Well holy macaroni. The long awaited chapter is here. At least, I've been waiting for it!

I'm going to give credit straight away. This one's for the readers. In particular, it's for iheartloki, who came up with the idea in the first place! As well as Lola_Sophia for seconding it! I believe Zeeksmom did too but I've trawled through the comments section and couldn't find out for sure. Apologies if I've missed anyone. Regardless, this MASSIVE chapter is thanks to you beautiful souls. Thank you very much.

If anyone else can think of anything you'd particularly like to see Hermione and Lucius get up to, by all means feel free to leave it in the comments. I can't promise it'll make it in but I am grateful for any and all suggestions. Despite what these last few chapters have been like, a lot of the upcoming chapters are actually quite short, so in theory we do have some wriggle room here.

I'm really proud of this chapter. My editor worked her arse off on it and transformed it into a thing of beauty. Thanks so much Jessari, seriously. You amaze me.

With no further ado, read on and enjoy!

Hermione was enjoying a cup of tea and biscuits with Minerva when there was a knock at the door.

Hermione hadn't known they were expecting company. She turned to Minerva for an explanation, but it seemed the Headmistress was just as perplexed as she was.

Minerva waved the door open, and Daniel Rosier along with Vanessa Flint came into the Headmistress' office.

The two Slytherins froze after crossing the threshold. Hermione could see them regretting not making an appointment before arriving, and felt a brief stirring of pity for them. Minerva had an 'open door' policy. As was often the case with such things, it was rarely as flexible as was intended.

Bravely, Daniel stepped forward.

"I hope we're not interrupting." He said.

"What can I do for you, Mr Rosier, Miss Flint?" Minerva asked, curious.

He stood a little straighter. "Headmistress, Vanessa and I had an idea for a new club- well, actually an old one. We want to revive the Duelling Club."

"We have it all worked out." Vanessa took over. "There's even an old duelling hall on the third floor that's pretty central to everyone. It has duel shields set up and everything."

Hermione spoke up. "Those shields are old. You won't get much use out of them."

She knew that because she knew the exact hall they were talking about. She'd considered it, if only briefly, as a possible training room for Dumbledore's Army in her fifth year. Unfortunately, the undeniable advantage of duelling shields hadn't made up for the lack of secrecy.

"We'll recharge them." Daniel said. "We've looked into it. It shouldn't be a problem."

"We'll make sure the hall's all clean when we're done." Vanessa hurried to say. "We won't make any more work for the elves, Professor Granger. We promise."

Hermione and Minerva shared a significant look. Hermione gave a little shrug. She certainly had no objections to the idea, and it sounded like the two fifth years had put some thought into it.

"This is a very different conversation to the one we last had here." Minerva said. "I am pleased that you are using your talents for better things. I assume you have enough members for this club?"

"Here, Headmistress." Daniel said, passing her a sheet of parchment from within his robes.

Minerva gave it a perfunctory glance, before giving it to Hermione. "What do you think, Professor Granger?"

Her heart skipped a beat. The Headmistress wasn't just asking about the list; she wanted her opinion. This was a chance to show Minerva that she could be more than just a Charms Professor. That she could be trusted with more important, administrative tasks.

Focus.

Hermione looked down the list and saw it was made of about two dozen students. Not bad by the standards of a club that wasn't even up and running yet, but also to be expected. Duelling was something that would probably always inspire a reaction out of teenagers. Whether or not they would maintain an interest in it as time went by would depend entirely on Daniel and Vanessa.

"Mostly Slytherin, but not all." Hermione noted. "It's good that you reached out to the other Houses."

The Slytherins beamed with pride.

"Where exactly has this overpowering urge to duel come from?" Minerva asked.

Daniel replied, "There used to be a Duelling Club back in… well, back when Professor Granger was a student. Before then, when our parents were students, the Club was thriving. We think students these days should have a chance too."

Hermione found that logic hard to disagree with. The world was a peaceful place and had been for years. That didn't make preparation any less important. Besides, Hermione was of the opinion that some knowledge was simply worth knowing. Knowing how to defend oneself surely fell under that category.

Besides, if the school had a Gobstones club, she couldn't see why it shouldn't have a duelling club as well.

She felt a powerful surge of pride for Daniel. He was one of her favourite students, and she knew that his interest might be at least partially because she'd taken special care of his Charms education. Duelling was, after all, predominantly a Charms-based art.

Wryly, Minerva said, "Certainly, the Duelling Club was revived. For one lesson only, as your research would no doubt have told you. The leadership was somewhat lacking." Minerva's face grew stormy as her thoughts strayed to Lockheart. "If you want to do any better, you'll have to have some more structured leadership."

Vanessa seemed prepared for this. "We're happy to have a Professor there to supervise us, but we won't need them to do anything else. Daniel and I are good duellists already. We'll do all the teaching. The Professor could always just…" The young woman's nose wrinkled as she tried to think of something that teachers did. "Mark some papers, or something." She finished.

Minerva's blue eyes flickered to Hermione, and they shared an amused glance. To be that young again. To have that little understanding of all the hard work it took to keep this school going… and yet, so much initiative. Courage. The open mind it took to think of something like this.

Hermione had given a great deal of thought to her career at this school. She'd been made Head of House. With it, she'd even been given a place on the Board. She'd thought of many different ways that she could help the school and prove her worth as an administrator. And in all that time, the idea of reviving the Duelling Club had never occurred to her. She wasn't sure it ever would have.

Yes, being young had its drawbacks. But it definitely had its advantages.

Minerva considered them for a moment, and the young witch and wizard held their breath.

At last, the Headmistress said, "Professor Malfoy would be a good choice, I think. I remember him being a duelling enthusiast himself, when he was your age. Besides, if this is to be a Slytherin-led endeavor, as your Head of House the responsibility should lie with him." And then she started sorting through the files at her side, indicating that they were all dismissed. Hermione included.

Oh dear.

"Um." Vanessa said. "And are you going to pass this on to Professor Malfoy, or…?"

Minerva didn't even look up. "I think the two of you are quite capable of informing him yourselves. Thank you. That will be all."

Hermione wasn't there when Daniel and Vanessa gave Lucius the news, but she heard the whole thing from him in the hidden reading room in the library the very next day. Lit by stained glass lamps and only barely large enough for them both, the little room had become their sanctuary. It was theirs in a way that their offices weren't. Here, there was practically no chance of being disturbed, and a muffliato meant they couldn't be overheard.

As Hermione had predicted, Lucius was not happy.

They had been in the little nook for about fifteen minutes. Lucius was so upset that he hadn't even thought to order a tea-set for them, and in the end Hermione had done it. She poured them both a cup now while he seethed.

"We hardly have any time together as it is, Hermione." He complained. "Now we will have even less."

"Most clubs only meet once a week, Lucius." She said, to herself as much as him. "We'll have plenty of time to spend with each other."

She was trying to be positive about the whole thing, but really she couldn't help but agree with him. The club was a fantastic idea, and she was proud of the students for thinking of it. She was sure it would do them some good; particularly those of them who wanted to be Aurors one day.

That didn't mean that a part of her, which cared predominantly for her own happiness, wasn't a little bit resentful to lose time with her boyfriend. Even if it was for a good cause, and done with good intentions.

People were funny like that.

Hermione went on, "Besides, you supervising the Club is probably for the best. You can stop them from doing anything too dangerous."

"Perhaps." He said. "Though I expect it will be all I can do to stop them from breaking one anothers arms once a week. Madame Pomfrey will lay the blame at my feet for this, you realise."

Hermione couldn't completely dispute that. The Infirmary Witch was notoriously protective of the students, even by the standards of most teachers. "Probably." She conceded. "But if you get the blame for it, you get the credit too. After the Trial, this is probably a really good opportunity for Slytherin, don't you think?"

At this, his face took a thoughtful cast. Lucius was coming around to the idea. "True. And it is tradition…"

Hermione smiled fondly. "Tradition is important. A tradition that serves a purpose is even better. This could be a really good thing, Lucius. Dumbledore's Army brought a lot of students together. A Duelling Club could do the same thing."

