Interlude: Dueling Tournament, Stage 2
In the short time since the term had started, Hogwarts had been shaken into a frenzy over the sarcastic, incorrigible, insufferable, smartass known as Harry Potter who had casually plopped himself supinely onto a bed in the Infirmary.
"Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey began. Before she could continue with what she was going to say, she was interrupted abruptly.
"Madam Pomfrey," Harry said, nodding to her in greeting, "you are looking quite lovely, as always."
She bristled, pursing her lips irately. "Why are you here?"
"I'm here to see Neville and Ginny. Someone has to make sure the Healers didn't screw up the reversal."
"Don't you have classes?"
"This is for the greater good! Surely, you understand?" Harry sighed heavily, crossing his feet. "And actually, classes ended ten minutes ago." He tilted his head and grinned cockily at the matron.
"I see. So if you are here to check up on your friends, why are you in bed?" She asked, deadpanned.
"I'm injured." Harry explained. "You see, Hogwarts's chairs never agreed with my buttocks."
"That is not a valid injury. Get off my bed, Mr. Potter." She growled.
"Actually, a sore buttock could be a symptom of over a dozen magical ailments, most of which are fatal." Harry corrected. "So it is rather valid."
Pomfrey glowered at him. "Get off my bed, or I shall hex you!"
The threat, if anything, only managed to spur Harry onwards. "That would be in direct contradiction to your Oath, harming me, that is. And keep it down would you, there are people trying to rest here." Harry gestured to Neville and Ginny who lay unconscious on the beds to his right.
The Healer wisely chose to make a tactical withdrawal. Or maybe she just stormed out the room in frustration. Either way, as she left, she brushed past Hannah, who coincidentally entered as she left. She raised a brow at Harry, eyeing his position on the bed with curiosity."Do I want to know what that was about?"
"I don't know. Do you?" Harry asked, redirecting the question.
"I probably don't." She said, shaking her head. "I mean you,of all people, are involved after all."
Before Harry could retort, someone had bumped into Hannah, causing her to stumble forward. She spun on her heels and glared at the cause of her ungraceful incidence.
"Ah, Edward, did you bring what I asked?" Harry asked, recognizing his brother's smaller stature. Edward didn't answer vocally, but nodded with ardor. He tossed a package at Harry, who caught it with his free hand.
Hannah, her anger overcome by her curiosity, walked forward to get a closer look, before stopping suddenly in midstride. "What is that?"
"It's a book." Harry replied, tapping on the package with his wand to enlarge it. He turned the book in his hands curiously, brushing some dust off the front cove, before placing it on his bedside table. "I think I shall have some dinner first. Tinky!" He shouted.
A house elf appeared and gave a small bow to Harry. "Yes, Master Harry?"
"I think I'd like some pizza tonight, a Margherita, I think. Half a dozen should suffice." He said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. His eyes swept around the room critically.
"Aren't we hungry?" Hannah stated wryly. Harry remained silent at her rhetoric.
"Will Sir be needing anything else from Tinky?" Tinky asked.
"No, that will be all. Thank you, Tinky." The house elf performed a small bow before vanishing with a loud "pop".
Harry stopped twirling his wand abruptly, and sent a sharp look at Hannah...at least it seemed that way. "You know, Aurors, you can drop the Disillusionment Charms. I was the one who suggested to Headmaster Dumbledore for your presence here, after all."
Hannah jumped back, startled when a blue robed stranger suddenly materialize din front of her. Edward looked pretty rattled as well with the sudden appearance of not one, but eight Aurors around the room. "The gesture of dinner was kind of you, Mr. Potter." Hannah heard the one in front of her say.
"I can't very well have the people guarding my friends starve, can I? You'd do a pretty sucky job at protecting them if you were doubling over from hunger pains halfway into a fight." Harry retorted.
The aurors chuckled. "I am curious though, how did you notice our presence."
"First of all, people don't normally just stop in midstride. That immediately told me something was compelling her subconsciously. A little scan with my Mage Sight," Harry tapped his temple with his finger, "and your auras were in plain sight for me." He flashed a lazy grin at them then resumed his annoying habit of twirling his wand.
Before the auror could reply, Tinky had reappeared, balancing several platters of Italian food gracefully with one hand. Harry stood up and banished the bed before conjuring a table with an attached wooden bunch in its place, and watched with satisfaction as Tinky placed several platters on the middle of the table.
"Y-you just did conjuration!" Edward stuttered.
Harry shot an irritated look at him. "Thank you very much for stating the obvious." He replied dryly, sitting down and helping himself to a slice of pizza.
"That's at least Newt level." Hannah remarked, seemingly unaffected by his advanced display of magic. "Although, why didn't you just transfigure it?"
"It's unhygienic. Being a Hospital bed and all it's bound to have all sorts of germs." Harry felt his spine shudder without his conscious consent. "Now, all of you need to sit down, shut up, and eat. Auror," Harry stole a glance at the name tag which was clipped onto the upper left breast pocket of the Auror's robes, "Bishop was just about to tell us about Neville's condition."
