A/N; thanks to my beta for his quick turnaround.

Not sure what's happening as I am now getting very few reviews on here. TWO last chapter.

Thank you to the guests who left a review.

So... not sure if you are bored with the story. Let's just say, as an author, when you're struggling with your health and undergoing tests when hardly anyone comments you begin to wonder if you should continue posting.

I get some people say write the story for yourself and blow the commentcount.

Good advice. I know the story and all the ins and outs so I do write for me. But I post for YOU. Only having two reviews makes me wonder if it is worth posting.

So if you do care, let me know,

Chapter 89

Hey, Dick!

"Oh," said Buffy, blinking in surprise at the size of the room.

The room Professor Merrythought had chosen for the duelling club was immense. Longer than it was wide, it had a row of tall windows down two sides and a multitude of cast iron chandeliers hanging from the arched ceiling.

"She's used an Extension Charm," Lovell whispered back. "I've been here before and it was just an ordinary classroom back then." They'd both stopped a few feet from the door, taking in the huge room before them.

Already around twenty students were gathered there, and the small, wiry professor bustled about the room, her wand a blur as the remaining tables and chairs were sent stacking against the wall and long mats unrolled. In one alcove, a group of students were in the middle of dragging out a duelling dummy, while others practised duelling poses and called out to friends excitedly.

"I'm not sure if this club is for me," said Lovell, eyeing Malfoy and Lestrange who'd drawn their wands and circled one another. "I prefer the ones were you sit quietly and read a book. I drop my wand when put under pressure."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Buffy replied, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. Her face brightened. "You never dropped your stake when you faced those blood-thirsty vampires. A kid with a wand is a lot less scary than a member of the fang-gang."

They both looked across the room to where Dolohov stood to one side. He fingered his wand with a cruel and eager expression on his face that didn't bode well for whoever duelled against him.

"Or maybe not," Buffy admitted. "Just don't get partnered with any psycho-killers." Her eyes still on Dolohov, she went on, "I'm kinda hoping that, if I get hit by a spell, I don't go into over-kill. My Slayer side might take offence. In an offensive kinda way."

Lovell looked more panicked than before. "Merlin! Don't say that, Buffy."

"Say what?" Roz asked as she waltzed through the door. She gestured to someone out in the corridor behind her. "Look who I've met." Caradoc appeared in the door frame, the wary smile on his handsome face relaxing as he spotted Buffy.

"I'm glad you're here, Buffy," he said, coming over to stand with the cousins.

Roz slyly added, "He wasn't going to come until I told him you'd be here and that you'd be pleased to have his company." She nudged Buffy, a conspiratorial grin on her face.

Buffy shifted – embarrassed. Yeah, she liked Caradoc and might have admitted it to her friend in the past. Who wouldn't like him? The blonde Adonis was super-easy on the eye, but she wished Roz hadn't said just that. She was always bumping into him, and he made a point of coming to sit at her table when she was in the library. If she was a normal teenage girl, having a droolworthy boy around her would have sent her giddy. Trouble was, she wasn't exactly normal. He'd almost caught her talking to Spikey, and it wasn't easy researching demonic activity when he was at her side asking what her favourite books were.

Caradoc's eyes moved from Buffy to Roz. "Thank you, Miss Moody. I think that you try to embarrass me, but what you say is true."

Buffy's heart skipped a beat, and Lovell shot first Caradoc, and then her, a wide-eyed look.

"Truth is," continued Caradoc unaware – or unconcerned – of the undercurrent of emotions around him, "I was unsure of my welcome. I am not a dueller. Rosalind confided that she, also, is a novice, so is Lovell and, of course, Buffy. I decided that if you all had the courage to come here, I would too."

"But... but you told us you went to Durmstrang," exclaimed Lovell, puzzled. "And you said both your parents are Inter-Aurors!"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, we thought you'd be all into the fighty," she said, balling up her fists and punching the air.

Caradoc shook his head. "Durmstrang students are competitive. That is why I never joined their Duelling Club. They take it very seriously. I do not. As for my parents..." He made a sour face and shrugged a shoulder. "I am not them. I have no wish to join the Aurors."

"Oh, Merlin. I understand that," replied Roz with a long-suffering sigh. "My family are all Aurors. They expected me to be some kind of ace at DADA and Potions. I don't like those subjects. I'm only here because my brother keeps nagging."

"What's that?" Caradoc frowned, looking about him with a puzzled expression. "I can hear... a shrieking? Where is it from? Is it a ghost?"

