It was a couple of weeks before the dueling club was announced, and another week before the first session was to begin. In the meantime, we'd made several more trips down to visit the snake, feeding it, and practicing my Parseltongue.
I was apparently still terrible; according to Potter my accent was thick and I was barely intelligible. My vocabulary was limited to a few words. It didn't roll off my tongue naturally the way it did Potter. It felt like I was talking with a mouth full of rocks.
Speaking snake wasn't easy. It was almost like my mouth struggled not to speak it.
Was there other languages for all animal species?
Were there people who could speak to rats, or even worse to insects? I spent a couple of sleepless nights worrying about the possibility. An insect speaker would be able to learn things about me that I didn't want them to know.
The only thing that comforted me was the fact that Parseltongues were supposed to be rare. Insect speakers would undoubtedly be even rarer. Only the insects near Hogwarts would know anything about me, and the odds that the one of the students was one seemed unlikely.
Still, I'd been looking up Acromantulas; apparently, they were sentient, even though they were perfectly willing to eat other sentients. I might be able to learn insect from them, which could be useful.
After all, once insects left my range I knew nothing about them. If I was able to speak their tongue, I'd be able to spy on anyone anywhere. Of course, it was possible that insects didn't have enough of a mind to have a language; it surprised me that snakes did.
It wasn't only magical snakes either; Potter said he'd spoken to regular snakes in the past. There had been one at a zoo, and he'd spoken to garden snakes in his own yard while he was gardening.
Was there something special about snakes, or did wizards somehow grant temporary sentience to snakes when they were around them?
The alternative was disturbing.
What if all animals were sentient? The billions and trillions of insects that I had callously sent to their deaths during my career as Skitter, had they had internal lives, a sense of self?
Eventually I had concluded that it was likely just a property of wizards, or maybe snakes. The alternative was unthinkable. Were we supposed to be like some Buddhists, avoiding walking anywhere for fear of accidentally killing an ant?
Insects, at least the non-magical ones were non-sentient. I'd felt the difference with the Acromantula, and I was betting that I'd feel the difference with other sentient insects too.
"I hope there's a good turnout," Hermione said. "If not many people show up, it's likely they'll shut it down before it really gets started."
"I've got a good feeling about it," I said.
I'd listened in on the discussions between Travers and Flitwick; they'd assumed that the club would be worth continuing with a minimum of ten participants.
I could sense at least fifty people waiting in the great hall now. More were filtering in. Undoubtedly, we'd lose at least a third of that number later on, as people realized that it was hard work, or less fun than they thought, or simply that they didn't have time along with their other activities.
Still, there were a lot of familiar faces.
The Weasley twins, Potter, Neville, the younger Weasley, even Percy Weasley.
The muggleborns were overrepresented; I'd had Hermione and the others putting quiet words in ears about the situation in the greater word. They'd talked about the need to learn to defend yourself in a world that hated you.
At first they'd been awkward, but eventually they'd gotten smoother.
The thing that surprised me was just how aware of the situation the muggleborns turned out to be. Strangely, some of the pureblood and even halfblood members of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff seemed much more ignorant.
It made sense; the muggleborns were the most affected and so they'd paid the most attention.
There seemed to be a good mix of the years, too. I saw everything from first years to seventh years. Some of it was undoubtedly Flitwick's reputation as a duelist; a lot of people were wanting to see him in action.
As we stepped into the Great Hall, Hermione gasped at the numbers who had shown up. I tried not to look smug. Part of the reason so many people had shown up was because of our efforts at promoting it. I'd been afraid that some of the purebloods would have organized a boycott, but that hadn't happened.
There were even a few Slytherins in the group; most of them were half-bloods. Had they come to spy on the proceedings for the others, or were they here for their own improvement?
I could see heads turning as I entered the room.
There were a lot of knowing looks on faces; at Winslow I would have been worried about another Locker, but here I figured it was something else. Everyone had to know that I would show up to something like this; it was almost inevitable.
I suspected that almost as many people were curious to see how I did as Flitwick.
"Welcome, everyone," Flitwick said. "To the first meeting of the Inter-House Dueling club. We are open to other names, but for the moment the IDC is here to promote house unity as well as to improve the skills that every wizard should have, especially in these, dark days."
