" A note of caution: We can never achieve goals that envy sets for us. Looking at your friends and wishing that you had what they had is a waste of energy. Because we are all unique and what makes another happy may do the opposite for you. That's why advice is nice, but often disappointing when heeded."
Marcus Buckingham.
The return to Hogwarts came almost as a relief to Athelinda. She wasn't looking forward to her father returning to the front, but he told her he was leaving to negotiate more agreements with the other Atlantean clans to convince them to join the fight.
Athelinda knew he would be successful- but not completely.
This was Rhaegar's final year. And he was training hard- for NEWTs and for entering the clan's Armed forces.
She didn't know what to think.
This was her brother- her elder brother. He had always been there. And soon he would go- he would be brutalized and hardened, he would risk his life countless times.
And he would go onto glory- become a legend. She felt it in her blood and bones.
He would soar to the stars. She would remain in the Slytherin Dungeons assisting Slughorn with acquiring extra ingredients, buying him gifts of mead and sweets, disciplining irate bullies and confiscating dangerous objects, telling first-years where to go, and who the teachers were.
And she felt she could do other things. And everyone did know it. Yet, she was still stuck at Hogwarts.
She was optimistic though.
Ignoring Tom Riddle- his very existence annoyed her, now- Athelinda did her duties with grace, performed at classes and homework with unbelievable ease, and remained cheerful to boost the morale of the students and staff. No one dared to ask her about the war, even though they knew she was a member of Clan Volsung- their defenders.
It was just the way she wanted it.
Until the duelling began again.
Professor Merrythought came up again.
She took her place and her partner was a boy she didn't even know the name of. They marched out in front, whipped out their wands, bowed their heads and marched back.
"One," Professor Merrythought boomed. "Two," Athelinda was ready. She knew what to do.
"Three," he boomed again.
She cast a shield-charm, just in time to block the jet of light. Shooting jets of coloured light, water, sparks, smoke and so forth, the two duelled, and Athelinda managed to defeat her.
The next opponent was a boy reputed to be brainy. They clashed for a time, before Athelinda easily disarmed him and magically pinned him to the ground.
Another opponent came up. And then another. And another. It kept on going.
And Athelinda managed to defeat everyone in her year group.
Soon everyone was remarking on her, whispering and pointing. It looked as if she was gaining ground.
Soon Professor Merrythought proclaimed her the winner of her year. And she beamed at her and said, "Soon, my girl, you'll be duelling champion. Grindelwald will learn to fear you."
The burst of pride and joy rose up inside Athelinda like a fireworks display. It burst and showered all over, flooding her body with light. She glowed in and out.
"You'll do good in this world," Merrythought boomed. "Soon it won't be like this- and you'll have your part in its making."
Yes, Athelinda thought. I will.
With the exception of Rhaegar whom she had yet to beat, Athelinda became the best duellist.
She didn't neglect her studies though. But her parents were by now used to receiving soaring marks from their offspring, so they could only smile and shake their heads in pride as the marks came in.
She needed it- needed to be the best she could be, to gain a favourable review by everyone who had to listen, to respect, or even to fear her.
Rhaegar, Willamar and Athelinda never merely got an Achieved.
And no doubt Philomena won't either when she arrived.
At transfiguration; she was a master, at Divination; a mystery to behold, at History of Magic she was more correct than any text-book. At herbology, the plants grew madly and depended on her very touch as they did water. Charms she was brilliant and at potions she shone as bright as the greatest masters, if not better. She survived at Care of Magical Creatures and the animals soon loved her. Arithmancy- a subject she insisted on taking- was excelled at and improved by her. Soon the teachers were piling so much compliments onto her the whole school were gazing wide-eyed.
As she had always dreamed. It was a start.
Astrology was another thing she loved and she was looked upon as the brightest in her year. She sparkled like the stars themselves when complimented.
And Defence was another subject she was skilled at.
She was head-to-head with Rhaegar, her brother- in everything. But she could never afford to let him win.
She said to herself, she would never walk in anyone's shadow.
And that, no matter what, included her brother's.
Soon she would exceed him- and change the world. And she would win.
Despite how much she loved him.
Athelinda stood poised. She had reached the stages of the duelling competitions where people were starting to get permanently knocked out. From then onwards, only the winners could proceed.
