Chapter Sixteen: Challenged to a Duel

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

"Do you think I'll really be able to be the Slytherin team Seeker next year?" Draco fretted.

"Well, this year's Seeker is graduating so the position is open," Harry replied. "Just make sure to practice that gripping and you'll be fine."

"My father will be thrilled if I make the team in second year," Draco continued. "Only the really talented ones get on in second year. It will be easier being a Seeker and not a Beater, Keeper, or even Chaser where size matters but it's still a really big thing."

Harry nodded agreeably. "Yeah, I agree."

"Oh, what about you?" Draco asked, suddenly seeming to realize that Harry had been even more impressive than he had in their little game. "Do you think you might want to try out for the team?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe. It's a big time commitment and I haven't played in any formal games yet."

"I can't believe you got a detention," Draco commiserated, shaking his head.

"And you got a recommendation to try out for the team," Harry said dryly.

"See, this is why it helps for the teacher to like you," Draco told him.

"Potter!" Zacharias Smith's voice echoed loudly behind them.

Harry sighed. "Yes?"

"I have finally come up with something that you absolutely can't ignore!" Zacharias said triumphantly. "Not if you have any honor, at any rate."

Ah, honor. That might complicate matters depending on how public it was. "I'm listening," he said calmly.

"I challenge you to a wizard's duel!" Zacharias agreed loudly.

"On what grounds?" Harry demanded. Really? A duel? He was being challenged to a freaking duel?

"You have not been treating me with the respect I deserve," Zacharias growled.

By which, Harry supposed he meant, that he had indeed been treating him with some actual respect and he didn't want that.

"Harry accepts, of course," Draco inserted himself into the conversation smoothly. "I'll be Harry's second. Who is yours?"

"I…I'll find somebody," Zacharias vowed.

"You do that," Draco said a little condescendingly. "We'll meet you and your second in the trophy room – that's always unlocked – at midnight."

Zacharias nodded solemnly. "It's a deal."

Harry waited until Zacharias had walked away before confronting Draco. "What was that about? I don't want to get out of bed in the middle of the night and risk getting in trouble over Zacharias Smith."

"I figured you didn't," Draco said, nodding.

"Then why did you tell him that we would?" Harry inquired, confused.

"Because if I didn't then he'd still be arguing and we can just tip Filch off anyway. Here, watch," Draco instructed, spotting Filch cleaning the floor not too far from them.

Filch heard them coming and glared up at them. "Stay back, I'm cleaning here."

"Excuse me, sir," Draco said, his tone far more polite than Harry would have expected to hear from him when addressing a caretaker. "We heard the most dreadful plot by Zacharias Smith to be out of bed and in the trophy room at midnight. Who knows what foul mischief he and his friends will get up to?"

"He will, will he?" Filch asked, his eye twitching. "Well, we'll just see about that. Run along, boys."

"What did I tell you?" Draco asked, smirking in self-satisfaction as they made their way down the hallway. "Zacharias will probably get detention and even if he doesn't he'll get a good scare getting chased by Filch."

"You're a horrible person, I hope you know that," Harry told him half-seriously.

Draco shrugged. "It's the price you pay for being able to deal with morons."

"Hey, did you hear what happened last night?" Neville inquired as he sat next to Harry at breakfast the next morning.

"Why are you even here?" Blaise inquired.

"Gryffindors know no fear," Neville responded promptly.

"It's part of their plot to take over the school and, through that, all of wizarding Britain," Theodore explained.

Neville squinted at him. "Hey, you weren't at the meetings." He turned back to Harry. "Anyway, did you?"

"I don't think so," Harry replied. "But then, I've only just got up. Listen, are you feeling okay?"

Neville looked surprised. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, that stunt you pulled in flying class, for one. You had to go to the Hospital Wing and I'm really starting to question your sanity for doing that," Harry told him.

Neville rolled his eyes. "I'm just as sane as anybody here."

"Not exactly a ringing endorsement," Harry muttered.

Neville snorted. "True. But not to worry, I've gotten that all out of my system."

"For now. You are a Gryffindor," Harry pointed out.

A smile spread across Neville's face. "You bet I am."

"And you realize that you let Draco goad you into doing something stupid, right?" Harry asked rhetorically.

Neville nodded anyway. " 'Let' being the key word here. He didn't force me to do it and he didn't trick me. I decided that I would rather risk a minor injury Madam Pomfrey could soon clear up than deal with him insisting I never did anything Gryffindor-ish."

"It could have killed you," Harry argued.

"Well, it didn't," Neville said dismissively.

Harry sighed internally. Clearly there was just something about the Gryffindor mindset that he was just not grasping. "What happened?" he asked instead.