"I'm sure it could." Lucius said, and she knew that he'd accepted it. Finally, he relaxed enough to take up his cup and have a little sip. French Earl Grey, just the way he liked it. The floral, aromatic scent filled the air. It was a nice smell, and she was starting to associate it with him.

"Did the Duelling Club run back when you were in school, Lucius?"

"It did." Lucius lifted his face with a hint of his former haughty pride. "I was First Wand in Sixth Year."

"What happened in Seventh?" Hermione teased, taking a biscuit and starting to nibble on the edges.

Lucius turned bleak. "Bellatrix discovered duelling."

Oh. Hermione felt her lips twist, as if she'd tasted something foul. Her appetite vanished. Her eyes fell to the sleeve of her robe, under which she knew lay her scar.

It was faint now. Spider thin, it was so faint that her friends had tried to tell her that it was completely gone. It wasn't. You just had to hold it up to the light.

Lucius reached out for her in apology. His hand came to rest on her cheek. She allowed it. His touch was cool and tender. She turned her face to press her lips to the palm of his hand.

He withdrew his hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned her."

"It's okay." Hermione said, and strangely enough, it was. "She's been gone for a long time. She can't hurt me anymore."

They were quiet for a while.

Lucius spoke. "She was my wife's sister, but she became… a horror. I grieve for the girl she once was, but I know it is for the best that she is gone."

"Yes, it is." Hermione rallied. Right before she remembered that the reason Bellatrix couldn't hurt anyone ever again was because Molly had killed her. Molly, who wouldn't talk to her ever again.

Everything felt very heavy all of a sudden.

"Oh, Hermione." Lucius said, and came to sit beside her. His hand slid behind her back to pull her in. Without thinking, she rested her head against his side. "It will be alright."

How could he know that? It was an empty platitude; the sort that people said when there was nothing else to say and no easy solution.

She felt better anyway. He cared. He was here. That was all she needed.

"Goodness, that was remarkably well done." Lucius observed, completely out of the blue. In the sapphire glow of the lamp at his side, Lucius' eyes shone an electric blue. The effect was stunning, and Hermione was starting to wonder if that was why he always chose to sit at the particular spot. It wouldn't have surprised her.

Frowning, Hermione asked, "What was?"

"You, handling me, a unco-operative professor. I find myself entirely persuaded. You will make a fine Deputy Headmistress."

Her grief and her regret were forgotten as Hermione felt herself blush right down to her roots.

"Thanks, Lucius."

The Duelling Club was to be held on Tuesday evenings, mostly because of Lucius' schedule. He had categorically refused to relinquish his Friday nights at the Head Club.

A week after Vanessa and Daniel had gone to Minerva for permission, the Club's inaugural meeting was held. Hermione went primarily because she wanted to show Lucius support. This was important to him. She was also genuinely interested. Not only because duelling was interesting, but because she wanted to see how it could be taught by someone who wasn't a complete idiot or totally disdainful of children.

The hall was just as she remembered it. Stone arches with a window at the far end to let in the light of the setting sun. There were a few key differences, though. The long, moonphase duelling platform running down the center of the room emitted a steady golden glow. Hermione was happy to see it. It meant the duelling shields were up and running.

Not only that, but there were a few training dummies set up against the walls. Hermione gave an approving nod. It was a clever idea. They didn't look as advanced as the ones they'd used in the DA, but they would do the trick.

Children mingled, mostly gathered into their separate houses. They were every bit as excited as she could have imagined. A few of them had their wands out and were going through practice lunges with varying degrees of success.

It was… adorable. Seeing their enthusiasm, their glee. It was also very encouraging. The fact that so many of them were tripping over their feet or fumbling their movements just meant that the Club was appealing to all sorts of students. As far as Hermione was concerned, that could only be a good thing.

What she hadn't expected was Viktor Krum being here. The Quidditch player stood surrounded by a gaggle of students. Standing amidst so many children only made him look even taller and broader than usual.

In the center of the hall, Lucius stood beside Vanessa and Daniel. His outfit was the elaborate, expensive kind that she knew meant he was making a special effort. Instead of his usual robes, he wore a long, pure white coat with jade stitching that showed off his build. It had a high, stiff collar. The collar was detailed with a winding snake embroidered on it. Where the coat hung open, she could see he wore a tight fitting black shirt and jodhpurs. His platinum hair was clipped high upon his head with an elegant silver piece from which dripped sparkling emeralds. She thought he looked more suited to a runway than a duelling hall, but it still had a vaguely martial impression, which she supposed was the general idea.

He looked… cheerful. Brighter than usual, surrounded by so many people. His lips quirked in a smile when he caught sight of her.

She approached them. Daniel and Vanessa seemed happy to see her, which she thought was really sweet considering Vanessa was so behind in her homework.

Daniel nodded his head in greeting, "Professor Granger! I didn't know you'd be coming. Are you here for the Club?"

Hermione gave him a reassuring smile. "If that's alright with you two. This is your Club. I'm not going to interfere."

Vanessa grinned, "Of course, it's alright, Professor! You're always welcome." Then her eyes strayed over Hermione's shoulder, and her expression went oddly vacant.

A moment later, Viktor joined them. He seemed blissfully unaware of the students trailing behind him.

"I heard about this Duelling Club." Viktor explained, shrugging his immense shoulders. "I wanted to see for myself."

"You can come by any time, Coach Krum." Vanessa said. Her eyes were shining, and Hermione saw Daniel give her a sideways look. She didn't think the Slytherin girl noticed. "If you have any… feedback to give us, go right ahead."

Viktor gave a modest shrug and tried to bring the subject back to the class, but it was a wasted effort. If the students had been interested before, they were captivated now. They resumed bombarding him with questions.

"Maybe we could have a demonstration?" One of the Gryffindors asked. "Mr Krum, sir, do you think you could-"

Viktor shook his head firmly. "I don't fight children." He said. "That is… not right."

The children deflated. All except a few of the older ones, who had the good sense to look relieved.

"But, what about the Professors?" Phillip Earlright, a Gryffindor second year, suggested. "Professor Granger's grownup, and Professor Malfoy's practically-" And then went quiet.

Hermione interjected before things could get out of hand. "Mr Earlright, that's quite enough."

Too late. Lucius cooly said, "No, Professor Granger, by all means. Let's hear it, Mr Earlright. Come, boy, do speak up. What is it you were about to say?"

The young Gryffindor couldn't be prevailed upon to say another word, which Hermione thought was very much for the best. Unfortunately, he was alone. The idea of the Professors duelling spread like wildfire and soon all the children were repeating it.

"Please, Professors! Please please please-" A couple of Hufflepuffs chattered at them.

"Oh go on, Professor Granger, show us how you beat Death Eaters in the war."

"Um, Professor Malfoy, excuse me, sir, but didn't you used to be a duellist?"

"Alright, everyone settle down." Hermione raised her hands, and the hall fell silent. A dozen hopeful pairs of eyes looked at her. She remained strong. Then several lips started wobbling, and Hermione's resolve wavered.

For all the myriad failures of Lockhart's Club, the demonstration of two adults had been a good idea. Even if Gilderoy hadn't had the magical skill to pull it off, it could only be helpful to have students see what they could aim for.

It was no different to Minerva's tendency to arrive at Transfiguration class in her Animagus form. Nothing quite motivated people like a glimpse of what they could achieve if they worked at it.

"One duel." Hermione finally relented. "If you're sure you're alright with it, Viktor?"

The Seeker smiled. "It's no problem. I like duelling."

"A moment, Viktor." Lucius asked. "For preparation, you understand. Neither Hermione or I came here ready to duel."

Viktor gave him a nod. Hermione and Lucius left the room. They weren't much missed. The students started peppering Krum with questions before they'd even stepped out of the hall.

If there was one thing Hogwarts never lacked, it was an empty room. She and Lucius crossed the hall to find a classroom that looked like it hadn't been used in years. Thanks to the castle elves, it wasn't dusty in the slightest. It just lacked… character.