Buffy grabbed Lovell's arm, dragging him aside as the door behind them was roughly flung open, and a trolley was wheeled into the room. Looking neither to the left nor to the right, Tom Riddle manoeuvred the squeaking cart past their group and out into the centre of the room.

"Merlin! What a racket!" called Professor Merrythought.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked over. With a final flick of her wand, Merrythought left off the stacking tables and approached Tom. She stopped in front of him, hands on her hips and gave Dumbledore's trolley a disgusted look. "Why is that wheel making such a dreadful noise?"

"I can't say." Although Tom kept his head high, a light blush stained his cheeks at the attention. "Professor Dumbledore transfigured it from a sweet wrapper, Miss."

Merrythought bobbed her head. "Hmmm? Did he now? Then you are a smart boy for leaving it alone. A wise Wizard never meddles with another's Transfiguration, especially if said casting is Dumbledore's."

"No, Miss," agreed Tom. He patted the lid of the trunk. "I've brought the duelling dummy that Professor Slughorn promised you."

"Good boy. One is not gong to be enough. Where is Professor Slughorn? He promised to help since the class is so large and, although a miracle worker, I can't be everywhere at once."

Tom hesitated. "I'm not sure. We were both on our way here when Professor Dumbledore stopped us. I left him speaking to Professor Slughorn."

Professor Merrythought gave a quick nod, then spotting something in her peripheral vision, she swung around and pointed at Lancelot Lockhart. The short boy was charging the duelling dummy, his wand outstretched like a lance. "Stop that at once Lancelot! This ain't Camelot, ye know!"

Lockhart sheepishly stepped away from the dummy.

Merrythought turned back to Tom. "Tom, set up the dummy over there, in that far corner, please." She pointed, then hurried off to grab Lockhart who was now eyeing the ancient lances displayed on the wall with interest. "Dratted boy. Won't leave anything alone for a moment...I need eyes in the back of my head with you..."

Having set up the room to her liking and left her regulars pairing up, Professor Merrythought went over to address the newcomers.

"It's good to see fresh victims." She laughed when the small group exchanged worried looks. "Only joking boys and girls. I'm very pleased you're here and I'm looking forward to teaching you the basics of duelling. This is the only place in Hogwarts where you'll have the opportunity to use all those hexes and jinxes on one another without being hauled in front of the headmaster."

She began to pace along the line of students, her hands clasped behind her back. "Duelling is an ancient sport. It is not a free-for-all brawl. We are not Muggles. There are rules to follow and follow them you will. Firstly, you leave the kicking, pushing, and the punching to those who don't have magic. This is a non-physical contact sport – magic only."

Professor Merrythought suddenly left off her lecture to bellow, "Tom Riddle! Where do you think you're sloping off to?!"

Tom who'd just finished setting up the second duelling dummy and had been about to make a sharp exit whilst Merrythought was busy, looked over, his dark eyes wide. "I'm sorry, professor, I need to –."

Merrythought beckoned to him. "Nonsense! Join the group. You can make up the numbers."

He hesitated. "But... Miss..."

Merrythought raised a finger, stopping his excuses. "No ''ifs or 'buts'. You came here and now you'll leave when I tell you to."

He gazed at her for a moment – eyes glinting rebelliously – before going to stand at the opposite end of the line to Buffy. Merrythought nodded in approval, happy the group was now even in number.

"Now, who knows when the rules for duelling were laid down?" She looked at them expectantly.

Tom set his jaw, knowing the answer but refusing to say. Why should he? He had plans! Plans that didn't involve joining the Duelling Club or pretending he couldn't fight. Because of Merrythought he'd need to feign ignorance and lose to at least one of the other students.

"Was it over fourteen hundred years ago?" asked the Ravenclaw boy next to Tom. The boy pushed his dark-rimmed round spectacles up the bridge of his nose and looked at the professor hopefully. "I took a book out of the library."

Merrythought beamed. "Excellent, Mr Webster. How nice to find one student has bothered doing a little research before attending my class."

"Sarcastic, much?" Buffy muttered half-under her breath.

Roz heard her and snickered.

Merrythought was still talking. "...a traditional duelling outfit consists of breeches, a crisp white shirt, and fitted waistcoat. Up until the last century, the ladies wore long, divided skirts, but those days have gone – thankfully."

She pointed to the individual floor mats laid out around the room. "Do you see those mats?"

Everyone nodded.

Roz whispered to Buffy. "Be odd if we couldn't."