"Zacharias Smith got caught with Ernie MacMillan in the trophy room at midnight," Neville revealed. "Although technically I guess that makes it 'this morning'."

"Really?" Harry said, feigning surprise. "Why would anyone be in the trophy room at midnight?"

"Well, they claimed that they were waiting for you and Draco to show up so that they could duel you but no one believes them. After all, we haven't really learned enough magic for a proper duel, you barely acknowledge that Zacharias exists, and no one actually believes that Draco would stick his neck out for anybody," Neville explained.

"So what do people think happened?" Harry asked curiously.

"Well, Zacharias and Ernie are a bit young but they're sort of convinced that they wanted some…alone time," Neville answered.

"Do you think that's true?" Harry asked innocently.

Neville laughed. "Please. Like that has anything to do with it."

"And that is how I managed to defeat the Wagga Wagga Werewolf," Gilderoy said proudly. Since his initial interview with Hagopian, he had learned that 'Wagga Wagga' was, in fact, a town in Australia that the werewolf in question was presumed to have originated from and had made sure to include that information by the time that the book had actually gone to print. "Any questions?"

Pansy Parkinson raised her hand. "How in the world have you managed to get so much done in such a relatively short time, Professor?"

"Luck and talent, Miss Parkinson," Gilderoy replied, beaming his trademark grin at her. "And not a little bit of hard work. It may be touted as a Hufflepuff value but I think we'll all find ourselves in need of putting a little effort in at some point in our lives. It's best to learn how to do that now and not have to learn as you go when you really need it."

Predictably, that seemed to interest the always-ambitious Slytherins.

"Class dismissed and the assignment is on the board," Gilderoy informed them. "Harry, if you could stay back for a moment?"

Harry nodded and waved his friends off.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked once they were alone.

Gilderoy shook his head. "We've talked about this. There's really no need to call me 'Professor' when we're alone. It's not like my adopting you is some big secret anyway." Well, it wasn't anymore, at least.

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Dad. It's just a little difficult getting into the habit of calling you 'Professor' in front of other people so I just want to make sure that I'm not going to slip up."

"If you do, it's understandable," Gilderoy assured him. "Again, everyone knows and you're hardly the first student to have a relationship with a professor outside of the classroom." He paused. "I think that might have come out wrong."

"Just a little," Harry agreed.

"I mean, I'm sure it's happened but that's a whole different story," Gilderoy continued. "Still, I've got to tell you, Harry, that no one is scrutinized for that kind of behavior quite as closely as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

Harry frowned. "Why is that? Are people saying something? That's ridiculous!"

"I know, I know," Gilderoy said appeasingly. "It's not me, per se, it's the position."

"What is it about the position that makes them more nervous than other positions?" Harry wondered. "I mean, I could see being wary of the potions professor because they can brew love potions and things but I can't really see Snape doing anything like that."

Gilderoy shuddered. "And now I can and need some brain bleach. Thank you for that."

"I try," Harry said modestly.

"To answer your question, it's because the Defense Against the Dark Arts job is only ever filled for a year. Having someone else each year means that there's a bigger chance that someone would be so morally bankrupt as to take advantage of students and that there's never any chance to build up the sort of trust working with people for years will give you," Gilderoy explained. "And naturally there's the fact that unless the teacher in question plans to leave then there has to be some reason that they don't come back for a second year and that kind of scandal will ensure they never come within a few hundred meters of a school ever again."

"Has there ever been a case of a teacher voluntarily leaving after one year?" Harry asked anxiously.

Gilderoy hesitated. "Well…there have usually been strong inducements not to return. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor I had as a second year had her mother suddenly die the last week of school and leave her a huge inheritance. Frankly, even if she hadn't no longer needed to teach, I doubt she would have wanted anything further to do with the institution she blamed for her mother's death."

"That's not good," Harry said flatly.

"I'll be fine," Gilderoy assured him. "I don't think that Professor Greengrass was planning on leaving after just one year."

"But what if-" Harry started to say.

"Harry, it's a chance that I'm willing to take," Gilderoy interrupted. "And you know me. I'm not really big on taking chances with my life. That's why I'm a novelist." Well, that was certainly one way of putting it. Even in the privacy of his own office and with someone who already knew all about how he really operated, he didn't feel comfortable discussing the fact that he hadn't actually done any of the things that he was famous for (besides adopting Harry but even the details of that were carefully fudged). It just seemed too big of a risk when he could just use euphemisms he knew that only people who already knew his secret would actually get.

Harry paused suddenly as if something occurred to him. "Wait, you said 'morally bankrupt'? Are you saying that there's something you find immoral and look down on?"

