Riddle didn't bow, he just tilted forwards. Qué Cabrón.

"Rise."

Dodge, defend, attack? Stun, bind—

"Position."

Protego, Aguamenti, Glacio, Ferrum—

"Begin!"

Riddle struck first—firing red straight at her, she barely manages to move aside, casting a shield before summoning water all over the floor. He looked down as the water turned ice, and in the moment Andrea jumped! And as she landed—glided across the room with blades on her feet.

"Expelliarmus! Silencio! Stupefy!" she yelled one after the other—light bouncing off Riddle's shield.

As it cleared, she saw a scowl on his face as he struggled to stand still, "Incendio!" He shouted, but her momentum on ice made her faster.

He melted the ice beneath him only, and with a barrage of spells came raining down on her. All non-verbal. Fucking showoff. They kept coming as her pace went faster.

"Avis!" Out of her wand a flock of black birds swarmed his head. It didn't last long—

"Confringo!" He hissed, slicing his wand through the air as the birds turned into black wisps. "Serpensortia!"

Snakes burst out and slid across the icy floor chasing her. Jump, jump, jump! She jumped a triple axel and landing it perfectly with confidence in her veins—the snakes frozen in ice as she and Riddle met eyes.

'You're not the only one who can show off' her eyes said with a manic grin. "Deprimo! Fumos!"

The ground beneath him shook and sunk, he fell as he aimlessly shot spells at the fast-moving figure lost at the formed fog. Then he shot at the iced floor—shattering as it turned back to stone, hearing Andrea stumbling across the room, before getting up and vanishing the blades on her feet.

Riddle wasted no time, "Diffindo!"

Mierda—Where did his dramatics go? Shit—move!

She barely made it with a cut on her brow.

"Flipendo!" She shot back, missing—Fuck's sake!

He grinned, "Flipendo Duo!"

"Flipendo Trio!"

She made herself bend back as Riddle flew and hit the wall with his back. She cringed as she heard bones cracked. He fell to the floor—one of the ice shards cut his lip and brow. Okay, she's ending this.

When the dust cleared he raised his wand as she bolted towards the boy with his wand aiming at hers before letting her hand go of her wand and catching it with the other—seconds before his disarming charm hit an empty hand—she shoved her wand at his neck. She ignored the uncomfortable feeling of his wand on her stomach.

Neither moved, only the heavy breaths and pants, they held a still unwavering glare.

Then there was a cough.

"Riddle, Velásquez," called out Professor Merrythought. The two turned their heads and saw the students encircled around them. And one petrified student—Andrea's sure that was Riddle's fault.

"As entertaining your duel was, I suggest you two go to the infirmary," she drawled, making sure they know they were the only ones injured—surprisingly.

"Mind getting off me?" Riddle asked, hiding a scowl.

Andrea didn't say anything and merely stood back up, cracking and rolling her neck. The two headed for the exit, ignoring the murmur of the students behind them.

Riddle was heavily bruised and limping. Andrea was full of cuts and abrasions on her arms and legs, one particularly on her shoulder that was deep enough and didn't stop bleeding. Yeah, she needs to go.

The halls were almost empty as the two staggered across it. It wasn't like before when there were other students. It just seemed like that Velásquez was tired.

They made it to the infirmary and Madame Rhodes ushered the two inside and told them to sit down. She was grabbing a few potions and bandages and organizing the place in general.

"I'm impressed," Tom praised, "Where did you learn to duel?"

Velásquez gave a sideways glance, probably considering whether or not she should answer. "Rome," was her simple reply.

She…wasn't lying. "I thought you were from Spain," Tom stated.

"I am," she managed to gruff with Madame Rhodes healing her cuts.

When Tom didn't answer, it was clear that Velásquez would have to elaborate on that. "My uncle was from Italy. He was a duelist."

"Not your first time dueling is it?" he asked, seeming light and chipper.

She twitched, "No."

They met eyes as he saw memories of a young girl no older than five watch the shimmering rocky coasts of Rome reminiscent of the sandy beaches of Valencia, of vineyards and locked doors—

Velásquez looked away.

Curious.

It was now his turn for Madame Rhodes to coddle with bruise balms and the occasional episkey of the old lady's wand.

Velásquez stood and observed herself in the mirror, clearly bothered by the slit on her brow—a slit that Tom gave, it made a corner of his lips rise ever-so-slightly. She scoffed and headed out, Tom's gaze lingering, knowing that she knows he's watching.

Once Madame Rhodes was done he stood up and brushed the dust and dirt off of him. He looked at himself in the mirror and was satisfied with the clean cut appearance he got himself back to. Tom made his way out when he was greeted by three of his followers.

How…considerate of them to visit.

"Where did Velásquez go?" Tom asked, glancing around.

"The blonde Ravenclaw girl took her somewhere," answered the rather nonchalant Orion Black.

Abraxas Malfoy not-so-subtly elbowed him, "Delacroix took her to the library, is there anything you need from her?"

Tom thought for a moment, "No. But keep an eye on her."

"Is she important?" Black asked with no sense of poise or cautious tone.

Malfoy scowled, "Obviously, she—"

"She beat you in a duel," stated the often-quiet Edmond Lestrange.

Black and Malfoy stared at Lestrange as if a second face was stuck behind his head. Tom usually doesn't tolerate insubordination, but Lestrange's tone wasn't disrespectful or mocking, it was just false.