Since Merrythought was looking in her direction, Buffy smothered her giggle.

"...each pair will take a mat and use it as your designated duelling area. You can use the full length and width of the mat to dodge, reflect, or block incoming spells. If your feet leave the mat at any time during the bout, then you instantly lose." Merrythought turned at the end of the line and began pacing in the opposite direction.

"Can you jump up to avoid spells?" Buffy asked. She was fast and agile; if she couldn't think of a good counter-spell she'd leap over it.

"Certainly," replied the professor. "And if you use magic to augment your leap, you'll gain extra points in a competition."

"So... before starting a duel there are several rules. For instance, we first salute, then bow to your opponent – like so." Merrythought demonstrated the salute by bringing the wand up to her face and holding it vertically in line with her nose.

"Once done, turn and walk five paces away from your opponent. After five paces, turn and fire off your chosen spell. Any hex – nothing incurable and definitely not an Unforgivable. And always keep your senses trained on your opponent. Remember, vigilance is key here."

"Constant vigilance," Roz whispered.

Buffy grinned back. "Now we know where your brother gets it from."

Galatea looked over "Miss Summers! I see that, once more, you are talking more than I. Why is that?"

Buffy's eyes widened. Why did Merrythought always look her way when she whispered to someone? "Um, I'm sorry?"

"Since you have a lot to say," Merrythought went on. "What is the first rule of duelling?"

"Um." She looked at Roz, hoping she'd whisper the answer. Roz sent her a panicky look, not knowing the answer either.

Merrythought tapped her wand into the palm of her hand. "Come along. It really isn't that difficult a question... if you were listening. What's the first thing I said you should do? Rule number one?"

"Um, rule number one is..." Buffy's brain threw up a memory. "Oh yeah. Rule number one is don't die."

Tom – who'd been staring rigidly in front of him – looked sharply at Buffy.

Professor Merrythought chuckled. "A good answer, Miss Summers, but incorrect in this instance. Mr Lovegood, please tell me you were listening ?"

"Would it be to salute and bow to your opponent, Miss?" Lovell tentatively answered.

"Correct!" she strode forward, sizing the students up. "The first rule we observe is civility … whatever happens later. Miss Summers and Miss Moody, Lovegood and Dearborn, Riddle and Webster, each pair take a mat..."

Buffy and Roz walked to the first mat. Lovell and Caradoc the next, Tom and the younger Ravenclaw boy, Brennan Webster, to the one a little further on. All six students looked uncomfortable.

"Don't use anything too nasty on me," Brennan said, facing Tom in the centre of the mat. His glasses had dropped down his nose again. "I'm not that good with pain."

Tom wondered at the comment. Although there'd been a few unfortunate incidents in the past, in the main, he'd been careful to cover his tracks – or thought he had. Had word gotten out about his more nefarious deeds? He eyed the younger boy, trying to place the name Webster. It sounded Muggle. Deciding that the boy was just a Muggleborn and unsure of himself, Tom relaxed.

He gave Brennan one of his deceptively innocent smiles. "I've never been here before, so you'll have as much chance of hurting me as I have you." He'd already decided to throw a few half-hearted and weak spells around, look generally inept, win and then act surprised. He couldn't lose to a Muggleborn, could he?

Over on Caradoc's mat, Lovell was on all fours – he'd dropped his wand while trying to salute. Further on, Buffy and Roz wore matching grim expressions as they saluted one another with military precision. They then spoiled the effect by simultaneously bursting out into laughter.

"Summers and Moody!" yelled Merrythought from the opposite side of the room. "Stop laughing at once! There is nothing amusing about what you are about to do!"

She grabbed Lancelot Lockhart by the ear as he tried removing a mace from the wall.

"Aww! Aww! Miss, that hurts!"

Merrythought gave him a little shake before casting him aside and striding back over to the novices. "Miss Summers, if this was a real duel and Miss Moody was your opponent, would you laugh at her?"

"Depends on what she was wearing," Buffy laughingly replied.

Roz pulled a face – and Buffy laughed again.

"Laughter is not a weapon," snapped Merrythought.

"Hey, but it is!" argued Buffy. "I've completely demoralised enemies without ever lifting a finger."

Tom, realising he was blatantly staring, pulled his gaze from her. 'Demoralise without lifting a finger'? She'd certainly demoralised Dorothea Parkinson, seemingly without lifting a finger. Dorothea's parents would be furious that she'd been suspended. How had Buffy managed to move the book from her trunk to Dorothea's? She must have used a Transference Charm...but one that could bypass wards? He'd like to know what kind of spell she'd used...