Could they imagine what would happen if she won- and proceeded to win the International Dueller's Tournament? She would gain world-wide recognition- and would be seen as a major player in the fight against Grindelwald, if she decided to do so. And from there onwards, people would listen- to her ideas, her plans, her dreams of rebuilding a great society- the society they had once lost, over a thousand years ago, when Atlantis sunk into the waves.
She had designs, ideas, plans, everything to build and instruct others- and ways to fight Grindelwald and other dark witches and wizards. Witches and wizards that dabbled in dark magic were evil, there was no doubt of that, and if they could be taught things were different...
And if those that persisted learned to fear her...
At the third stage, Athelinda had long since beaten everyone in her year group. The champions from fifth, sixth, fourth and third year as well. The first and second years tired long ago. Tom Riddle was unable to compete due to suffering from a Potions accident which involved a faulty cauldron exploding and immersing him in its contents. He dropped out, with little choice.
Now she, Rhaegar, Willamar, and a few others were all that remained. Rhaegar sadly beat Willamar who smirked in reply. She won against Freddie Willard and knocked out three more. No one seemed to stand a chance. As she moved higher and higher, the competition became more intense and even more spectacular.
Soon she had beaten all of them- except for Rhaegar.
Rhaegar had beaten everyone else.
The finals were held in full view of the Headmaster and other staff members who were in attendance. Gryffindor and Slytherin banners hung everywhere. Everyone was excited- this was the highlight of the week. Without the Hogsmeade visits and Quidditch, there was little else they could look forward too.
Everyone asked Willamar who he wanted to win. He laughed and said both were his siblings; he loved them both and they loved each other. He may have felt guilty that Athelinda wanted to win as well, and he was pitting Rhaegar against their own sister. He had, after all suggested this.
And soon larger spaces were created, protective barriers were set up and the headmaster, teachers and other staff members, and students from all years were safely seated behind them, in the great hall (the armoury was deemed insufficient for such a colossal duel).
Rhaegar and Athelinda mounted the steps. A large, wide platform had been set up. They were only allowed a wand although they could use magic without it. And not all of the spells were verbal, so the students would be hard-pressed to find out what was going on- and it created an extra challenge for the opponent.
Brother and sister readied themselves. They shed their outer robes. Bets were made. Their wands weighed. Students listened in excitement. Their names were called out and each walked forwards. Rhaegar and his sister Athelinda, the best duellists the school could provide.
No one noticed that another audience member was quietly watching.
Willamar looked resigned.
They whipped out their wands. And at the command of Professor Merrythought, both siblings strode forwards, held their wands in front of their faces and prepared to bow.
"Good luck," Rhaegar whispered. He winked.
Athelinda gave him a smirk.
They bowed their heads, and both strode back to their original places.
"One," Professor Merrythought boomed.
"Two," he started again.
"Three!" the signal was given.
The two students duelled like they had never duelled before- in a way the teachers never imagined that students even could- in fact, many of them gasped and in awe said that they believed only the greatest witches and wizards were capable of such spellwork and combat. A great deal of attention was given to Professor Merrythought, but even he couldn't claim credit for it all. The Avantador siblings had been trained since they could stand firmly on two feet. With physical combat and 'accidental magic' (even children needed to defend themselves least the adults were down, their father said), and even wandless magic and non-verbal spells that were very difficult for even grown witches and wizards to do, the siblings- who had trained with each other many times anyway- were unstoppable.
Huge jets of light, shot out of their wands. Something which looked like a cross between lightning and fireworks. Smoke, mist, ice, fire- fiendfyre- which normally would have been banned but the siblings had learned to use a minor version- Aqua Eructo, both jumping around, spinning, shielding themselves, finding new things to throw at each other, creatively improvising and quickly planning, and strangely, not once did they utter the spell out loud. it was just as well, after all, with expert duellers, such as those in a tournament, non-verbal spells were the normality if not the requirement.
This was as much a test of physical combat as much as skill in defensive and attacking magic. So taking a great deal of their set time, the two dodged and threw spells at each other, using skilful, almost gymnastic-like in quality, manoeuvres which made everyone gasp in astonishment.