Lucius carefully shut the door behind them, and they were alone.

"That was clever." Hermione said appreciatively. "Now you've got time to plan a strategy."

Lucius pulled his brows together in a frown. "Whatever for?"

"For fighting Viktor, obviously. Now, he was a duellist in Durmstrang and since he read my- um, that book I shouldn't have published, we can probably assume he's kept it up since then. He's pretty good at Transfiguration and Charms, or at least he was in the Tournament. I can give you some tips-"

Lucius held up a gentle hand, and Hermione fell silent. "Hermione, I am starting to suspect that we have misunderstood one another. I thought, I assumed, that you understood that you were the obvious choice to fight Viktor."

Hermione drew back in confusion. "What? Lucius, don't you have years of duelling experience? I'm a scholar. You should fight him."

"I-? Fight that young dragon?" Lucius laughed incredulously. It was a beautiful sound. His head tilted backwards, and the jewels in his hair caught the light. "I think not."

"Well someone's going to have to." Hermione said, feeling a bit cross. "The students have their hopes up."

Lucius Malfoy floated across the room towards her. His long legs ate up the distance in moments, and suddenly he stood right in front of her.

Feather-light, his fingers traced her chin and tilted her face up. He leaned in, closer and closer. His eyes turned cloudy, his lips parted, and Lucius Malfoy smouldered.

"Please." He murmured.

Hermione felt her face grow very hot, all of a sudden. Her lungs strained, and failed, to draw breath. The force of his magnetism was a physical thing. He smirked. It didn't break the spell. If anything, it only made things worse.

His thumb traced her lower lip. Her knees were shaking, threatening to betray her at any moment.

Twining her fingers through the knot of his cravat, she pulled him down until her lips rested against the shell of his ear. The little jolt that ran through him was deeply satisfying.

"Not a chance." She whispered. "Your students, your Club, your responsibility."

"Bah!" Lucius exclaimed, and released her. He dropped the highly charged aura he'd summoned, and she could breathe again.

Lucius turned to face away from her for a moment. He took a deep breath, and when he turned back to her, his demeanour was entirely different. Serious. Thoughtful.

"I have often regretted," Lucius said softly, "that you were not of an age to represent Hogwarts at the Triwizard tournament, Hermione."

What? Hermione thought. What does that have to do with anything…?

And yet, it was a sweet thing to say. She'd be lying if she said she'd never wondered how she might have done as Hogwarts Champion. She liked to think she would have done quite well. "Really?"

In that same quiet tone, he went on. "Indeed. Your abilities would have made you a remarkable champion. Not only that, but women were woefully under-represented that year. Four champions and only one witch amongst them? A terrible shame."

Then Hermine saw the glint in his eyes, and suddenly it all made sense. "Let me guess." She said flatly. "As a feminist, you're thinking that to right old wrongs, I should have the opportunity to fight Viktor Krum today?"

His smile was like the sun. "Hermione, I have no idea what on earth a 'feminist' is, but if being one allows me to keep my arms and legs in their proper places, consider me among their ranks."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Lucius, don't be so dramatic. It's just a duel."

His reply was smooth as silk. "If it is only a duel, dearest witch, then I see no reason why it should concern you."

Hermione wavered. This was silly. This wasn't even her club. She hadn't come here with any intentions of duelling at all. It seemed ridiculous to fight Viktor Krum. It also seemed ridiculous that Lucius was so against fighting Krum himself. Certainly, Lucius may not be a 'bangs and smells' sort of wizard, but surely he was at least capable of holding his own? He'd fought in the first Wizarding War, from what she understood. He'd been a duellist back in his schooling years too. More than that, though, Krum was a gentleman. He and Lucius were friends. She doubted that Krum would seriously harm Lucius for the sake of a duel.

Her common sense and her courage started to fight it out, and perhaps her common sense might have won, if her curiosity hadn't raised it's head.

Then again…

She did have some spells she wanted to try out. Not ones from the book she'd published after the War, obviously. Krum would surely be prepared for those. New jinxes and shields she'd thought up for one of her many unfinished Charms books. Magic that had never seen the light of day. They might prove useful in a practical setting, they might not. There was only one way to find out.

For the first time, it occurred to Hermione that this was a real opportunity. Practice dummies could only get her so far, and the really good ones were hideously expensive. A talented, powerful duellist like Krum could be a valuable asset to her research.

She made her choice.

"Oh, fine." Hermione said. "I'll do it."

"You are serious-? Circe be praised!" Lucius beamed. He took her hand and kissed it warmly. She could feel the curve of his smile against her knuckles, her fingers. A laugh escaped her.

They left the classroom and returned to the Duelling Hall. Hermione was smiling as they entered the room. This was actually… really exciting. Her first duel in years!

No-one noticed their entrance, and she immediately saw why.

Viktor stood flanked by a semicircle of students. The Seeker drew out the pale, twisting wood of his wand and levelled it at the flagstones at his feet. Viktor frowned, muttered something under his breath, and the stone exploded- no. It would be more accurate to say that the stone vaporised. All that remained of it was a fine cloud of dust hanging in the air.

The children let out a great, 'oooh!' at this, and started clapping.

Slowly, Hermione and Lucius looked at one another, speechless.

Lucius recovered first and said in a rush, "I have the greatest confidence in your abilities. Have at it."

It was at this point that Hermione realised she had made a terrible mistake. Unfortunately, she couldn't back down now. She'd told Lucius that she'd be the one to duel Krum, and so she would. She was too proud and too honest to do otherwise.

No sense in putting it off. Hermione climbed up the steps to the platform. A few students shouted encouragement and bolstered her courage.

The recently rejuvenated shield hummed in the air before her. She tapped against it with her wand and it parted; a space just wide enough for her to fit through. She stepped through and felt it knit closed behind her.

Twenty feet away, on the other side of the platform, Viktor had done the same thing. Straight-backed and tall, he didn't seem nervous in the slightest.

Krum started going through warm up exercises. He braced his hands behind his head and turned one way, then the other. He stretched. He bent over to touch his toes and stood up straight again. His movements were practiced and efficient.

Hermione wasn't quite sure what to do, so she just made sure her hair was securely tied back behind her head. She went over her repertoire of hexes and spells, making particular note of those she wanted to practice. Once that was done, she simply stood and took deep breaths.

"I don't know the first thing about formal duelling." Hermione felt the need to explain. "We only had one lesson of it at Hogwarts, the rest was all-" Stunners in the back. Fighting four enemies at once, none of who cared about rules at all. Hurling tables and statues across the room at Death Eaters and bigots who wanted you dead, relying on your friends to shield you the whole time- "-well, it wasn't particularly structured."

"That is fine." Krum said. "We Bulgarians don't worry so much about stances and bowing as you English do."

In the crowd, Lucius bristled, but Hermione only smiled. It was good news.

"I don't suppose there's any chance we could ease into it, at first?" Hermione asked. "I'm more of an academic, these days. I might need a bit of practice."

"We could have a minute of testing blows." Viktor said. "It is not a bad idea."

She sent a querying look to Lucius, who raised no objection.

"I will count the minute." He said. "If the two of you are ready to begin?"

They both raised their wands and stood ready.

Lucius carved a fiery number sixty in the air, which began to tick down.

The testing blows were just that. She fired off a few stupefys and he returned the favour. Nothing strong enough to do serious damage if their shield charms failed. They didn't.

Thirty seconds left.

Hermione was surprised. Shields had always come easily to her, but there was something very different about casting a shielding charm when there were actual hexes flying at you, compared to demonstrating in class. A small part of her had been worried that she'd lost the knack. Apparently not. She deflected everything Viktor sent at her with time to spare. Perhaps some things, your mind just retained.

Quicker and quicker Viktor's bolts flew, and still Hermione's breath came easily. In through her nose, out through her mouth. In through her nose-

And then… zero. The real duel had begun.

Faintly, she heard Lucius announce that the minute was up. He needn't have bothered, because the next hex Krum sent at her was a Bone Crusher. A nasty, tricky hex which she had never seen outside of a textbook.

