"Prepare" called the referee. And then, "fight!"

Ivan was a blur of motion almost before the shout, sprinting towards Hermione and his hands were flicking downwards in motion both familiar and terrible. The knives spun into being in his palms, summoned by a spell that he had neither voiced nor used a wand for, and Ivan launched them. The flashing blades came within a hairsbreadth of Hermione's chest before she raised a shield, a shimmering wall of gold that absorbed the knives and turned them to molten silver.

Ivan didn't slow his charge but jumped upwards at Hermione his feet extended in a motion she recognised from muggle martial arts films. Hermione flicked her wand sharply and her golden shield solidified and became steel in an instant. Ivan couldn't check his jump and crashed into it, Hermione barely rolling to the side to avoid the falling metal.

The seconds she had bought herself were over, and Ivan was on his feet and firing curse after curse at Hermione, so swiftly that she could barely keep up with shielding and returning fire. A cutting curse caught her in the shoulder and dimly Hermione was aware of the screams and gasps of the crowd. The pain sharpened her, crystalised her focus onto the young man in front of her. He was unbelievably fast with his wand.

Although initially caught off guard by the fury of the attack, Hermione was keeping up now. She hadn't faced an opponent like this since the war back in her own time. They seemed equally matched in speed and skill, and neither of them was able to grasp control of the duel and set the pace. They beat furiously upon one another's shield cursing and defending in return until gradually they widened the gap between them, slowing down. It wasn't possible to continue at such a pace indefinitely. Hermione could feel sweat trickling down her back and Ivan was gritting his teeth.

They traded almost friendly fire as they paced around each other, red jets of stunning spells and other more nasty hexes melting against shields or bouncing off. It was hard to grasp the measure of Ivan in what had, so far, been an entirely wordless fight. Hermione wondered how experienced he was. Using an old duelling trick she abruptly swapped her wand to her left hand and layered several bludgeoning curses, which she wove into the harmless red light of an expelliarmous. The change unnerved Ivan for an instant and he raised a weaker shield, seeing nothing but a disarming spell coming towards him. The bludgeoning spells smashed through the shield and knocked him backwards off his feet, sending him skidding across the floor of the arena.

Hermione raced forward to press her advantage but Ivan was already back up, his face bloodied, and there came a rumble from all around them. The sand was rising upwards and forming into foreboding shapes all around, chimaeras and snakes and dragons. Loose grains of sand rained down upon Hermione's head and she was forced to cast a spell to protect her eyes even as she coughed and spat out the grit. Ivan had vanished among the shifting pillars and Hermione had to blast her way through a dragon that came roaring towards her, the sand that formed him swirling like a hurricane.

The magic involved in such large-scale animation was phenomenal. How was Ivan doing this?

The sand dragons' roar cut short as Hermione blasted a hole through his chest. Through the gaping hole she glimpsed Ivan, his wand out and his face fixed in concentration as he spun flaming threads into the air and knotted them together with his wand. Hermione stared.

He couldn't be. He wouldn't...

The sand shifted and her sight was obscured again, but Hermione had seen what Ivan was making. A laceration net. They were dark magic, formed from fire and diamond wire. Once activated, a laceration net would slice apart anything in its path with dreadful ease. Hermione clenched her fist around her wand as she realised that she was facing an enemy who was trying to kill her. The sand monsters were nothing but a distraction to allow Ivan time to build the net, which he surely intended to use to slice through her shields and cut her apart.

No time to wonder who, or why, only to try and survive. Already a sand chimaera was leaping towards her, and Ivan was nowhere in sight. Hermione blasted and shielded mindlessly. A laceration net was made of diamond and fire, and nothing would weaken it except…

Water.

Then Ivan was there, teeth bared in a grimace, his feet planted firmly in the sand. His wand was slashing through the air and sending the flaming, glittering net towards Hermione. It seemed to float in the air, a killing machine of deadly grace.

Hermione spun, her wand spinning with her, and summoned up a spell that she had seen performed only once before, in a moment of desperate need when Hogwarts had been burning and nothing could quench the blaze. The spell was wordless, but intent must be perfect and Hermione let her mind reach out beyond her body and into the sand creatures raging around her. And then every grain of sand in the arena transformed into water, cascading over the ring in a deluge and crashing into the ground. The laceration net received the brunt of water as above it, a snapping sand dragon became a tsunami. The red flicker died, the net falling to the ground under the weight of the water.

Screams came from the audience. Hermione propelled herself into the air with a levitation charm and saw that Ivan had done the same. The floor of the arena had become a churning ocean, and the onlookers nearest to the ground were scrambling up the steps, racing to find higher ground. Hermione was rising out of control - it was not easy to levitate - and she needed to get back to the ground. She opened her mouth to vanish the water, and then Ivan shouted a spell, and with a flash, the floor was a frozen wasteland of ice.

Ivan dropped to the ground, but Hermione smiled. Ivan didn't realise that he had just made his first mistake. She plummeted to the ground after him, transfiguring her shoes as she fell. When she landed narrow blades were mounted beneath her feet and as Ivan launched his first curse she was already gone.

Hermione had skated every winter since she was a toddler and the intervening years had not dulled her confidence. The ice was rippled from the waves, but she dashed at great speed towards Ivan, firing curses as she went. He shielded, but barely. Hermione was moving so fast that he couldn't keep up with the target she was presenting, and his spells melted uselessly into the ice.

Without the need to shield for at least as long as it took Ivan to adjust to the new speed Hermione could redouble her offensive efforts, until finally, as she was forced to execute a spin to avoid a stray bone-shattering spell, Ivan dropped his shield an instant too long. Hermione cast a melting charm on the ice beneath his feet, and Ivan found himself falling into a sinkhole of water where there had previously been solid ice.

Hermione summoned his wand and re-froze the ice.

Ivan roared with fury as the summoning spell tore his wand from his hand, and then he was encased in solid ice up to his neck. His eyes bulged and he spat curses at her in Bulgarian, but his wand was sailing through the air towards Hermione and she caught it with the ease of long practice.

It was as though Hermione had been deaf to the noise of the crowd and she could suddenly hear. The crowd erupted with cheers and screams, many of which had a hysterical edge. Hermione shook, even as the referee entered the rink and raised her arm, declared her the winner. She clenched her teeth as Ivan was freed from the ice, and they were all sent from the rink and the next match delayed so that the ice could be melted and the sand restored.

"Hermione," Severus said hoarsely, as she sat down. "My god. That was…"

"What the fuck," Rabastan said. "Is he going to be arrested?"

In silence, Severus took Hermione's arm and sliced off her sleeve to reach the cut in her shoulder. It was deep, but nothing they hadn't healed before. As he wove Hermione's flesh back together, his worry was like a thrumming undercurrent, and with others present, she couldn't reassure him that she felt nothing amiss.

Afterwards, Hermione sat between Severus and Rabastan, both of whom were still white with fright. They listened as the referee expelled Ivan from the tournament for use of a laceration net, a piece of dark magic which had been forbidden in formal duelling for two centuries. Ivan ignored the referee, his cool gaze fixed on Hermione alone.

Hermione wondered why he had tried to kill her, and whether he would try again. Once again, Severus seemed to read her mind.

"How many people at Hogwarts want you dead this year?" he said under his breath. Hermione clenched her jaw and thought of the secret they were keeping, the tiny life growing within her.

"Too fucking many."

\\/

Thanks for reading. This chapter is rather large and took quite a long time, and could probably do with a bit more editing but I am tired of it and want to move on. Point for those who can guess Ivan's endgame.

I hope everyone is enjoying the summer (or winter for those of you down under!)

Cas