Rhaegar shot a jet of powerful lightning-like light. Athelinda defended herself with her own light, and threw fire at him. The safety rules had been bent for this one duelling match. She threw a smokescreen spell in front of herself to shield her from her brother's gaze while she threw another attacking spell in shots of light. But he saw and dodged that one, and she could hear someone clapping at her own ingenuity- sounded like Slughorn- and Rhaegar threw his own spells at her.
She spun and threw fiendfyre yet again. Fire had never been a preferred weapon of hers, but now she wanted the duel to end- Rhaegar would never admit defeat and neither would she. She had to finish this, once and for all.
She had to become the winner.
Then she could achieve her goals.
But Rhaegar saw, and Rhaegar knew.
He extinguished it and threw a water spell at her, it came in a strong jet, but she could easily cast a shield charm. But that was what he was hoping for.
She had occupied herself with casting that charm for the water, and Rhaegar, using her distraction, aimed another spell and threw colourful sparks above her head where she didn't expect them to be. Startling her, the shield dropped and Rhaegar cast a trip-jinx.
Athelinda gasped as she felt herself being pulled off the ground, off her feet even. She landed on the floor on her back and the shock was enough to send her wand flying. Just before it could clatter on the floor, Rhaegar cast another spell which pinned her to the ground and prevented her from using wandless magic. She was trapped.
The duel had been won.
The winner was Rhaegar.
There was a shocked silence. And then Rhaegar released the spell that bound her. Then all of a sudden cheers erupted throughout the Great Hall, everyone was whooping and clapping so hard, it was a miracle no hands fell off. The headmaster and the teachers themselves forgot their roles and cheered as loud and hard as the other students.
The duel was over.
Athelinda, stunned (not magically), got up. She staggered to her feet as her brother used magic to transport her wand to her. She caught it numbly, still in shock.
What in hell happened?
Students came pouring in as the barriers around the duellers were let down. Gasping, Athelinda pulled herself to her feet as students ran towards them- her brother and her.
The winner and the loser.
Even Dippet was laughing and clapping with the rest. Slughorn was clapping enthusiastically and booming, "Well done, Athelinda, m'girl!" He even jumped in mid-air.
No one had ever seen a duel in Hogwarts itself of its like. And no one would ever see it again.
And Athelinda had declared herself the loser. Because she didn't think to realise that her brother might have used her own defensive tactics to occupy and then proceeded to diverge her attention again before using something as simple as a trick-jinx, and pinning her to the ground.
Her brother had won, and she had lost. Now history would record her the loser.
And history would say she bowed down before her brother's greatness.
Never would she usher in a new age of Camelot. It was not her. It would never be her. Instead it would be Rhaegar, if it was anyone that ushered in the new age.
And the ground, she wished would open up and swallow her whole. She slowly rose.
Students were flocking around her and determined to touch her, to pat her, to shake her hand, even kiss her. But she didn't care. Didn't notice their worshipping smiles, or hear their over-awed compliments.
All her great ideas, all her dreams were ground up to dust by the person she loved. And she would vanish, vanish into nothing and see nothing fulfilled.
She was still stunned as everyone congratulated her brother, and complimented her. Their congratulations were for him; he'd won entry into the tourney. And he was sure to win.
Athelinda accepted her brother's embrace numbly and felt his kiss, like a blessing, on her head. It spoke of love. But it was not a blessing.
But something came as an even greater shock to her- why she was surprised in the first place, she didn't know. It wasn't as if Rhaegar had never beaten her before.
"Rhaegar!" she remembered hearing someone cry out joyfully. "I knew you'd win!"
Ice hit her so hard she almost fell again. Normally she would have realised it was nothing more than a compliment for her brother's performance, but this time, after putting up such a fight...
She thought she had come close. But was she really that inferior?
She remembered little of what came afterwards, only that she bathed and changed into fresh, clean robes. She didn't even try to listen to what other students were gushing to her about.
She walked slowly back to the Slytherin Dungeon. But she did not even have to get far before she, even in her numbed, shocked state, felt upon her.
The stare of eyes.
She was in the Entrance Hall, passing wandering aimlessly lost in her desolate, shocked, numb thoughts, before she returned to the Common Room and dormitory when she felt them. She turned her head over her shoulder.
There, next to a statue, stood a tall, dark-haired figure.
Tom Riddle watched her and it looked like his eyes would never leave.