The students broke out into applause as she sent it careening away to be absorbed by the duelling shields. Across the platform, Viktor smiled at her. He looked impressed, but by no means intimidated.

She was an academic, so she played to her strengths. She studied him.

Viktor was strong.

The first strike that hit her protego made her teeth rattle in her gums. She made a note not to let any hexes get that far if she could possibly help it. If one of them broke through and hit her, she'd be in serious trouble.

Viktor was fast.

His blows came one after the other, a relentless fiery barrage that belied his power. His wand movements were so smooth and so quick that he flowed from one spell to the next without pause. He dealt with the inquisitive hexes she sent back at him without breaking stride.

Viktor was smart.

After the first few fireballs, Bone Crushers and stunners, Viktor switched tactics and sent the more subtle types of hexes against her. A Confundus. A Tongue Jammer and a Mind Boggler. Protecting herself against those sorts of spells had always been a particular strength of hers. She deflected, negated, and dismantled everything of that sort he sent at her with ease. He saw that she was breathing easier and switched right back to brute force. Once again, she was on the defensive.

She momentarily thought back to her fourth year, and the Triwizard Tournament. How on Earth did Harry ever beat you?

He was so powerful, in fact, that if she had any hopes of beating him, she knew she'd have to be creative.

Hermione took inventory.

She was a transfiguration witch about as much as she was a charms witch, but unfortunately using transfiguration magic in a duel was very, very difficult. It took time. It also took resources. Resources she didn't have very much of at the moment.

What did she have?

While she pondered, Viktor bombarded her with missiles of a dozen different shapes and sizes. Clever. They came so close together that she couldn't tell which was which before they struck. She had to treat every strike as if it could be enough to do her serious harm. That meant furiously trying to block all of them, and expending huge amounts of energy creating powerful shields to protect her against every single one.

What she wouldn't give for a few bits of furniture. A few spoons. Something.

Fifteen feet away, a lifetime away, Viktor Krum grimaced, gritted his teeth and doubled down on his hexes.

It was costing him, Hermione realised. Even a wizard of his talent had limits. Neither of them were Dumbledore or Voldemort. The power to summon fire and lightning didn't just come out of nowhere. It drained you; mentally and, to a degree, physically as well.

She could just keep going, she realised. She had the strength to hold until he ran out of energy. But she wouldn't win that way. Not in the way that she wanted to win.

Somewhere to her right, Lucius Malfoy and the children were watching.

Her wand snapped up and down, and a shield wrapped her from head to toe. It was one of her own creations, designed to be used against an enemy you couldn't see. Or against a stronger opponent.

It should be able to hold off against one of his hexes, if they made it past her protego. Maybe two. It would fade with time, but it was an edge. One of the few she had.

Viktor frowned. He'd seen her wand move, but he couldn't see the shield. Good.

The materials she had to work with were limited. She had stones, air, and the platform itself. Time to use them.

First things first… She turned her attention to the carpet at their feet. It was very hard. She had to do it in between intercepting and shielding against his strikes, which meant she couldn't look directly at it. She visualised it instead. The navy blue cloth, the moon cycle upon it. She imagined it stirring, coming alive.

With intense concentration she commanded, "Contorqueri."

The carpet at his feet twitched, and there was just a moment of surprise on his face before it sprang up and coiled around him, winding tighter and tighter until he was totally obscured. He thrashed but she held her wand steady. The carpet held. Then she cast a fastening charm to lock it in place.

Because she wasn't a monster, she left him enough space to breathe.

She was under no illusions. The binding wouldn't hold for long. Viktor was too strong a wizard for that. It would buy her time, though, and time was what she needed.

Hermione cast every bolstering charm that she could think of. Reflexes. Strength. Senses. Anything to improve her chances. She did everything she could to make herself stronger than she was.

Could Viktor breathe in there? She realised that she wasn't sure. She was about ready to let him out when a section of the carpet burst into flames. Standing in the flames, unburnt, was Viktor Krum.

He was back in the fight, and for the first time since the duel had begun, Viktor looked… grim. Even a little angry. His shoulders were hunched, and as he fixed his gaze on her, Hermione felt a thrill of fear run through her.

Even with her enhancements, his wand-arm was a blur. Between them, the air trembled-

Darkness engulfed her, an abyss that swallowed her from head to toe.

It burned.

She'd never felt anything like it, but she was aware of movement. The blackness roiled around her. Seething, it gnawed at the skin of her face and her hands, and she had to swallow a scream.

A darkness with teeth.

Hermione wasn't blind. She was trapped. If he sent another bolt at her, she'd have no way of defending against it. Hermione didn't like being trapped, and she didn't like being defenceless.

She summoned up a hurricane. She weaved it together from the dregs of clean air she could muster up, from a Grand Tempest charm and the breath in her own lungs.

She choked out. "Tempestas maxima."

She sent the tempest roaring straight ahead and reduced the darkness to wisps that hung in the air between her and Viktor. Viktor, who was looking so absolutely shocked that she knew he hadn't actually expected her to fight her way out of whatever magic he'd used against her.

It was… reassuring.

Her storm wasn't done. The dark clouds hung in the air around them. Her wand hand snapped out and the storm coalesced, and she sent it screaming towards Viktor.

If she were a better witch, she could have sent lightning bolts and snow from within the storm at him. As it was, the winds were all she could manage. He cried out and snapped a Silver Shield ahead of him almost in time. The storm snatched him up-

Viktor hit the shield-wall with a colossal thud, and the slightest bit of worry for him crept in and weakened her resolve. He was on his feet in a heartbeat. Hermione gritted her teeth and pushed with everything she had, pinning him against the barrier with her winds.

She bent the whole of her strength to it. She dropped all of her shields. She shut off the part of her mind that planned for a counterattack, trusting the winds to protect her.

She was one wrong move, one wrong thought, away from death. Summoning up a storm was one thing. Maintaining it was another. The exact balance required to give a tempest this small enough force to hurl Viktor backwards was something she couldn't have imagined herself capable of. She simply did it.

A thrill that went beyond excitement coursed through her. She was scoured clean. There was nowhere for fear to go.

Viktor fought like a cornered wolf, which she supposed was exactly what he was. His hexes felt oddly frantic, cast in the moment between moments. Not planned, not strategic. Whatever wand movements the storm would allow him at any time. Stupifiys, Reductos, empowered Flipendos. All dissipated before they could reach her. Once, the red fire of a hex fizzled out a mere ten feet from her, and she thought he heard him groan in despair. It was hard to hear anything over the wind.

He shouldn't have been able to do anything. Just staying upright should have been too much for him. Somehow, in the midst of the frantic struggle, Hermione made space for awe.

Viktor strained and heaved against her. His titanic strength bowed against the pressure of her storm. He set his shoulders into the wind and staggered forward a single step, face twisted in superhuman effort.

In the cacophony, she heard her wand creak.

She bore down on him again and again, pinning him against the golden light of the wall. Holding him back took everything she had.

With every surge of the stormwall, the shield rang like a struck gong again and again until the blows came so close together that it became one continuous tone in her ears.

Viktor and Hermione met eyes.

Continuing would be dangerous. If the shield came down, the students would be at risk.

She made a cutting motion in the air, and banished the storm. One moment it was there, the next it was simply gone. Her ears rang in the silence. Viktor straightened, bowed to her, and sheathed his wand inside his jacket.

The moment she put her wand away, it was as if she'd let go of every fibre of strength in her body. Suddenly, she had nothing left.

She bent over double, sucking in air. Her knees were shaking.

As she pulled herself upright, her vision went dark for a moment. Her ears were ringing. When the dizziness abated, she saw that Lucius was starting the enchantments to drop the shield. The students were silent and open mouthed.

The moment demanded that she say something, but she was just so tired.

She panted out. "Jesus, Viktor. Who taught you how to duel? Merlin?"

The Seeker laughed weakly. "I could ask you the same question, Hermione Granger."