I was surprised that he even mentioned the situation outside. A lot of the professors liked to pretend that Hogwarts was an isolated island, and that things which happened outside didn't affect the students who were there. The fact that he was willing to admit it, even tangentially was an indicator of how bad things had gotten.
All of the students were quiet.
"We are supposed to teach the basics here," Flitwick continued, "But there is a difference between having a basic mastery of spells and being able to use them in the heat of battle."
Travers spoke up for the first time.
"Participation in this club will be considered extra credit for Defense against the Dark Arts," he said. "I can think of no better way to prepare for danger than to actually face another wizard wand to wand."
He'd proven to be a competent teacher over the past few months. He seemed to care that the children learned what they were supposed to learn, and he was good at getting the ideas across.
There were a lot of hints that he was prejudiced against muggleborns and muggles in general, but it didn't seem to affect his grading and he seemed to be generally fair. As long as he was able to set his prejudices aside when it counted, I was willing to annoy the occasional digs that he made.
I wasn't even sure he was always aware he was making them. It was as though he had a basic set of assumptions that he didn't question.
Still, he was competent as a teacher, and that was important right now.
"We will organize this club by grade level. The best three in any particular grade level will be allowed to participate in the next grade up."
I raised my hand.
"Yes Miss Hebert?" he asked.
"How far can we take that?" I asked. "Is it limited to a single grade level?"
He stared at me, considering, then said, "If a student is able to fight above their weight class, they will be allowed to advance until they can no longer continue to advance."
I nodded.
I saw looks from the people around me, but I ignored them. Asking the question had been risky; I suspected given my performance against the Weasleys that I might be able to score in the low third year level in a fight. There were aspects of luck to the whole thing, though, and it would be embarrassing if I found myself stuck in second year.
"We will begin with some basic combats to see where people rank," Flitwick said. "This will help us determine each student's strengths and weaknesses."
Quickly, they separated us out by year. Notably, they didn't separate us by house, something that I was pleased to see. The simmering anger between houses had lessened somewhat, but only because the professors had tamped down on incidents in the hallways hard.
Things like this that forced people to interact with each other might help to reduce that tension. It might even create an outlet for people who wanted to blast their enemies; if they were both in the club it would be a socially acceptable pressure valve.
I suspected that this was why the Headmaster and the others had decided that the club was a good idea. Keeping order in the school was very important to them, and if a little time investment here made their jobs easier elsewhere, then they would be all for it.
I watched as the first of the students lined up.
One of the reasons I'd wanted to start this club was to get a better grip on what the difference in skill levels were between different groups of wizards. Once I was able to compare my skills to others, I'd know just how much work I had to do.
"Non-lethal spells only," Flitwick said. "These are not duels to the death. No one is to be permanently injured or maimed."
He glanced at me and I frowned.
I hadn't maimed anyone in months; why was he looking at me?
"Not much is expected of first years," he said. "But that's not a reason to slack off. Watch what the ones who go before you do, and learn from them. Wizarding combat is all about strategy. There is a muggle game called rock paper scissors; it is one that wizarding children play as well. Wizarding combat is much like that; some spells work better against some defenses than others."
Travers spoke up.
"Wizarding combat is an unending arms race. A wizard will discover a new defense, one that is superior from whatever came before. Eventually, someone always comes up with a new attack to counter it. Some people think that is what has happened with the unforgivable; there is no defense against avadakedavra, but that does not mean there will never be."
Technically he was wrong.
There were defenses against the killing spell; mostly they involved the same sort of defense that were used against guns; keeping something solid between you and it, and keeping cover. Talented wizards like Dumbledore would move the environment around him to use as a defense; the rest of us had to learn to dodge.
The performance of the first few First years was terrible. Most of them barely seemed to know what they were doing, even with the few vaguely useful combat spells we'd been taught.
I was pleased to see that Hermione was easily able to overcome her opponent. So was Neville.
Potter didn't do quite as well, but he still easily outmatched his opponent. It was impressive because he hadn't been training all semester like the rest of us.
Finally, it was my turn.
I was facing Seamus Finnegan. He was a Gryffindor and a halfblood. I didn't know much about him except that he was always talking about quidditch.
There was a subtle look of apprehension on his face, one that he obviously tried to quell as he faced me. What did he think, that I was going to cut off his leg?
"Begin!" Flitwick shouted.
"Expelliarmus," I said, almost casually.
The boy's wand flew out of his hand before he could react. He scowled, but he didn't look too disappointed. In fact, he looked relieved.