"I was?" Bishop asked, amused and bemused at the same time.
"You will, if you want to eat dinner." Harry threatened, growling.
"So I will." The auror replied, holding his hands up in a non-threatening manner. When he noticed the accusatory glares his teammates were sending him for agreeing to reveal sensitive information, he shrugged nonchalantly. "The Chief Warlock already gave him clearance."
"I thought he'd see it my way." Harry said, smirking. "And Edward, stop gaping. You'll look less of an idiot that way." His brother glared at him in response, but obeyed nonetheless. "Now the report?"
"The Healers say that they should wake up by today. They should suffer no lasting damage, and the symptoms you recognized earlier should be gone. It is highly recommended though that they go through therapy in the event of possible psychological trauma."
"And what of Lockhart?"
"His trial will be held the day after your Dueling Tournament."
"So that would be the day after tomorrow, in simpler terms?"
"Yes, Dumbledore wants you at the trial to help him convict Lockhart."
"Good, I'd be happy to be the final nail in that idiot's coffin." Harry answered, a look of content gracing his face.
"Dumbledore said you'd say something like that." Bishop said, eyeing a slice of pizza.
The next day found Harry seated in the Great Hall, gaining attention by his oddly muggle apparel. Instead of the traditional battle robes, or even just robes for that matter, he chose to wore a tight fitting black and yellow single, with a menacing badger with its fangs bared in front, and the word "POTTER" embroidered at the back. He was also wearing matching shorts, and black rubber shoes completed the look.
"So...are you nervous?" Hannah asked.
"Not really." Harry replied calmly, observing his fellow finalists prepare.
"By the way, why are you wearing what seems to be Basketball attire?" Hannah asked curiously. "You're garnering an awful lot of attention."
"It allows me more flexibility and mobility." Harry answered. "Plus, I'm planning to market and trademark this."
Hannah stared at him incredulously. "You want to trademark the Hufflepuff Insignia?"
"Actually, I was planning on trademarking this style of attire. It would dominate on the Quidditch field."
"Won't players freeze to death on the Pitch wearing that? Especially at the altitudes they play?"
Harry shook his head at her condescendingly. "Oh ye of little faith. This thing is charmed to maintain optimum temperature, charmed against wear and tear, provides maximum mobility by being manipulating air resistance, plus, its got a cushioning charm to provide basic protection against bludgeoning force, similar to what standard Quidditch robes use today." Harry lectured.
"Did you practice that sale's pitch of yours?"
Harry gleamed at her. "Yes, I did." He said proudly.
"And there's nothing I can do to persuade you against doing this?"
"Probably not."
"Enjoy then."
Before they could continue their conversation, Dumbledore spoke up. "Before we begin, I'd like to introduce our guest judge for today. Mr. Jordan Meyers, Manager of our very own National Quidditch Team, the English Dragons!" There was a deafening roar of approval from the Quidditch fans in response. "And now, for the first round of our quarterfinals, Harry Potter of Hufflepuff against Marcus Flint!"
Harry stood from his place, but before he could take a step, he felt someone's hand latch on to his arm. He turned his head and was surprised to see Hannah. Her normally harsh expression softened. "Good luck, Harry."
He nodded his head in acknowledgement and continued to walk towards the stage. As he did, the air was filled with shouts of "Potter! Potter! Potter!" not only from his House, but from his fellow year mates as well.
As he stepped onto the stage, Flint gawked at him. "What the bloody hell are you wearing?"
Harry grinned and with his Sonorus amplified voice, he began narrating his sales pitch again, gaining the interest of everyone. By the end of it, Flint had a glazed look on his face and was so busy contemplating the idea's credibility that he barely heard the referee's shout of "Begin!" and the familiar red beam of light that sent him flying moment's later.
"That was anti-climatic." Harry muttered, vocalizing what everyone was thinking while the referee revived Flint.
The Slytherin shook his head and glared at Harry for his "cheap shot".
"Ready? Begin!" He heard the referee shout.
With a fervor that only those possessed with vengeance could understand, Flint began casting spells at Harry as soon as the match started. Harry barely managed to dodge the first few, before throwing up a shield to deflect the spells. With his second wand, Harry conjured a wooden table above Flint, and watched with grim satisfaction as it slammed into the boy, knocking Flint unconscious.
"Harry Potter moves up to the semifinals!" The referee announced. The Hufflepuffs went wild at the announcement. The Slytherins looked rather sullen, although they consoled themselves with the fact that they still had two members of their House in the game.
Harry walked back to his seat amid the jubilant badgers, occasionally getting a friendly pat in the back from his "fans".
