The Arena of Slytherin was a place built entirely for settling disputes away from the public. It was the way Salazar kept Slytherin unified and it in addition to the Slytherin Court has been constants for a thousand years. It was the place where Tom Riddle had risen from the being the ant to the boot.

It was where all Half-Blood's started. Slytherin is ruthless, it is cold and dangerous. Yet most of all Slytherin is the place for ambition and growth. It's where ¾ th of the Ministry and all important people come from. Of all that Voldemort has said and done his quote still holds true. 'There is no good and evil. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it.'

A quote that encapsulates what it means to be a Slytherin.

Students started trickling in getting into the surrounding spectator booths. As more and more people arrived the anticipation rose. The older students had seen the gradual rise of Charles Ambrose and the decline of Malfoy. This was the time where it would be decided if Malfoy would fall or simply stay, he had everything to lose, and Charles had everything to gain.

"You came at last." As Malfoy and Nott entered the arena. Instead of preparing themselves for the duel, Nott walked forward and bowed slightly. "As Heir Nott I apologize for my badly spoken words and humbly begs for your forgiveness."

"Accepted, now begone." Charles allowed and turned fully to Draco Malfoy. He didn't know what to think of the boy, definitely not a friend, not really an acquaintance either. An academic rival perhaps. Although a rivalry suggests similar levels of knowledge and power. He did not know what to think of the man who insulted his family.

He had baited him yes, but only to challenge and perhaps change his mind on the Pureblood ideals. The moment he brought up his family he was done. He needed to make a statement.

Snape walked into the judge stand, a floating platform in the middle of the sand filled arena. "The Arena of Slytherin has been opened for an honour duel between Draco Malfoy, heir of the Ancient and Noble House Malfoy and Charles Ambrose, Heir of the Minor House Ambrose."

He paused to look at both. "The rules are simple, all but the unforgivable Curses are allowed and no fatalities. Begin."

"Ferro Acribus!" Malfoy shouted, a dark cutting spell that would lead to severe swelling and bleeding. Halfway between Diffindo and Sectumsepra. Charles saw the dark spell incoming and answered in kind. "Ferventibus Oculis." An equally dark curse that would boil the opponents eyes.

Malfoy leapt away at the last moment. Charles however threw up a silent protego stopping the curse in its path. Becoming bored he drew in his magic and released a volley of spells.

"Firmus. Obscurus. Furnunculus. Ferventibus Oculis. Incarcarous." 5 spells in 3 seconds hit Malfoy. His legs started to wobble, and he lost his balance falling face first cracking his nose. His sight disappeared and boils started appearing across his body. His eyes bubbled out and boiled away leaving a magical and physical blind Malfoy tied up by tight ropes and covered in extremely painful boils.

"That should be a lesson Malfoy, I do not accept people badmouthing my family." It had served as another statement as well, most of his spells had been dark, extremely dark in the case of the Eye Boiler. He had practically shouted to them all that he was not afraid to use the Dark Arts and had studied them extensively.

Severus sighed rubbing his eyes. Nott had done the intelligent thing and apologized. His standing may have lowered but it was still there. His godson on the hand had been utterly humiliated losing any respect he had garnered. His constant belittling about other people's skill and his assurance in himself proved to be his downfall.

The other Slytherins all saw this, he dug his own grave. Now Severus had to tell his father the horrid news. He sighed and flooed to Malfoy Manor.

"Ah Severus, what brings you here?" The slippery voice of Lucious came from ahead. Severus abandoned all tact and put it bluntly. "Your son as humiliated himself in the Slytherin Arena and any reputation he might have is lost."

For a moment Lucious said nothing then he shouted. "WHAT! How!?"

"Charles Ambrose. Draco insulted his family and practically spat on their graves. Ambrose challenged him and Nott to an honour duel. Nott apologized and left yet your son stayed and lost badly."

"How badly?"

"He'll be confined to the hospital wing for a week and blond for one more."

"Charles used Dark curses!?"

"Your son started with one."

"That damned foolish boy!"

Charles had been having a wonderful Christmas break. He had been able to restock everything and publish another book on Potion Advances, still most from his great-grandfather yet some of them were his.

His study in soul magic had only advanced and he started experimenting with ideas of astral projection, or rather the soul being separate of his body. It was slow going but it did have promise. In the meantime, he was preparing for the Christmas dinner at Slug Hall. He had already opened his gifts from his friends.

A book on advance potions and herbology from Neville, a wand caring kit from Hannah, some standard gifts such as chocolate and exploding snap from his acquaintances. From Susan he got something he had been looking for all year. A comprehensive book detailing all the laws and regulations of the wizengamot.

She only got it from her aunt who was the chief of the DMLE. A good friendship if he had ever seen one. To be fair he did give her something important in return. A ticket to the international Duelling tournament the coming summer and a Duelling Handbook by his grandmother Annabeth Ambrose.

He exited the fireplace at Slug Hall dressed in an exquisite muggle tuxedo. The clothing caught the attention of the others as they wore the usual wizarding fashion. "Ah, our guest of honour. Mr. Ambrose. Please take a seat." Horace said jovially and pointed to one the seat to his right.

As they sat down, he started to introduce various people of differing status. They shared on commonality however, they were all famous or prosperous in some way. "This is Grace Steward, an international Duelling star."

"Pleasure." She curtseyed before taking a closer look. "You're the grandson of Annabeth Ambrose aren't you?" She mumbled looking him over. "Got the build for duelling too." "How quick are your-" She cut herself off with a quickly cast tickling jinx.

On instinct Charles flicked his wand and made a protego minor wordlessly. The miniature shield blocked the jinx easily enough and Grace smiled. "If you need help entering a tournament, I'm your girl." With that she excused herself and left to mingle. He turned to Horace who was simply observing the gathering.

"You know, my classmates compared me to you."

"Did they now?"

"Not always flattering but yes."

"How so?"

"By the people we make acquaintances with. Either influential or intelligent. People who can help us in the future. Although most of that came about naturally for me."

"Still, you have an eye for greatness. Dare I say it, you have greatness yourself."

"He, the same as what Ollivander said." Charles answered in a chuckle.

On the other side of the country the faculty of Hogwarts were gathered to converse about their students. The headmaster started the meeting. "Now that the formalities are out the I ask if you have seen any peculiar students as of late?"

Filius spoke up. "Hermione Granger and Charles Ambrose are top of the class, yet Ambrose excels in everything practical as well and I do believe he is up to third year material already."

"I concur, he grasps transfiguration as easily as you or me Albus. Did you know, his first attempt ended up being a transmutation instead. After which It was the strangest lecture I have ever given." Minerva answered honestly.

"Potter is less of brat than I imagined, if not for Ambrose I fear my animosity for James would have gotten the better of me."

"How so?" Dumbledore asked curiously. Severus answered truthfully. "He decrypted my questioned at the beginning of class and by complete chance they turned out to mean I regret Lily's death. It was an invitation for me to speak to Harry Evans about his mother."

"Fate, not chance!" The divination professor added with milk dripping down from her mouth.

"If that is all." Severus interrupted the headmaster. "The Arena of Slytherin was used right before Christmas break." Unknown to the others Quirrell leaned closer interested in talk about his master's house and possibly new recruits.

"Indeed, a fight between Malfoy and Ambrose. The end results being that Malfoy lost all his political capitol and is still in the Hospital wing with Ambrose being elevated to leader of the first years if he so wish."

"I do not presume to know everything but please keep an eye on him Severus." Albus cautioned, the last person who began in the Arena and succeeded so completely had been Tom Riddle. He did not want to repeat the same mistake.

"very well then, this meeting is adjourned."