Tom's inner dialogue faded when he spotted Dearborn's expression. He was watching Buffy with an odd mixture of intense curiosity and cunning on his face. The expression changed to one more admiring and flirtatious when Buffy looked over at him.

A soft hiss of disapproval and dislike left Tom's throat. Dearborn was a fraud! Why couldn't Buffy see that? Why was she being swayed by Dearborn's handsome face, broad shoulders, and softly spoken manner? Tom regarded Dearborn coldly. He'd never liked him. The Durmstrang boy was too handsome, too well-mannered, and too willing to please others. He was too much! He had to be a fake!

Tom took in the way Dearborn stood on the mat, his erect back, and the way he casually held his wand as he waited for Lovell to stop fumbling with his wand and stand up. He'd stake his reputation on Dearborn being no more a duelling novice than he was. Caradoc Dearborn was up to something. There was a good reason for his transference from Durmstrang and him pretending to be a novice. What was it?

Tom glanced over to the first mat and saw that Buffy was counting her steps before starting her bout. He looked back at Dearborn to see he was still blatantly watching her and ignoring the fidgeting Lovell. Was this all to do with Buffy? What was so special about her? What did the Durmstrang boy know that he didn't?

He let out a huff of exasperation. No. He was allowing his imagination and fixation on the American Witch to cloud his judgement. If Dearborn had transferred for a reason, it was highly unlikely to be because of the daughter of a Squib.

"Ahem."

Brennan Webster raised an eyebrow, his wand held vertically in front of his face and the light from the chandelier reflecting off the lenses of his glasses. "Are you ready?" he asked, looking annoyed. "I've been saluting you for ages!"

Tom gritted his teeth. "Sorry."

"Good," replied Webster. "I've not got all day. Let's go."

Tom's jaw almost dropped. The little... upstart! Telling him – HIM! – what to do! Anger seethed inside him. He saluted and bowed, turned smartly and paced away. Webster said he didn't like pain? He would give him pain, pain of the like he'd never experienced before in his life. The kind of pain that would make him collapse in agony, the type of pain that drove grown men to insanity. Except he couldn't...not here, not now... not in front of Merrythought or Buffy.

"RICTUSEMPRA!" yelled Tom the instant he turned.

Brennan sidestepped the laughter spell and cast an Immobulus in return. Tom flicked up a lazy Shielding Charm and the jinx bounced off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roz Moody sidestep a spell and step from the mat. On the mat next to him, Lovell had already been disarmed. If Caradoc had won, he'd duel Buffy. He needed to –.

A stinging sensation in the forehead told him he'd been hit. Invisible ropes curled around his body and held him tightly as the Body Bind jinx took effect. Tom lost his balance and toppled backwards – bouncing stiffly as he hit the mat.

"Well done, Brennan! Nicely cast! Tom, you let yourself be distracted and lost because of it," Professor Merrythought called. "Remember, vigilance is key! Caradoc, partner Buffy. Lovell and Tom together, Roz and Brennan make up the third pair."

The bindings on Tom dissolved and he got up, joining a red-faced Lovell on his mat.

Professor Merrythought darted past, stepping in Roz's path. "You two gels! Don't think I didn't see what you were doing – shouting out each spell before you cast it! You shouldn't warn your opponent of what you are about to do!"

"But Miss!" whined Roz. "Even when Buffy says the name of the spell I still have to remember which one it is."

"We're beginners!" Buffy whined. "I can do this." She threw her wand upwards, caught it in her hand and spun it around at high speed. "But the magical stuff is much harder."

"KEEP YOUR WAND IN YOUR HAND AT ALL TIMES!" bellowed Merrythought, unimpressed by Buffy's dexterity.

As soon as Merrythought's attention turned to someone else, Dearborn said to Buffy, "I love the way you handle a wand. I think we will duel well together."

Tom saw red. Was it not bad enough that he'd been beaten by a Muggleborn? Now he was being forced to watch a Gryffindor flirt with Buffy. And why wasn't she telling him to leave her alone? A Slytherin girl shouldn't wish to associate with a Gryffindor boy. Buffy though... Buffy was smiling up at the golden-haired boy and it was sending snakes of jealousy writhing inside Tom.

"Thanks, Doc."

