AN: Some comments have asked why Hermione isn't a better fighter after 3 years of war and this is because the majority of that time was spent hiding and hunting horcruxes, not battling. Also, Flitwick is a master dueler.
Chapter 17: Whittling Away Spells and Days
Hermione's quill scratches across the parchment in a flurry. A smug smile pulls at her lips as she finishes. Glancing at the almost three feet of parchment, the smile fades. She reads over the list three times before dropping it on the table and pushing herself away.
"This is impossible," she says, diving her hands into her hair.
"The great Hermione Granger, admitting defeat? I never thought I'd see the day," Draco drawls with a smirk. She turns towards the boy, lounging on one of the sofas in the Room of Requirement and scowls.
"One hundred and thirty-one," she bites out. "One hundred and thirty-one. How am I supposed to have a repertoire limited to twenty-five spells?" Draco chuckles.
"I heard the Dark Lord only uses ten different spells when dueling, though he uses more than twice that many different spell combinations. Though I'm pretty sure they all end with the Killing Curse," he adds with a shrug.
"Very helpful," she deadpans.
"The best duelist use spell chains," Draco says. "You know, a series of spells used in quick concession that works well together."
"I know what a spell chain is," she snaps. "But every spell in the chain counts towards my limited 25." He rolls his eyes.
"Let me see." Hermione hands him the list. "Alphabetical?" he murmurs.
"Of course. Though I left out spell that I couldn't use in a duel."
"I see why Alohomora is missing."
"I actually thought about maybe using it with a container locked with a spell of some sort inside and then using Alohomora to open it once the target was within range. But I figured that was more of a trap than a duel, so I disregarded it," she tells him. Draco shakes his head, but doesn't comment as he continues reading.
"Incendio, Lacarnum Inflamarae, and the Scorching Spell are the same. They produce fire," Draco says.
"Yes, but the method of control is different. The scorching spell is basicly a whip of flames. The Lacarnum Inflamarae is a ball of fire and Incendio is more like a blowtorch," she explains.
"I don't know what a blowtorch is, but you do not need three spells for creating fire."
"They are useful in different circumstances. Incendio can not be used as precisely as the scorching spell and the scorching spell can not be used to disable many targets at once which you can do with Incendio," she insists.
"Hermione," he says slowly, "you do not have room for three spells that can perform the same function. Strike that, four spells. Firestorm? When would you need that?"
"Against inferi." Draco sighs.
"This is impossible if you are unwilling to cut spells from the list. Of course there is one specific spell that would be perfect for each situation. But this is not about perfect spells. Perfect spells will cost you your life. This is about 25 spells that will keep you alive and a defeat the majority of opponent." She sighs and nods her head. A smirk takes over her features when she looks at him again.
"Majority of opponents? Don't you think I could beat anyone?" He rolls his eyes.
"Don't go getting cocky now, Granger. I believe there is already enough ego in your little band of heroes to go around."
"Well I hope we'll be able to find room for yours when you move in. I don't know what you would do without it," she jabs and turns back to the spells. Draco shakes his head, but doesn't respond. And Hermione's got a list to dwindle down.
Luna skips down the hall, twirling occasionally. She stops suddenly before Harry and Hermione, who were taking a walk through the castle and chatting in one of the rare moments where they weren't incredibly busy. Luna smiles lightly and holds out a velvet pouch to Harry. As he takes it, glass vials clink inside.
"For you," Luna says. Harry pulls out one glass vial with a clear liquid that swirls with a tint of green. "Basilisk venom," she offers. "You needed that right?" Hermione's mouth drops open.
"Erm...thanks," Harry says, but blushes slightly when he met her gaze.
"Where did you get it, Luna?" Hermione asks, attempting to stay casual.
"The chamber of secrets, of course." Harry looks shocked now as well.
"How? I mean how did you get in?" Harry asks. Luna's smile doesn't waver.
"I hissed at it like Hermione had planned, though you never made it down there, did you?" Luna says, her voice still airy.
"No, I didn't," the older witch mumbles.
"Hissed?" Harry looks back and forth between the girls.
"Yes," Luna smiles, "like you do in your sleep." Harry turns reds. "Anyways," she continues, "I've got to go speak with a whachamig." She dances off down the corridor, oblivious of the awkwardness she left behind.
"Basilisk venom, huh?" Harry comments, placing the vial back in the pouch with the rest.
"How could she know?" Hermione blurts out. Harry turns to his friend, but she keeps looking at where Luna had disappeared.
"Know?"
"That we needed the venom. That I planned to go down and get it, but the last battle broke out so fast. That…It hasn't happened. How could…"
"Maybe she remembers," Harry offers. "Like Draco and you do?" She shakes her head.
"She can't."
"Why?" he presses.
"Because she died," Hermione says softly, turning back to her friend. Harry stumbles back until he finds a wall and slides down to sit on the floor.
"Died?" She sits beside him.
"A lot of people died, Harry," she whispers, taking his hand. "Nearly everyone, actually. But they aren't now, and we will do everything we can to keep it that way." He returns her smile. Harry tucks the pouch away in his cloak and helps Hermione to her feet.
"So Luna, huh?" she asks with a wink. Harry chuckles.
"I honestly don't know," he answers.
"But you like her." He blushes slight.
"Yeah. I mean, there is just something about her. She different like she...she has these looks and...I don't know."
"'She always had that about her, that look of otherness, of eyes that see things much too far, and of thoughts that wander off the edge of the world,'" she quotes to him.
"Exactly," he replies. Hermione chews her lip.
"Perhaps she does," she mutters to herself.