She grinned fiercely, and staggered towards him. They shook hands, and the students burst into applause.

She looked at Lucius. She couldn't help it. He was clapping as well. He looked cool, composed, but she knew him well enough to see the pride in his eyes. The respect.

Lucius thought she was a good duellist. Or, at least, a good fighter. That in itself was good enough for her. She was proud of herself as well, though. She'd fought well. She hadn't done everything perfectly, but she'd adapted and kept her courage. She could ask for no more from herself.

"Um." Vanessa started. "That was- well, that's not what you'll be learning from us. At all."

Daniel, alone of all the students, looked more horrified than impressed. "Rule number one; No trying to kill each other."

She, Lucius and Viktor meandered to one side of the room as Daniel and Vanessa took over. They had rules. They had expectations. They had lesson plans. Hermione couldn't have been happier.

Viktor left soon after. He said he had to be back in Bulgaria for dinner, but Hermione knew he was in pain. The way he pressed a hand to his ribs when no-one was looking was very telling. Hermione told him to go to the Infirmary, and when he refused, picked out a fourth year to escort him. He finally relented, gave them all a tired wave, and left.

One of the Hufflepuffs stuck up her hand and asked Vanessa. "Will Professor Longbottom be coming along?"

"I think he's a bit too busy raising his second child to be worrying about teaching us shielding charms in his spare time, Penny." Vanessa replied wryly.

"No, I meant Professor Augusta Longbottom. She's Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. Maybe she could teach us too?"

Daniel and Vanessa glanced at one another. "That's an excellent idea." Daniel said. "I'll ask her, but whether she agrees is up to her. She's got a lot on her plate already."

Beside her, Lucius gave an approving little nod. She understood. He would be happy for any help he could get, if it meant he could spend more time with her.

Hermione glowed. The rest of the meeting went by in a flash.

The students eagerness for duelling was sated enough by her fight with Krum that they barely even argued when Daniel told them they would only be practicing stances for the rest of the lesson. For the next forty minutes, the witch and the wizard watched the children learn, and teach, in pleased silence.

The meeting was called to a close. Gradually, the room emptied. Vanessa and Daniel stayed until all the students' questions had been answered, then left, promising to recharge the shields at midnight. Lucius moved to follow suit.

"Stay." Hermione said. They still had something left to do. Something she knew was very necessary, even if it might be hard.

"In here?" Lucius frowned, looking about the room. "Leave recharging the shield to Mr Rosier and Miss Flint, Hermione. This is their responsibility, after all."

She raised her wand. "Lucius, duel me."

He froze, so profoundly startled that he couldn't even reply.

Hermione didn't back down.

This was something Lucius cared about. Something he'd been proud of. Duelling had been a huge part of his life, and he'd given it up at least in part because he didn't believe in himself. She could understand that. He'd been wand-stripped, and imprisoned, and tortured. The war had left scars on him, just as it had on her. He'd turned down his chance to fight Krum because he thought he couldn't handle it.

Hermione wanted to help him. She wanted to show him how wrong he was about himself. Lucius Malfoy was an incredible wizard.

"Lucius." She said. "You can do this. You don't have to if you don't want to, but I'm asking you to duel me."

Lucius' gaze softened with memory. "Before… perhaps. But now… Hermione, it would be a farce. I can't beat you."

"And I can barely stand up." Hermione said, laughing. She turned serious. "Lucius, I fought Krum because the students wanted me to. I'll duel you because... I'd be honoured to do it. We'd have to be gentle with one another anyway, since the shields are weakened."

Lucius stared at her for what felt like a very long time. She tried to project her trust in him. Her admiration.

People could do incredible things, if only they had someone to believe in them.

Lucius started to take off his coat, and her heart sang. He crossed the room to hang it over a practice dummy. Hermione climbed the steps to the platform once more feeling exhausted, sore, and totally at peace.

When he joined her on the duelling platform, it was with his wand in hand. He whipped the long, dark wood to the side and bowed to her. So quickly that Hermione was only barely able to return the gesture before he stood ready.

A second went by, and Hermione realised they were both waiting. Waiting for someone to count down for them.

Quietly, she asked, "Should I do it, or...?"

Lucius smiled a tight smile. "In these circumstances, both parties usually count down together. From three?"

That made sense. Hermione pulled in a breath, and nodded her assent.

They began. A shiver ran over her. Pre-fight nerves, probably.

"One."

Her body felt like a taut rubber band, ready to snap into action. She was fuelled by pure adrenaline at this point.

"Two."

Lucius was completely still. Not stiff. Just… still. Like a cat in the moments before it pounced. Like a hawk hovering on an updraft.

"Three."

The fiery bolt leapt across the room and came close enough to warm the skin on her face before she expertly sheared the flame in half, sending it rushing past either side of her.

Hermione blinked hard. She hadn't seen it coming. She hadn't seen his hands move at all, nor his lips move in an incantation.

Was Lucius…?

He gave her no time to think. To analyse. Another bolt came at her, closely followed by a Confundus. She recognised the hexes by shape and colour only, and deflected them by the skin of her teeth.

The urge to counter, to throw all she had at him, rose up in her. An instinctive part of her, however, knew that if she did that, she might as well just throw the duel now. She would lose the meager strength she had left if she were to give in to the temptation to bombard him, and knowing how good of a duellist he was, he would take full advantage of it.

Fighting Lucius was like fighting a shadow. A shadow with the capacity to kill her, if she let it.

His movements were all but inscrutable. The movements of his wand were so subtle, so minimal, that it was hard to say what he was casting. Sometimes it looked as though he hadn't moved at all. His magic was wordless.

It was disconcerting, to say the least. She'd fought against enemies she hadn't been able to see clearly. Who'd struck at her from behind corners. She'd fought against enemies who were smart enough to whisper their spells under their breath. Bellatrix, when she, Ginny and Cho had fought her, had occasionally cast without speaking at all.

She'd never had to fight one who did a variation of both.

Lucius had had the benefit of study, she realised. He knew her weaknesses, thanks to her duel with Krum. She didn't know his.

She didn't have the strength for one of her full-body shields, so she settled for a Protego. She tore up a few chunks out of the ceiling and sent them hurtling down at him.

Finally, a reaction she could understand. His eyes widened and he blasted the stones away, but not before a few small rocks struck him on the side of his face, leaving bloody streaks. Instinctively, his hand drew up to press against his cheek.

It was his first mistake, and Hermione knew she had to make good on it.

"Expelliarmus!"

The charm was slower than it should have been. He deflected it, if only barely. Hermione resisted the urge to growl. She wouldn't get a chance like that again, and she'd used more magic than she could afford to spare.

If she had been rested, she would have been stronger than him. Her knowledge was at least his equal.

He whittled her down, spell after spell. His strikes were noticeably weaker than they would have been if he'd vocalised them, or if he'd done the wand movements to the extent that he should have. Given how tired she was, it didn't matter. He was fresh, and she wasn't.

This wasn't to say that she didn't do well. She managed a sparkling hex that blinded him for long enough for her to pierce his shields and hit him with a stupefy. It wasn't strong enough to do much more than wind him, but it was a good strike nonetheless and she was proud of it.

Pride didn't mean she was stupid, though. Her Protegos were splintering almost as fast as she could make them. Soon she would have to use a lesser shield, and to do so, even against Lucius' weaker spells, would be a mistake.

Besides, she'd done what she wanted to do. At least, she hoped that she had. If this duel didn't give Lucius some appreciation for his own abilities, she really didn't know what could.

"I yield." She said.

On his wand-tip, a hex fizzled away to nothing. Sounding really surprised, Lucius called out, "I beg your pardon?"

"I yield." She repeated herself. "There's no point in going on any more. Do I have to throw my wand down? I think I read that somewhere, but I really don't want to."

Lucius looked appalled at the idea. "No, dearest. There's no need for that." He lowered his wand and walked towards her, crossing the moon's journey in easy strides. "If you're certain, then I... I accept your surrender."

Hermione sighed in relief. "That's good."