Doc? She had a pet name for Caradoc? They were still smiling at each other when Tom forced his eyes away to salute and bow to Lovell. Why was he duelling the terrified and hopeless Ravenclaw? He wanted to fight Caradoc. He wanted to tear the golden boy apart. Tom shot another look over at Merrythought – busy on the opposite side of the room.

"Keep your wand in the air, Mr Malfoy! NO! NOT LIKE THAT! You ain't hailing the Knight Bus! That's better!" Merrythought moved further away from him.

"LOCKHART! Try casting a... Ooops, too late!" The professor hurried over to where Lockhart lay, all the bones vanished in both his legs. "I'll have that right as rain, but you'd best sit out for the rest of the evening."

"Expelliarmus!"

Lovell's Disarming charm almost hit Tom. He had to concentrate. He retaliated by sending a strong Knockback Jinx that sent Lovell flying from the mat and hitting the wall behind him. Not even bothering to watch Lovell slide down the wall, Tom turned to face Buffy and Caradoc once more. Orange light left Buffy's wand and Caradoc ducked, at the same time casting a Jelly Legs. The Durmstrang boy was lightning fast.

"Beginner my arse," Tom said, a little too loudly.

Buffy frowned. Instead of blocking the incoming spell, she dropped and rolled forward, the movement bringing her up close to Caradoc.

Unperturbed, the Durmstrang boy stepped back. "Petrificus Totalis!"

Buffy arched to the side and the spell shot past, crashing into the room's stonework.

"Fumos!" Thick, heavy black smoke billowed from the end of Buffy's wand, overpowered by her erratic magic and drifting across the two mats as she struggled, and failed, to control it.

Tom bit his bottom lip. The smoke was his chance to cause mayhem for Dearborn. Merrythought was out of sight, presumably busy with the more advanced duellers on the other side of the room. Lovell was nowhere to be seen and Dearborn was invisible in the thick smoke...

Sure enough, the smoke glowed red from Dearborn's end of the mat. Buffy yelped, staggering backwards as the spell – a Stupefy – hit her in the chest. That must have hurt her. A shimmer of red appeared in Tom's eyes as he pointed his wand at Dearborn and murmured an incantation he'd used many times before.

An instant later, two large King Cobras landed on the cold, hard floor of the Scottish castle. Disorientated and angry at being summoned from their Indian forest, one of the snakes rose up, his head turning from one direction to the other – peering at the duellers through the smoke.

"Bite him!" Tom commanded in Parseltongue.

The cobra whipped around, facing the larger figure in the smoke. It raised its hood, hissing angrily at Dearborn.

Caradoc yelped, backing away fast, feet stumbling in his haste.

"Both of you, strike!" Tom commanded, and this time the female cobra slithered forward.

"No you don't!" cried a girl's voice.

The female snake was jerked backwards. Buffy, with both hands around the snake's body, had begun to reel it slowly towards her. Enraged, the cobra whipped its head around, ready to strike.

"No!" Tom hissed.

The snake stilled. Buffy – unaware the snake was no longer a threat – jerked the snake's body hard, cracking it in the air like a whip. Then she slammed it down onto the stone floor where it lay unmoving. The cobra about to attack Caradoc turned its attention onto Buffy – fury reflected in its small eyes.

"Leave her," Tom hissed desperately. "Come to me! Leave her." But the snake was deaf in its grief and anger.

"Step aside! Let me deal with this," exclaimed a new voice and the short upright figure of Lancelot Lockhart swaggered past Tom.

"No!" Tom bellowed. Buffy was in danger. Lockhart was an idiot, he...

"Engorgio!" Lockhart waved his wand at the King Cobra.

The spell struck and the snake, now larger than all other snakes with the exception of the basilisk, glared down at the small figure of Buffy below it.

Lockhart yelped, "Every man for himself!" He turned and slammed into Tom, knocking him to the ground and sending his wand flying into a thick patch of smoke.

Lovell darted past Tom, his wand extended. "Buffy, run! CONFRINGO!" The explosive spell shot from his wand, missing the snake and hitting the floor. Ancient stonework exploded, fragments and dust showering across the room.

"What in Merlin's name is going on over there!" yelled Merrythought, vanishing the smoke as she ran towards the group.

"Lovell, get away from here," Buffy ordered. "I'll deal. I've done this before." Wand held in front of her, she stepped under the snake's head without the slightest trace of fear and waved at its face. "Hey, Dick! Come get me!"

"No!" Tom's wand came to his shaking hand a moment too late. The huge serpent struck. Buffy disappeared from view, and excess venom sprayed outwards as the cobra's mouth hit the ground where she'd stood.