With some interest, Harry directed his attention towards the next match. Alexander Zabini of Slytherin, the only undefeated finalist so far aside from Harry, was up against Archie Montague of Ravenclaw. Their fight was fierce and brutal, with not so nice curses flying almost immediately. After nearly twenty minutes of intense spell casting, the Montague managed to come out on top. The second round soon began and ended quickly after Zabini chose to try and steamroll his opponent early on. It worked, and within within a minute, Montague's shield collapsed. The third round proved to be the decisive one, as both tried to overwhelm the other quickly. In the end, Zabini proved to be the better duelist. However, Zabini looked completely stumped by the end of the match, and from what Harry could see, his core was drained by sixty-eight percent.
The next match was far less riveting, with Katie Bell easily losing against Darren Peregrine from Slytherin. That exacted cheers from the House of the Snake as they realized that they now had two of their own in the semifinals, meaning they had a fifty-fifty chance in winning.
The match between Oliver Wood and Cedric Diggory proved to be of some interest though, as for the first time, Harry saw them fight. Wood's barrage fire approach against Diggory's precision strike approach. By the time the dust had settled, Wood had managed to secure two wins allowing him to advance to the semifinals, proving that quantity could beat quality. This defeat, if anything, bought Harry far more support than ever, being the last hope Hufflepuff had of taking the gold.
The first match of the semifinals was between Zabini and Wood. With both of their styles based on overwhelming their opponent instead of surgical strikes, the one who would win would be the one who could get out the most spells in the shortest amount of time. Wood, while having more magic left, lost to Zabini, who was highly proficient in chain casting - the art of making the ending wand movements of one spell into the beginning of another. Combining it with silent spell casting, it allowed for him to unleash dozens of spell in a span of seconds. Being well versed in magical theory, Harry knew that Zabini had chosen to chain cast instead of foregoing wand movements - which was well within his capability - because it would require less magical energy to attain the same spell power. For good reason to, seeing as Zabini had less than fifteen percent of his magical energy by the time the match was over. This, of course, managed to rally Gryffindor House under Harry as well.
It also meant that Harry now had to go up against Peregrine. The moment the duel began, Harry had rushed up to the boy, closing half the distance before a single spell was in the air, thanks to his newly acquired mastery of self-implemented enhancement. With his clothes allowing for flexibility, Harry was easily able to dodge any spells that came his way with a series of acrobatic stunts. His actions seemed to stun Peregrine - and everyone else in the hall, for that matter - as maneuvers like somersaults, flips and jumps were a rare occurrence in duels, especially youth duels. It usually degenerated to flinging spells back and forth until one or the other was taken down. Such a...physical approach was highly irregular.
Harry took advantage of this , and once he was within striking distance, pummeled Peregrine mercilessly with his magically enhanced fists. And yes, while the Slytherin as taller, older and nominally stronger, he lacked the speed to deal with the situation. By the time Harry finished with a roundhouse kick to a rather sensitive area, Peregrine was in no shape to continue, and ceded the next match.
Which left Harry with almost all of his magical energy intact, while Alexander Zabini had barely enough energy to cast another dozen spells after two intense, magically taxing matches that drained over ninety percent of his core. Even without any tricks or fancy acrobatics, Harry could have won.
But who are we kidding? This is Harry. And he wouldn't be the same without doing something to spice things up.
Even years later, Alexander Zabini would always wonder if maybe he should have yielded. It certainly would have been a lot less painful.
With all the cards in his hand, Harry basically had a carte blanche to direct the duel's path. He chose to do something he hadn't done since he left his old dimension...using brute force. With impunity, he sent all manners of hexes and curses at the shield until it was totaled, but not before Zabini's core was drained.
The last match of the day was supposed to be between Peregrine and Wood. Seeing as one of the two was unable to compete, Wood won by default.
With the Dueling Tournament finally over, Dumbledore stood to address them all. That man loved his speeches, after all. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it is with great pride that I present to you the Youth Champion of the 1993 Edinburgh Dueling Tournament, Harry Potter!" Some students cheered avidly, while others clapped politely. But one thing was clear, Harry Potter had gained their respect.
After collecting his gold, and receiving a medal, Harry was joined by Alexander Zabini, who had taken a Pepper Up Potion just so he could make an appearance, and Oliver Wood, who received a silver and bronze medal respectively. "Gentlemen," Dumbledore spoke to them, "you have the honor to represent your district in the National Dueling Tournament that will begin on February. The prize of winning there will amount to two thousand galleons at least. From there, you could represent your nation at the European Youth Tournament. If any of you wish to enter, it would be mandatory to seek training under one of your professors, we have a tradition to uphold after all. As the finest institute of magical England, we have never once sent a delegation to the Youth Nationals that hasn't placed in the top three."
Zabini was the first to answer. "I would request to apprentice under Professor Snape."
"And I would want request to apprentice under Professor Flitwick, Headmaster." Wood said.
"And you, Mr. Potter?" Albus asked, the twinkle in his eye going into overdrive.
"I think I could learn a lot from you, Headmaster." Harry said, smiling at his soon to be mentor.
Dumbledore returned his smile. "That is acceptable to me, although we'd need to work out our schedules." He turned to face the crowd again, reactivating his Sonorus charm. "Ladies and Gentlemen, our representatives for the Nationals!"