She took a deep breath, letting it strengthen her. She felt sore. Her arms and legs ached, a deep pounding pulse in time with her heartbeat. It was a strangely good feeling; the reward of hard work.

Her hair was plastered to her neck in sweaty streaks. It should have felt disgusting. It didn't. She felt… fantastic, actually. A little light-headed, perhaps, but there was something different about the moments after a fight. Not a fight to the death, obviously, but a fight to test yourself. A fight against friends, allies, or…

Or lovers.

Hermione closed the space between them and threw her arms around his neck. She laid a kiss to the cheek she'd injured, soothing the skin there. He stiffened, but only for a moment before relaxing into her with a chuckle.

"Hermione." He said wryly. "Is this really the appropriate-?"

Lucius never got the chance to finish, because her lips found his.

The kiss was molten. Languorous. She took her time, savouring every moment of her mouth against his. She fluttered her tongue against his lower lip for just a moment and the kiss deepened. Her head spun.

She nuzzled into him. Her hands slipped under his shirt to trace the muscles of his stomach. He had a little softness there. Not much, but a little. His build was so starkly different to every other man she'd ever been with. There was nothing boyish about him. He was all power, all maturity. It excited her.

Lucius pulled back.

She'd sensed this before. The very first night they'd kissed, up on the rooftop. And again, since then. He wanted her, that was indisputable. But for whatever reason, when things grew a little… heated… he would pull away. Slow the kiss down. Take her hands from around his neck, or his chest, and kiss them. All the thousand and one little signals that showed a lover that while, yes, the other party was having a lovely time, they weren't ready to go further. Not just yet.

Perhaps it was the fact that they could get discovered at any moment. Maybe he just wasn't quite ready. Either way, his reasons didn't matter. He didn't want to go any further right now, and that was all she needed to know.

She smothered the little pang of disappointment, and strangled the surge of animal instinct that tried to push her against him. She gave him another kiss, but this one was all tenderness, no fire.

She took his hands in hers and gave them a squeeze.

Admiring his blush, she said, "I had no idea you knew how to do that. Wordless magic, I mean. And that trick with your wand movements… that was really clever. I've never seen anyone do that."

Lucius smirked. "I would certainly hope not. I haven't spellcast in that way since I was a young man. After a few terms, everyone else at the Club knew to watch for it. I was hoping you had not heard the stories. Considering I was not soundly defeated, it would seem I was right."

A… school trick? That was how he had beaten her? A trick he'd learned fifty years ago?

"Lucius." Hermione said, really amazed. "When was the last time you duelled?"

"That night." Lucius answered straight away. "In the Ministry."

All that time? "Lucius, that was years ago. Are you saying you haven't duelled since then? Haven't done much offensive magic at all?"

"None, unless you include fighting off the dementors."

He hadn't practiced at all? He had lived a purely academic life, using only the minimal amount of Charmwork that potioneering required, and not used any kind of defensive or aggressive magic?

He'd pushed her hard. If she hadn't ended the fight when she had, he might have really hurt her. If he hadn't cared about her and had pressed his advantage right from the start, she thought he probably would have.

Slowly, Hermione said, "Lucius, you're amazing."

Lucius scoffed, and she said it again, "No, really. I mean it. You're amazing."

His fingers traced her cheek, and he stared down at her in silence for a long moment.

"Some day, Hermione, I will do for you what you do for me." Lucius said.

You're already doing it, you big idiot.

Hermione hadn't come to this school with any romantic intentions. This had just been another step in a greater plan for her future. If she'd found some friends along the way? Great. If not, that was fine too. That was all it was ever meant to be.

And here he was. Giving her something she'd never planned on, but she found she needed all the same. Companionship. Actual, real companionship. It was actually incredible to think of what a difference it made, even during the most basic of exchanges. Knowing that they had one another to rely on. Knowing that she could share a bit of gossip she'd heard with him. Having his hand to hold under the staff table. His subtle winks at her in the corridor, returned by her significantly less subtle winks.

It should have all just been a distraction. A drain on her mental faculties. It wasn't. She felt stronger. Happier. More fulfilled.

It was amazing. They could be amazing together. In that moment, tired and sweaty and more than a little bit aroused, she looked up at him and saw their potential. At least a little bit of it. She wanted it so badly she could barely breathe.

She forced herself back to the matter at hand.

"If we'd been duelling properly, when would I have been disqualified?" She asked. "Aside from the fact I didn't bow at the same time as you, obviously. I know I should have done that."

Lucius didn't even have to think. "You moved half a step to the right when I cast my Confringo."

She had? She hadn't meant to. She'd known that moving any other direction than forwards or backwards was a disqualifiable offence in duelling. That was common knowledge. If she'd moved to the sides at all, it must have been subconsciously.

Hermione trusted his judgement, though. If he said she'd moved illegally, she had.

She doubted that that had been her only mistake. "What about after that?"

"Throwing the ceiling at me was an illegal move."

He said it without the slightest bit of condemnation. He wasn't judging her. He was just answering her question.

"It wasn't the whole ceiling." Hermione felt the need to say. "To be fair."

Lucius chuckled. "And yet, dearest, it is very much not done in duelling."

Hermione thought, in hindsight, that he probably had a point.

"I can learn how to do it properly." Hermione said. "I can learn how to duel, not just fight."

"Hermione," He said tenderly, "Why would you learn to duel? A mermaid might as well learn the backstroke. It would be a waste of your abilities."

Hermione resisted the urge to toss her head. Honestly. Men could be so blind at times. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because the man I care about likes duelling?"

Lucius fell silent, and looked at her. That gaze that saw so much beneath the skin.

"Hermione, you don't need to be proficient at everything I enjoy. You do enough." He reached out, and cupped her cheek. Hermione flinched. That stung.

Startled, Hermione said, "Ow." And Lucius pulled his hand away, worry flickering in his eyes.

As he pulled his hand away, a few flakes of skin came with it. Lucius' mouth opened in an 'o' of horror, and Hermione felt a deep, gnawing itch start, just beneath her skin.

"Oh, fuck." Hermione said.

By the time Lucius had got her to the first floor, it hurt to walk. Every now and then, out of a perverse fascination, Hermione would lift up her hands and look. The skin of her hands looked oddly greasy, where it wasn't peeling off. She couldn't see the muscle beneath, though. Yet.

Beside her, Lucius was fuming.

"You did look flushed, but I thought it was only from exertion-"

"Lucius. It's okay. I had no idea either. What magic was that that Krum used?"

Lucius hesitated. When he spoke, he sounded disturbed. Worried. "I have seen Him use something similar, though Viktor's was perhaps less agile, more virulent- It doesn't matter. Pomfrey will know what to do."

Hermione sagged against the wall. She was breathing hard. Not because she was really out of breath, but because her body was desperately trying to find a way to push past the pain to do what she needed to do and get her to the Infirmary. It wasn't working.

"I can't." Hermione said. Admitting that hurt almost as much as everything else did. It was also the truth.

Lucius nodded, and floated her the rest of the way.

Madame Pomfrey took one look at her and shook her head.

"Your opponent is already here, Ms Granger." She said, pointing to where Krum lay on another bed. "There, on the bed, please. I've heard all about your little duel, didn't I tell Minerva it would come to no good? Sit down, Ms Granger. I'll assess the damage."

Hermione didn't take Pomfrey's scorn to heart. She was vocal of anything that could conceivably cause harm to anyone on school grounds. Quidditch, the Whomping Willow and apparently duelling.

Hermione picked a free bed and sat down. Pomfrey flicked her wand to draw the curtain around to shield her from the occupied student beds. She tried to get comfortable. It wasn't easy. Either she was more hurt than she'd thought, or she'd gotten spoiled by her four-poster teacher's bed.

Probably both.

In the bed across from hers, Krum lay totally inert. The Seeker was terribly swollen with black and blue bruises, his arms and legs puffed up like tree trunks. His face wasn't much better.

Despite her aches and pains, Hermione felt a stab of sympathy for Krum.

Lucius stood beside her bed, watching Poppy as she rattled a medicine trolley across the room to where Hermione lay.