"As far as duels go, she's competent." Tom breaks the silence and uneasiness among them. "She's also hiding something. I trust that you'll find it?"

His smile was so wide and welcoming and threatening all the same. Subtly lowering the temperature in the area, so that they know he's not joking around. Though, when was he ever?

"Yes, sir."

For the first time in a while, the Ministry's Department of International Affairs is flooded with foreign guests and officials. One such was Chairman Maria Velásquez, who is not with the other foreign officials but with the Britain Ministry.

She shook her head at the thought of it, for now, the middle-aged woman found herself weaving through a crowd of wizards and witches alike when she found the Minister at her desk.

"Minister Fawley," she greeted, clearly not amused with his irregular visits to her office.

The Minister turned to her after clearly meddling with her desk, "Ah, Chairman Velásquez. To which do I owe pleasure?"

She rose a brow, "You're in my office, sir."

"Ah of course, well you see—I need a favor," he states, not even having any sort of shame or pride in his voice.

Maria deduced that what his favor is, is likely to be irrelevant and useless, and clearly will not benefit the Wizarding World of Britain. Because Ministers are figureheads that may have 'power' given by those in actual power.

"Your father, the late and honorable Auror, Edward Stone once set out in an expedition all over Europe and came back with…five children, am I correct?" He questioned.

"Yes sir."

"You are the oldest out of those children, correct?" he asked, trying to seem sophisticated as if Maria didn't already know what he was here for.

"Yes sir."

His face said to go on, as if he wanted her to elaborate on that.

"As you may know I was born and raised in Spain before getting adopted to Edward Stone, I joined him and met my other siblings," she elaborated, losing patience.

He stops, "And what about your other siblings?"

"My brother Ivan Sokolovsky is from Russia, he studies the Dark Arts. My sister Julia La Maupin is from France, she is the Herbology Professor at Beauxbatons. My other sister, Anaztaja Curie from Poland, is the owner of an apothecary. And lastly my younger brother Antony Carbonelle is a duelist from Italy," she breathes out. "Is that what you wanted, sir?"

"Quite so Chairman, thank you for your time," says the Minister before leaving.

He wanted foreign connections, and who else but the Spanish woman with adopted siblings all over Europe?

Maria Velásquez manages to fall down a cushioned seat, sank down in a slouch and gave one deep heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. She misses it when she was young and had nothing to worry about.

In the deep dungeons of Hogwarts is the Slytherin Common Room, currently occupied by elitist Purebloods Andrea often avoided. Thankfully, she is more-or-less in good terms with them with her mother being in the Ministry and whatnot. Currently, she is in what's called a 'social battle', though it may like just a bunch of kids lounging around the common room, it's a battle for dominance and power through sharp words to elevate yourself.

It's a game Andrea didn't want to participate in. Although there are no sides, because if you contradict one of their opinions with no one powerful enough to back you up, you're dead.

Andrea might as well be dead because today's topic is muggles! What else?

"…in fact, muggles and mudbloods are, compared to us, far more likely to be poor, illiterate, on welfare, or in jail; they are far more likely to have illegitimate children, be addicted to drugs, or have other infectious diseases," said one Abraxas Malfoy, his statements was just…so eerily familiar and wrong at the same time.

Nonetheless, Andrea kept her face neutral while others seem to nod in agreement.

Orion Black leaned back, eyes closed and arms crossed. "By no definition of international competitiveness can the presence of these populations be anything but a disadvantage."

They then turned to her, as she had been silent this whole time, why don't they look at Lestrange instead?

These kids are at the point in their life where they transition from children to adults, and such try and mimic the adult society. Can Andrea blame them?

When she didn't say anything, "What about you, Andrea? What's your opinion the Ministry's stance?" asked one eager Druella Rosier.

Okay, game face. "In comparison to Spain, there is a large schism—You're either on one side, or you're on the other, nothing in between. Since its government is an autocratic republic, majority wins the vote. And it's mostly the case of 49 to 51," Andrea explained, not stating her solid opinion because that would give them ammunition, won't it? Besides, she's lying through her teeth—she's talking about muggle Spain. Well, not like there's any difference now, is there?

It's best to simply state observations. She continued, "Here, however, from what I gathered, it's at 70 to 30, or at least 80 to 20. There is no point in debating or fighting since you are already the majority—"

"Majority to mudbloods yes," Rosier cuts off. "It's more on the case of the Ministry's insistence on considering them a part of the Wizarding World. Not only are they a hazard to society—their barbaric culture is simply not fit!"

That doesn't justify segregating them—but surprisingly, it was Walburga Black who spoke.

"They're still humans you know, and isn't it much better to introduce our culture to theirs and civilize them? Think of all the untapped opportunities!"

Malfoy scoffed, "You only say that because you pity them."

Walburga Black made a mock-offense face and ranted off and laughed but it seemed to drown out in Andrea's mind.

She looked at these people, no older than 17, already deciding what's morally right and just. And soon they will inherit their parent's influence and power. And soon they will continue their dynasty built on those same beliefs.

They're just kids. And that's frightening.

A/N:

mierda - shit. chapter title comes from the infamous my chemical romance song. if you've noticed the hamilton reference, congrats!

also, the shit malfoy and orion were talking about was pulled straight from a republican magazine, word for word, i just replaced 'hispanics and blacks' with 'muggles and mudbloods' and 'whites' as 'us and purebloods', where else would i get reference on textbook racism?