September 1991

A couple of weeks later after asking around with both students and teachers Harry felt like he had learnt the basics of the grading system for lessons. Apparently final grades hinged totally on end of year exams, which could be practical, theoretical, or both, depending on the subject. He was thus free to treat the entire year of homework essays and the practical tests in class as a test run to refine his achievement of the desired grades. How delightful! Hermione, who was an over-achiever if ever he'd met one, heard he was looking for advice and gave him plenty of tips on how to get an Outstanding, which she had gleaned from senior students who were prefects, including Percy Weasley, Ron's brother. He made notes on all of it, though no doubt she would be shocked that he was going to carefully ignore almost all of it - DADA and Herbology being the only exceptions.

He needed DADA for self-protection if there were crazy wizards and dangerous animals around, and wanted every chance to practice his spells for that to the best of his ability. And he was pretty sure Aunt Petunia wouldn't mind him getting a good grade in Herbology as it would be consistent with a love of gardening and the class needed no spell use whatsoever as far as he could tell. If she didn't mind him getting an EE in the subject, he'd take it up to an O next year. He also didn't want to hurt Neville's grade or his plants – they often paired up.

He asked Professor Sprout after class one day, just to be sure. Apparently they did learn some pruning and pest control charms and other handy practical gardening spells at NEWT level. Mostly, however, what made it a magical subject was that magical plants needed special conditions to grow; they wouldn't grow in a Muggle area without extensive aid. Magical plants needed specially enhanced soil or fertilizer (often made from things like dragon or unicorn dung, or composted magical plants). They also needed to absorb ambient magic, which could either come from being grown in a particular location with a strong magical field, or by exposure to the auras of wizards, witches, or magical creatures that came near it. Even ordinary plants were altered by such conditions – oak trees grown in magical areas were better for wand-making, for example. But magical plants had to have those conditions to grow at all. She agreed that Muggles would theoretically be able to grow magical plants if they had the right supplies and were in a good location, however. Harry was satisfied - Aunt Petunia was right.

Flying lessons were rubbish. Malfoy proved he was a total prat, taking Neville's Remembrall while looking at Harry almost the whole time he spewed insults about Neville – he was clearly doing it to try and irritate Harry for some reason. Harry seized the opportunity to try and get himself kicked out of Hogwarts for disobeying Madam Hooch, but it turned out it was just a big bluff. It was a dumb idea anyway – he should've known they'd make him stay and leaving early would bring the risk that his and his family's minds might get erased. He got punished by being put on a Quidditch team, instead. What a crazy waste of time that would be. He'd never enjoyed organised sport and didn't see that this was likely to be any different. At least flying on a broomstick wasn't as hard as he'd expected. Ron was amazed and impressed by his news.

Harry didn't appreciate Ron volunteering him to fight a Wizard's Duel with Malfoy. He did like having three whole friends, but Ron was definitely his least favourite. Neville still wasn't back from the hospital wing at dinner time, so he and Hermione stopped by to check on him (Ron said to say "get well" from him too).

"Thank you for coming by," Neville said gratefully. "It was a bad break," he explained, "and Madam Pomfrey says there's a lot of bone splinters everywhere. She's dosed me up with something special plus some pain potions, and cast some charms to make the splinters all go back where they should. I'm in here for a few more hours yet."

Harry thought it sounded fascinating. "Only a few hours? That's amazing, Neville! If you had to rely on normal medicine, you'd still have a broken arm for maybe two months. And there might be surgery needed if there were bits of bone everywhere." Neville shuddered when Harry explained what surgery meant.

"Guess what?" said Hermione. "Malfoy challenged Harry to a wizard's duel, and he accepted." She told Neville all about it, chattering a mile a minute.

"Technically, I didn't accept," Harry grumbled. "Ron did it for me. I didn't even know what a wizard's duel was."

"Are you feuding with the Malfoys now?" asked Neville.

"No? I don't think so?" said Harry.

"That sounds very formal," said Hermione.

"Well, if neither of you officially declared a feud, you're not feuding. I don't know if Draco could call feud for his family anyway, since he's not Head of his family. But you could, Harry," explained Neville. "Anyway, feuds normally start off with a lot of arguments and duels and backstabbing. Sometimes literally. Then you often end up with a proper feud when a Head declares one. You know, like the Weasleys and the Malfoys."

"They're feuding?" asked Hermione.

"He never said," added Harry, "but it explains a lot."

"Anyway, it's too late to back out of the duel - even if you didn't accept it you didn't refuse it. Whoever backs out of a duel loses face."

Hermione worried over losing points due to breaking curfew with a midnight duel. "Well, it certainly wasn't thoughtful of Draco to pick midnight," conceded Neville. "You could request an adjournment to a later date or time. He might say no anyway, even though that would be churlish. You really should've negotiated at the time of agreeing to a duel."

"I didn't agree, no-one ever listens to me," whined Harry.

"We're listening, Harry," soothed Neville. "It's just that it's a bit too late to fix it now, honestly. Oh! And Harry, remember it's terribly bad form to resort to fisticuffs. A blade is acceptable, but no brawling."

"Fisticuffs," giggled Hermione. Neville blushed.

Madam Pomfrey shooed them out shortly after that so her patient could rest.

Up in the dorm later, Harry worried to Ron that Draco might resort to knifing him if his spells didn't work. Ron attempted to reassure Harry that the Malfoys preferred swords. Harry didn't find that at all reassuring. He supposed at least a sword would be hard to hide under a robe.

All his worry about the duel turned out to be pointless in the end. Accompanied by Ron, Neville, and a curious but nagging Hermione, Harry went to meet Malfoy but only narrowly escaped running into the torture-loving Filch, instead. And Peeves, to boot! A crazy sprint through dark corridors later, and they found themselves exactly where Harry least wanted to be – the forbidden third floor corridor, and facing a monstrous three-headed dog. Harry hated dogs. Monstrous dogs that would probably try and kill him were his new worst thing ever. As they scrambled frantically out of the room and slammed the door shut, Harry noted in passing what he'd failed to spot on the way in as Hermione rushed ahead of him in the darkness – a sign on the door saying "Forbidden! Keep Out!" Ron was intrigued by the mystery of it all – a monstrous dog guarding a trapdoor. But the rest of them just wanted to go to bed and forget all about it.

A/N: Merry Christmas, or Happy Holidays, as you choose! This chapter is going up a little early on Christmas Eve, so I don't need to worry about posting on Christmas Day to match my usual schedule (Tuesday and Friday morning updates).