"Perhaps I may be of assistance." Lucius offered smoothly. "I have a Regrowth potion brewed fresh last month, and a vial of Justinia's-"

It was the wrong move. Hermione winced.

Poppy put her hands on her hips, and Lucius realised that he was in trouble.

The wizard put up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Ah, Madam-"

It was too late. The little old witch would not be placated. "I assure you, Mr Malfoy, that I am more than capable of administering to my patients without your oversight."

"I never claimed-"

"Out! Out! Out!" She punctuated herself with a flap of her hands as she shoo'ed Lucius out of the door. The look he sent Hermione, towering over the shoulder of the Infirmary witch, was one of plaintive indignation.

It was just too funny. Hermione laughed, and laughed.

The Infirmary witch drew the curtains completely shut and checked Hermione over.

It was all done with unaffected, professional efficiency. The kind that left no room for embarrassment, even if the situation should have been embarrassing. Hermione just felt comforted. Whatever it was, she was confident that Poppy could fix it. The Infirmary witch was one of the best in her field.

Her assessment found what Hermione might have expected; a corrosive mist and quite nasty, but thankfully not a Cursed one. It wouldn't be a quick recovery, at least not by magical standards, but nor would it be a particularly harrowing one.

Her hands and face were the worst. This was not to say that the rest of her was uninjured, however. Viktor's hex had snuck under her robes to scour the skin beneath as well.

Madame Pomfrey filled a spray bottle with a sweet smelling, faintly green liquid and sprayed it over her. Apparently, the treatment would be repeated twice a day for the next few days before she'd be ready to leave the Infirmary.

"I'm sure I can spray it over myself, Pomfrey." Hermione said. "I've got classes to teach, after all."

Pomfrey frowned. "I'm sure you could, Ms Granger. But would you? Or would you get caught up in your notes and homework and forget?"

Hermione couldn't argue with that.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione was actually a little bit glad the Infirmary Witch had gotten rid of Lucius. The treatment was working; she'd felt better mere moments after it had misted over her skin. It wasn't flattering in the slightest, though. She felt more like a snake than a girl; her skin scaly, flaking off in patches, and yet somehow glistening. She didn't really want Lucius to see her like this.

Still, at least she looked better than Krum.

Poor Viktor ended up getting slathered up and down with a thick paste; despite his repeated objections that 'a few bruises wouldn't kill him'. Hermione sent him sympathetic glances, which he returned with various understanding and amused looks. Clearly he wasn't offended by the situation he found himself in.

"I am sorry that you have ended up here," Krum said once they were alone for a moment. "I did not mean to take you from your classes."

Hermione gave him a slightly pained half smile. "It was educational, challenging, and dare I say fun, duelling with you. I don't regret it. If anything, the students have inspiration to work harder in their studies, knowing what they could achieve one day."

He inclined his head in agreement, and Hermione could tell that he instantly regretted the movement, as it strained his swollen neck.

Then Pomfrey was back with more treatments, and their conversation was over.

Pomfrey had barely even sat down before Hermione had visitors. A male visitor, by the tenor of the voice. Hermione leaned as far as she could in the direction of the door, and eavesdropped.

"No, Tiberius. Professor Granger needs rest. She's not going to get rest with all you boys coming in here every ten seconds." She heard Pomfrey say.

"Dear Madam, will you at least allow me to give Hermione this? I have every reason to believe it will help Professor Granger in her- ah, her affliction."

There was a quiet little moment, and Hermione frowned. What on earth was happening over there? What was he showing Poppy?

When Madam Pomfrey spoke, her voice was very gentle. "It's a bowl of grapes, Tiberius."

"Indeed. According to Muggle tradition, they're a panacea, you see. My research shows that Muggles think they can cure maladies of any kind. I can't say I see much truth in it, but I suppose one must try. No stone left unturned, and all that. Madam, I would not disturb you if it was not of the utmost importance. Professor Granger must eat these grapes."

She heard Poppy sigh. It wasn't a sad sound, more… indulgent.

"Alright, Tiberius. You have fifteen minutes."

A moment later, Tiberius flicked her curtain open and let himself in. The polished Ravenclaw was looking very proud of himself. He was, indeed, holding a wooden bowl filled with grapes.

After a heartfelt thanks, Hermione sat them down in her lap and started tucking in.

Even if he'd somewhat misunderstood the concept of grapes as a gift, she was genuinely touched by the gesture. So much so that she didn't really mind when she noticed that he was looking downwards and to the left, rather than directly at her.

Poor Tiberius. He still couldn't stand seeing people in pain. Still, he'd come. He'd tried his best.

"Professor Granger! What has happened to you? Have you seen Lucius? The poor fellow's out in the corridor. He wouldn't say a word to me. Do you suppose he's unwell?"

"He's totally fine, Tiberius." Hermione explained. "He's probably just sulking. Madame Pomfrey threw him out of the Infirmary. As for me, I was duelling."

Tiberius' eyes widened in interest, and then his wandering eye caught sight of Krum.

"I say," Tiberius exclaimed, "Is that young fellow quite alright? He looks as if he's been sat on by a dragon."

"Oh, Krum will be fine. I threw a storm at him." This startled Tiberius so much that he finally looked directly at her, so she clarified, "Just a little one." She pinched her thumb and forefinger together.

"Oh dear." Tiberius said, looking over to Krum again. "That must have been.. Well, I daresay it would have been quite grueling."

"Trust me, Tiberius, he'll be fine. It would take more than a hurricane to do him any real damage. Pomfrey says it's worse than it looks."

This was not a lie. Technically, Pomfrey had said that. She'd also been known to use those exact words to people who'd had their bones broken. Pomfrey had a different definition of 'seriously injured' than most people. A witch in her field often did.

"Oh well, if Madam Pomfrey thinks so- but wait just a moment, it almost entirely slipped my mind-!"

Tiberius dug into his robes and brought out several books. The smallest was practically no more than a pamphlet. The largest was as thick as her hand was long.

"I thought you could use something to read while you recover. In case the grapes weren't entirely effective."

She browsed through the books. Charms books mostly, though there were a couple of magical history books. In the midst of them all was a single sheet of paper on which Tiberius had scrawled down a few arithmantic problems. Exactly the sort of thing she'd need to keep her mind occupied while she recovered.

Hermione squealed in delight. "Oh Tiberius, you're a lifesaver."

Minerva didn't even say anything. She had a way of communicating without words. She did so now as she took in the extent of Hermione's injuries, then Viktor's, with a sour cast to her mouth and an eyebrow raised in condemnation.

"I can explain." Hermione said. In her mind's eye, she was fifteen again, standing in front of Albus Dumbledore, trying to make justifications for something that Harry and Ron had done.

The Headmistress said, "Please do."

Hermione looked over at Krum for support. The world-class Seeker, Triwizard competitor and expert fighter was currently pretending to be asleep. Right, then. She was on her own.

The students asked me to fight him, so I did.

I was enjoying myself a bit too much and we both got carried away, but at least no-one died?

I hadn't gone there with the intention of fighting him, it just sort of happened?

None of it really painted her in a flattering light, so Hermione said nothing.

Minerva saw that no explanation was forthcoming, and shook her head. "Professor Granger, this is a sad day. The best wizarding duel in years, or so I hear, and I was not there to see it?"

"Headmistress?"

"I'm trying not to feel left out, since I've been told it was a spur of the moment decision, but even so. If you're going to fight Bulgarian prodigies, Hermione, I expect at least a day's notice."

Oh, thank God. "Yes, Headmistress."

McGonagall turned to leave. "Hermione, dear?"

"Yes, Headmistress?"

"Win a little more conclusively next time, won't you? So long as you are a Professor at this school, I expect no less. We have our pride to think about."

Hermione grinned. "Yes, Headmistress."

Hermione was just getting ready to put aside her book and go to sleep when she noticed something very strange.

There was a little owl at the end of her bed.

