In the first weeks of my fifth year, I couldn't shake the feeling that Caspian didn't belong here. He struggled with a wand, and the Latin incantations, as if this were all foreign to him. But he certainly wasn't any sort of muggle. He was confused by the contraptions I sometimes brought with me to class, and while he looked to the magic of the school with wonder, there was a sense of familiarity he seemed to have it— the one thing Tom Riddle didn't have, for all of his mastery of magic.

Tom didn't like him, either. While many students were charmed by Caspian del Rey, after their third Defense class, Tom Riddle developed the grudge that would change the course of history.

Professor Merrythought was an elderly woman, with hair that clung to the last threads of darkness that contrasted with her pale wrinkled face. The wrinkles were slashed by scars, from years of experience as an Auror during the 1920s.

After a duel with one of Grindelwald's followers had taken her leg, causing her to replace it with enchanted silver, Professor Merrythought returned to her old job— the position formerly occupied by Albus Dumbledore.

She paced the room, and drew her wand as we entered the classroom. Two circles appeared on the floor, aligned perfectly on opposite ends of the classroom. Around the circles was a box, dedicating a sort of "splash zone" for spells.

Of course, I knew exactly what I was looking at.

"Because of the war against Grindelwald, the Ministry wants all of you to be able to fight," Merrythought said. "You're all too soft. If any of you stumbled across one of the sorcerers following that maniac, you'd be left to beg for mercy. They'd eat you alive. We can't have that."

Her pale blue eyes scoured the room, as the last students straggled in before the bell. "Now, who will go first?"

Her eyes fell on a Slytherin girl with red hair, who was talking to another Slytherin witch with similar aristocratic features.

"Lucretia Black, you're up first."

The girl gave her bag to the girl next to her. "Hold these for me, will you, Walburga?"

The other girl stuck her nose up in the air as she accepted. "Anything for my dear cousin."

Lucretia stepped into one of the dueling rings, and pulled her wand from the elaborate bun with shimmery green ribbons trailing down her back from it. The wand itself had black ribbon wrapped around the handle.

I couldn't help but feel disgusted at the material waste. Silk was being rationed, yet somehow this girl had gotten her hands on enough to waste it on her wand.

"Susan Pevensie, you too."

I dropped my bag to the floor and cast my robes off. I tied my blazer around my waist as she stepped into the ring. I drew my wand, dropping into a combative stance. It was a muscle memory— but I didn't remember where I'd first learned it.

"Very good, Pevensie," Professor Merrythought said.

I kept my eyes focused on Lucretia.

"Ready girls? Bent knees, Black!"

Lucretia hesitantly did so. I almost felt bad about my thoughts against Lucretia, upon seeing the terrified expression on the witch's face.

"Three, two—"

"Confringo!" Lucretia cast before the signal, and the fight began.

I leaned out of the spell's path, and Professor Merrythought tutted.

"Stay in your ring, Pevensie!"

"Right," I muttered as I righted myself. "Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!" Lucretia twirled her wand with a flourish, and my spell rebounded off the shield, only to die once it cross the rectangular line on the floor. "Depulso!"

"Protego." With a jab, like it was a sword, I put up my shield just in time, and it was strong enough to make the Slytherin witch's curse fizzle out entirely. "Incendio!"

The bolt of fire was as deadly and as precise as an arrow. It spiraled straight into Lucretia, and she didn't even have time to put up a shield. She raised her arms to protect her face as the spell hit.

"Augmenti." I put out the fire as soon as it hit. There was only a tiny singe mark on Lucretia's robes as evidence of any duel at all.

"Very good, Pevensie." Professor Merrythought nodded. "Five points to Ravenclaw. Black, what went wrong there."

"I couldn't help myself," Lucretia protested. Her eyes looked haunted. "I remember the fire. . . The bombs. . ."

"Try not to hesitate again," Professor Merrythought ordered.

Lucretia slumped her shoulders. "Of course, Professor Merrythought."

"Right, next set of duelists!"

We left the ring, and I stopped Lucretia.

"Hey, don't feel too bad about what happened," I said. "You gave me a good go."

"Get away from her, Pevensie, you've already done enough damage," Walburga said as she grabbed Lucretia's shoulder.

I was left stammering after her, before retreating to join Phyllis and Olive.

"That was scary," Phyllis whispered as Professor Merrythought scanned the room. "It's like you were acting like it was a real fight."

"Isn't that what Professor Merrythought wants?" I untied my blazer as Tom Riddle joined one end, to the cheers and applause of nearly everyone, and shrugged it back on.

"Those aren't the right words," Phyllis said thoughtfully. "It's like you've been in a fight before, that's what I meant."

I nearly dropped my robes back on the floor, I was so startled. "No, no, I haven't ever been in one."

Yet, as I said it, the words felt wrong somehow, and I remembered my nightmares. Something to do with a witch in an icy wood, or some nights it was a forest full of men in armor like those of conquistadors, or of a castle at midnight, monsters all around.

"Caspian del Rey, I haven't had you before," Professor Merrythought said. "You have exactly one chance to impress me."

He nodded eagerly, and joined the ring. Well, after he stopped in front of me, and handed me his robes.

"I won't be needing these, perhaps you can hold onto them for me."

I avoided his coffee-eyed stare, and said nothing. Yet. . . I held onto them. I got the impression, with all the ceremony around giving me the robes, that he thought he was fighting for me. Like he was a knight, for the courtly love of a princess.

Not a princess.

A queen.

The idea felt familiar— felt right. I couldn't tell you why.

But that duel, the one that ensued. . . That was the first time any of us realized that Caspian del Rey was dangerous.

It started innocently enough— Tom threw a Disarming Charm out. But then Caspian retaliated, with non-verbal magic. And all of it looked wicked. He was getting into it, too, slowly wearing down Tom's defenses as the crackling of the spells got louder, and their colors grew closer to the light green that was forbidden.

He was waving his wand around like it was a sword, and with accuracy only comparable to mine.

"Merlin, he's going to kill him!" Myrtle wailed.

Caspian froze, and an emerald green spell came from over his shoulder. He barely dodged it, and Disarmed Tom in time, finishing it off with a silent Knockback Jinx.

Tom's spell was silent, so no one knew for sure. . . But I'm still certain that Tom Riddle tried to use the Killing Curse on the new student.

Not that anyone noticed. In fact, there was whispering, about how advanced Caspian del Rey was, and how frightening of an opponent he seemed to be.

And there was something off about Tom, after that. As Professor Merrythought scolded him it almost seemed as if he were barely holding it together. He was cold, I could see it in his eyes, even if he was charming to everyone's face. It frightened me.

I'd seen that face before. I didn't remember when— but Tom had been similar to me. He must've, for me to know.

And I realized, as Caspian stepped away from the ring, that I didn't remember why Tom and I had broken things off.

Before I could explore that train of thought, for better or for worse, Caspian approached me.

"Thank you, my lady." He gently plucked the robes from my grasp, and slipped them back on.

I didn't know what to say. So I said nothing at all.