"Interesting, very interesting choices, Miss Granger," Flitwick says while looking over the witch's list of spells. Hermione beams at the praise. The difficulty of the task only making her satisfaction grow. "I will be interested to see how you use these in a duel. Mr. Weasley, have you thought about what I told you?" Flitwick asks, turning to Ron. He looks away sheepishly.
"Some," he mutters. "But I'm not sure I understand."
"You enjoy chess, do you not?"
"Yeah."
"Well are you the best chess player alive at this time?" Flitwick continues.
"I'm better than this lot," Ron smiles.
"Have you ever seen a pawn turn the tides?" Ron shakes his head. "Then you probably haven't seen the best either. It's a very subtle move. But rather, has any one of significantly lesser skill or strategy ever beaten you?" Ron blushes.
"Yeah," he mutters.
"Why?" Ron looks at his feet, but responds anyways.
"I wasn't watching their bishop. They'd never bothered with that piece before."
"You knew you were better at the game so you were paying less attention to what the other player was doing," Flitwick says. "You could not imagine yourself losing so you were unprepared." Ron nods without looking up. "That is what I am speaking about. Seemingly insignificant people and spells can be your downfall if you write them off as from the beginning. Perhaps you may win, but that will not always be the case."
It was a stray spell, in the final battle, that put down Bill Weasley, Hermione remembers. She doesn't know who the spell was shot at or if it is dodged or reflected. But as he fell to his knees, the smile disappears. His opponent had already fallen against his skill and power. Bill seems happy for a moment, perhaps a bit hopeful that they may win. And then it hits, hard into his back. And he's coughing blood. His organs are spewing from his mouth onto the ground in pieces.
Fleur rushes to his side, missing the spells shot at her in her dash by mere luck. She doesn't take heed of the rubble falling around her. Bill's body is convulsing and she drops down beside him. She cries out, pleading for him to live, though her voice is lost amidst the rest of the sounds of battle. But he is gone. She lowers his head to the ground gently. Her lips touch his forehead.
When she rises, hot fury extends from her body in waves. She transforms into her veela form, all claws and wings and anger. She shreds one death eater before she's brought down. Her body reverts back to her human form and she heavies her last breath. That beautiful face is covered in sweat and dirt with tear tracks and empty eyes. Hermione turns away, fights on. They can be mourned after the Light wins.
"Mr. Potter," Flitwick says, bringing Hermione back to the present. "What came of your observations?"
"There seems to be a million hiding places within just the main Hogwarts halls," Harry says. Flitwick smiles.
"That there are."
"There are some many ambush points as well. I am almost surprised that there aren't more fights breaking out. It would be relatively easy to corner a person," Harry continues.
'Like I was,' Hermione thinks suddenly. The memory of her attack on Voldemort's behest comes unbidden to her mind and she pushes the thought away. She'll deal with that once this war is won, along with all the people who died that she never mourned-who are, now of course, alive once more.
"Was there anything else you noticed?" Flitwick presses on with a smile.
"I was trying to do as you asked and think about where to go to defend in each place I walked. While some of the more crowded halls presented less chances of being a surprise attack, it also presented more possible casualties. On the other hand, empty area left a lot more room for being outnumbered and cornered."
"Any conclusions?"
"Ambushes are beastly?" Flitwick chuckles.
"Yes they are," he agrees. "But keep watching. Always. The more you try to dissect an area and watch people, the more you will see. Now shall we see if this has improved your dueling? Same setup as before, one on one's and then three on one."
Harry starts once more. Hermione can see a couple of errors that he wouldn't make in three years. There are places Flitwick could have taken him out fast, but doesn't for the sake of learning. Flitwick grins when Harry recognizes the trap a second before it is sprung and moves out of the way. It is still only another few moments before Harry is unconscious, but it's progress.
Flitwick starts out more aggressive with Ron than before. He is surprised at the change of tactics. He immediately goes to the defensive, his only option. When the tide begins to turn, Ron seems wary, which is progress in and of itself. When Flitwick goes back on the attack, and misstep places Ron in front of a stunner.
'Seventeen,' Hermione thinks. Seventeen is the number of different spells she counted Flitwick using. It's her turn now.
Gray smoke covers the whole area. Smoke screen? That is rarely used in duels, more used for escape. Hermione couches to the ground and move to the side, not wanting to be a sitting duck in the same place. She casts a shield, waiting for a spell to hit. The shield drains and weakens, but no spell comes. She drop it, but still there is nothing but smoke to see. Nothing to hear either.
"Finite Incantatem," she whispers, canceling the smoke screen. The gray dissipates, only to be cut by a flash of blue heading her way. She dodges to the side, ending on her stomach. She throws up another hestily shield up as she rolls to her feet.
Flitwick is closer than she expects and his spell shatters her shield.
"Herbifors," Hermione yells, her wand pointing at the professor. With a flick of his wand it is redirected to the ground to the left of his feet. Small purple roses burst from the ground. A small smirk plays on her lips. She casts the same spell a few times, each time reflected to the ground, not far from his feet. She knows he is indulging her slightly to see where she's going with this, but she needs the practice.
"Herbivicus," she say, pointing at the scattered purple roses. With a blast of green light, full grown rose bushes replace them, five feet tall with thorns. Hermione moves to the right, as Flitwick cuts through the bushes. She banish the twigs, thorns and flowers liberated by his efforts back at him.
A wave of his wand and they are returning towards her at a greater speed. They hit Hermione's shield and fall to the ground. Before she can cast another spell or even think, everything goes black.
Flitwick offers the young girl his hand after reviving her and he helps her stand.
"Now that is what I would expect of a witch at the top of her class," he smiles. The witch returns it. "As for homework, Misters Potter and Weasley, please continue on with what we were discussing. Miss Granger, please consider the applications of the spells you have chosen and how best to combine them."
The students nod and thank him before leaving the Room of Requirements.