This was peculiar for a variety of reasons. The first of them being that owls were, by order of Madam Pomfrey, absolutely not welcome in the Infirmary. The only thing the Infirmary witch hated more than her patients being disturbed was the particular kind of mess that owls made. The second was that Hermione hadn't expected an owl at all, particularly at this time of night.

Mostly, though, it was strange because Hermione hadn't noticed the owl come in, and she certainly hadn't noticed anything landing on her bed.

For a moment, Hermione could only stare in confusion. The owl gave her a long slow blink of its dark, inhuman eyes.

The bird was predominantly silver-grey, though ticked at regular intervals with brown feathers. It had no ear tufts and curved, wicked looking claws. The bird looked extremely well put together. Hermione found herself oddly reminded of Tiberius' raven.

Attached to its leg was a scroll of parchment and a parcel. Hermione took both, and the bird fluffed itself as though proud it had delivered its message.

Hermione recognized Lucius' handwriting instantly.

Hermione,

In my concern for you, I have made a very foolish mistake. I have angered Poppy. She will not allow me anywhere near the Infirmary. Minerva will not intervene on my behalf. I have resorted, therefore, to underhanded tactics.

Her name is Hera. She is a pretty thing, but not to be underestimated. I reserve her for missions of the greatest delicacy. She is the stealthiest bird I have ever met, and conveniently smaller than most of her breed.

She is also ferocious. You will notice I have attached a parcel. In it are a few sheets of parchment, a quill and inkpot and a sealed box. Ignore the rest for now, dearest, and focus on the box. Inside it are Hera's treats, which I would urge you to give to her as swiftly as possible.

Hermione blinked and looked up, to find that Lucius' bird, Hera, was giving her a hard, unblinking stare. She unwrapped the little parcel, found the silver box and, after a moment's hesitation, offered a grisly morsel to the bird. The bird gave her a frankly unimpressed look, and Hermione gave her the whole thing. The bird shredded the meat apart in economic, brutal motions, and Hermione was suddenly very glad that Lucius had thought ahead.

She turned her attention back to the letter.

Tiberius assures me you are recovering. It is of small comfort to me. Hermione, I hope you are not angry with me. If I had known you were injured, I would never have agreed to duel you.

Do not worry for Crookshanks and Atlas. They are being taken care of. Grubbly-Plank adores them both. Neville cares for the Singing Tree. As it turns out, our enthusiastic friend has a fine voice. I think you will be happy when you hear the progress he has made with your little seedling. Has Poppy told you when you can expect a full recovery? I hope it will be soon and that you are not in very much pain.

I await your reply.

Yours,

Lucius

Hermione didn't feel the least bit tired, all of a sudden. She scratched out a reply and secured it to Hera's leg.

Lucius' letter and parcel she kept. She wouldn't risk the former getting wrinkled, so she folded it neatly and slipped it into the pocket of her coat from where it hung on the chair beside her.

Hera swooped in and out of the Infirmary on silent wings. She had a way of sticking to the shadows that was absolutely incredible to watch.

They talked all night, and Poppy was none the wiser.

Hermione had been in the Infirmary for two days and was feeling much better. She was only getting sprayed down once a day now. Her weeping scabs had faded to an itchy rash.

Krum had been good company. Hermione liked children, of course, but adult conversation went a long way. He'd offered to have the book he'd learned the corrosive hex from sent to her for, which she thought was really good of him. She was eager to give it a read and see exactly how it worked. When she'd asked, he'd conceded that the book was 'not the sort you'd teach at Hogwarts.' Dark magic, then.

His own healing was going well and Pomfrey had told him hours ago that he was free to leave, but he was drawing it out so she wouldn't be by herself. Pomfrey didn't usually tolerate hangers-on, but Krum had managed it somehow. The Seeker had a way with people, Hermione had noticed. He was immovable without being aggressive. It made him very hard to say no to.

Hermione was curious. "I've got to ask. Krum, you're a fantastic fighter. Why don't you go into Duelling? Eastern Europe has a team, don't they? I'm sure they'd take you."

"Hermione, I'm a Seeker. I'm a good duellist, but flying…" His eyes went out of focus for a moment, and he smiled wistfully. On his face, the expression was uncommonly serene. "It's who I am. What about you?"

Hermione frowned. "What about me? Oh, why don't I get into duelling professionally, you mean?" Krum nodded. "Well, for the opposite reason, I suppose. I think sometimes that fighting is who I am, but it's not who I want to be. So I became an academic instead."

Krum nodded as if that made sense.

She wasn't sure, sometimes, if the difference was as great as she liked to think. A lot of the spells she'd made could be used offensively, particularly by a creative person. It was enough for her, though. Enough for her to explore the things she was interested in without feeling guilty. Without hurting anyone.

Hermione didn't think she'd duel again. She didn't like what it brought out in her. There had been moments, particularly in her fight with Viktor, where she had gone too far.

Yet, she thought to herself, so did he. Perhaps that is simply the nature of duels.

Four days after her duel with Krum, Hermione took her first steps outside of the Infirmary. Hermione flung her hands out to her sides and did a little twirl for joy.

She didn't have so much as a scratch on her.

She'd gotten well and truly sick of bed rest after the first day. She was so happy to be up and about again, and seeing something that wasn't the inside of the Infirmary, that she felt better than she had before she'd been injured.

The fact that one of the first things she was seeing was her gorgeous boyfriend certainly helped.

Lucius' lips curled in a smile. "It would seem you are fully recovered. I am glad, Hermione. I thought she would never release you."

"I don't think she had a lot of choice, Lucius. I was starting to get nervous. No-one likes a nervous Charms witch. I was about to start animating the pillows…" They set off down the hallway, and a wonderful idea came to her. Excitedly, she said, "Lucius, let's go on a walk. Down to Hogsmeade? Or maybe to Neville and Hannah's. What do you think?"

Lucius said, "Hermione, it is a little late to be going on walks. It is almost dinner time. And you know we can't go to their house uninvited. It would be rude."

"I suppose so." Hermione agreed, but wasn't happy about it.

With a conspiratorial air, Lucius suggested, "I have an idea. Let us walk to the Great Hall together. Now, now, let me finish, Hermione. Poppy has told Minerva of your recovery. She has prepared a special dessert in your honour, as I understand."

Dessert?

All ideas of long walks and incredible scenery left her mind.

"What kind of dessert?" Hermione asked intently.

Lucius' forehead creased with effort as he tried to remember. "I believe… something called an 'ice cream cake'. And 'milkshakes'. I have never heard of such things in all my life. Why on earth would someone animate milk of all things, I have no idea."

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks for just a moment, before racing away at such a speed that even Lucius had a hard time keeping up.

"Come on, Lucius! If we don't hurry up, there won't be any left!"

"Hermione-! Slow down, it's only food-"

She fumbled for his hand and started dragging him in her wake. She was half his size, but she could be very strong when she wanted to, and his startled gasp only made her grin wider.

The hallways rang with their laughter. They reached the Great Hall to find that there was, indeed, plenty left.

Okay WHAT DID YOU THINK? Action scenes are one of the very hardest things for me to write so this chapter was hard, but I'm really really proud of it.

Thanks again to iheartloki, and I hope you enjoyed your duel, fellow mischief-maker!

I am really, really happy to introduce Hera to you all. I've left it vague, since Hermione isn't an ornithologist and wouldn't recognise this particular bird right away. Special brownie points to anyone who can guess what type of owl she is! I'll leave the answer in the end notes of next chapter anyway, with a special summary on each of our main character's animal companions so far! I know they're not exactly story-crucial, but I love them and it seems like you guys do too!

I just wanna give you guys a heads up; because this chapter was so long (13k or thereabouts, making it our longest chapter so far) and so challenging, I haven't been able to write a whole lot of the next chapter yet. Or the chapter after that. Next chapter is going to be more story focused than a lot of the chapters we've had thus far, so it needs to be perfect. Therefore, please don't be disappointed if the next few updates take longer than a fortnight. The result will be worth it.

Thanks very much for reading and I really hope to update soon! Have a beautiful day and stay safe everyone!