Gilderoy was surprised. That was a little worrying. "Of course! Just because I might have…unconventional methods in some areas doesn't mean that I don't have any morals at all. And let me tell you, Harry, that the best way to avoid getting caught doing something you shouldn't be doing is to not be stupid about it. Weigh the risk and the benefits. Sleeping with underage girls or even legal girls who are still your students will never be worth the risk. Ever."

Harry nodded. "Got it." It wouldn't be something he'd need to be concerned about for years but it was never too early to start trying to get him prepared for the rest of his life. "So what did you want to talk about? Or did you just want to catch up?"

"Partly it was just to catch up," Gilderoy replied. "After all, I haven't gotten to see you very much since the term started."

"I have class twice a week," Harry reminded him. "And I stop by whenever I have time."

"It's not the same," Gilderoy complained.

"Yeah," Harry said, shaking his head. "Hogwarts is definitely not anything like anything else I've ever experienced, ever, no matter how many times we moved around."

Gilderoy frowned. "Do you even like Hogwarts, Harry?"

Harry said nothing for a moment. "I don't know," he admitted. "It's weird. Sometimes in a good way, sometimes in an 'I wonder what Beauxbatons would be like' kind of way."

Gilderoy gasped in horror. "Not France!"

"I said I was only considering it!" Harry said, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. "And not even seriously considering it."

"Okay, good," Gilderoy said relieved. "Because while I haven't spent much time in this country since I adopted you, I am still very much a patriot."

"A patriot in the 'pretend to dislike other countries that have traditional rivalries with your own', right?" Harry asked, just to make sure.

"Who's pretending?" Gilderoy asked innocently. "So how are you adjusting? You've mostly managed to stay under the radar. Well, if you don't count the fact that you're Harry Potter so everyone wants to know everything about you, the flying incident, and your little…whatever it is with Snape."

"So not very much under the radar," Harry concluded.

"Oh, I don't know," Gilderoy said idly. "I went to school with your biological father, you know. I didn't really know him but even though he wasn't famous, he managed to get a lot more attention than you are. He was wonderfully talented…"

"Is this a 'good job keeping a low profile while you're young' kind of thing, a 'you're drawing too much attention to yourself' kind of thing, or a 'how is it that you're famous and you're only getting this much attention' kind of thing?" Harry wondered. "Or even a 'nice job getting so much attention at your age' kind of thing?"

Gilderoy shrugged. "It's really up to you, Harry. I can only advise you. How you manage your career and capitalize on your past successes is up to you. I can't always be there to tell you how to play it."

Harry nodded. "Okay then. I'm mostly just playing it by ear but it seems that even just not getting involved in outlandish things that will only draw attention to myself actually draws attention to myself."

Gilderoy grinned at him. "What can I say, Harry? The people love you. I have never been so proud." He snapped his fingers suddenly. "I just remembered…you asked me about whether Professors Quirrell or Snape gave you a headache at the opening feast, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. It was more of a scar-ache despite the fact that I don't think scars are supposed to hurt. It hasn't happened again but it still freaked me out. I don't think it was natural."

"I did some research and it turns out that it's probably Legilimency," Gilderoy told him. "It works best with eye contact but that is not always required with those that are truly skilled at it. The way to defend against it is Occlumency and I'll get you a book on studying that if you like. It might be a bit too advanced for you right now but there's nothing wrong with starting young."

"What's Legilimency?" Harry inquired.

"Basically, mind reading," Gilderoy explained. "The experts would tell you that it's far more complicated than that but for our purposes that's all you need to know."

"I can see Snape reading people's minds," Harry said slowly. "It might actually come in handy when you're a teacher. He was looking at me and Quirrell wasn't so it seems like it would be him. But…why did I only have the headache once?"

"Unless You-Know-Who himself were somehow involved and that hurt you then I don't know," Gilderoy admitted. "Although…you know that Snape was accused of being a follower of You-Know-Who?"

Harry blinked. "Wait, what?"

Gilderoy nodded. "It's true. Dumbledore explained that Snape was actually a spy for him so he didn't have to go to Azkaban. No one really likes to argue with Dumbledore, you see."

"He's as mind-reader and used to work for You-Know-Who while possibly being a spy for Dumbledore?" Harry asked incredulously. "Is there anything else you haven't told me about Snape that I might like to know? Did he father me or something?"

Gilderoy examined him critically. "Not that I know of and you certainly look too much like James Potter for me to believe that. Oh, but did I even mention that Snape and your mother used to be friends? They had a nasty falling out after their OWLS, everybody heard about it…"

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