I could hear the whispers around me about how fast I had reacted. I hadn't even cheated using bugs. Expelliarmus wasn't taught in our year either.
I'd had years of experience in fighting Capes. In those kinds of fights, being slow often meant being dead, unless you were lucky enough to be a brute. Even then, depending on your toughness would eventually get you in trouble. Eventually you would fight someone who was a lot stronger, or whose special attack sidestepped your defenses. If that didn't happen, then you'd end up fighting Leviathan, and shortly after that you were dead.
The first lesson you learned as a cape was that you dodged or you were dead. It was as much a game of rock paper scissors as wizarding combat, unless you were facing a known combatant, and even then, every Cape tended to hold something back.
Sometimes it was a little used power. Sometimes it was a strategy, or a technique. Some would pretend to have limitations they didn't actually have, all to lure an opponent into being off guard in an important moment.
So me being fast wasn't unexpected, even without cheating. I'd been working on my speed with the Weasleys too.
Stepping aside quickly, I carefully kept my features impassive.
While I was hoping to get an accurate gauge of my classmate's skills, I didn't want them to be accurate in fighting me.
We quickly went through the first rounds; that was followed by a second round in which the winners fought, and then a third.
I easily defeated my opponents.
Everyone in our group, Hermione, Millie, Tracey and Neville as well as Potter were the only ones who were left.
Potter beat Millie. Hermione beat Neville. I easily beat Tracey.
That meant that the three of us were all moving on to fight the second years.
These fights were more interesting. The first year students hadn't really had many spells that could be used for fighting, and so some of them had almost stood around like they didn't know what to do.
Second year students, though, had access to two spells that were useful; expelliarmus and flipendo.
This had the virtue of being more visually interesting. Seeing wands fly through the air was fun, and occasionally seeing an entire student fly was even more fun.
Despite this, they were slow, painfully slow. I had a feeling that most of them had never faced another student in combat their entire lives, other than occasional scuffs in the hallways. Maybe even not then; most of these students were probably the ones who would have been bullied and probably had never lifted their wands in anger.
I and the other members of the study group on the other hand had been practicing for months. Even the Weasleys had gotten noticeably faster.
While the first round had been randomly assigned, likely because the professors didn't have an accurate gauge of people's skill levels, the second round students seemed to be more evenly matched.
Potter lost the second round, even though he gave it a good try. Unlike most of the others he at least managed to dodge, but he didn't have the offensive spells yet to make a good show of it. He had the speed and natural reflexes though, and I guessed that he'd be very good as a duelist once he had the basic training.
Hermione won her first round.
I barely moved when I faced my opponent, stepping aside as they tried to use flipendo on me. My opponent was a pureblood, and I had assumed they would try the more humiliating option against me. It was a mistake, because that was a spell that they'd learned more recently, which meant he was slower with it.
Losing her wand in the second round, Hermione looked frustrated.
Travers had put her against a particularly strong opponent, though, one of the few second years who was known for fighting in the school halls. Even so, the fight wasn't ended immediately, and I thought she had done rather well. It was just bad luck that the other fellow was a little faster.
My second round was against the strongest second year.
Against him, I actually had to dodge.
Still, I'd been habitually fighting against third years; I'd graduated from fighting against one of them to trying to fight against two. I hadn't been doing well at that at all, not unless I cheated with my bugs, and I wasn't willing to do that for multiple reasons.
Still, learning to fight multiple opponents was going to be necessary. Death Eaters weren't going to fight you like opponents in martial arts movies where they lined up to fight one at a time.
I planned to teach my people to gang up on enemies too; basic tactics for groups in battles were something I planned to pound into their heads, at least once I could get them to respect my opinions.
Still, I was moving onto third year, and I suspected that moving past that was going to be difficult. Fourth years had access to spells that the Weasleys were only now trying to master. Still, I'd proven that I was able to fight well above my weight class.
The fights from now on would be much more interesting. It was only a matter of time before I lost, but I intended to do the best that I could.
Hopefully the fighting would help us all get better, which was going to be important in the days to come.
Although the fight against Voldemort was going fairly well, the reports of cells being found and destroyed were getting fewer and fewer. They were learning and adapting.
In a way, the battle between the Ministry and the Death Eaters was just as much of a game of rock paper scissors as individual battles were.
I was moving to the third round and I could hold my head high.