Chapter XVII: Fight Club

Harry threw his broom into a hard dive. Luna screamed, for real this time, and dug her nails into his gut. He didn't mind the pain - preferred it even, as it took away any intimacy of the contact. The only real thought in his head for Luna was a hope that she wouldn't fall off; so long as there was some contact between them, he wasn't going to complain in the moment.

His focus was Hermione. The flashes of spellfire continued unabated. He couldn't make out any detail as his glasses were coated in mist be his reckless speed, but he was amazed at how well she was holding out against her attacker. Either that, or they were hexing her when she was down. More speed.

He drew close enough to finally see through the blur, and found Hermione was still on her feet, wand outstretched as she battled. Both witches - it was an older girl by the hair and height - stood stationary, and it seemed that Hermione had somehow gained the upper hand. She was lashing out with spells Harry couldn't identify, the wind drowning out her incantations, and the other witch was only shielding.

Realising he was coming in too fast Harry pulled the broomhead around, slamming it into a sliding stop. He dismounted at a run, staggering but keeping his footing through sheer refusal to go down; a soft 'oof' behind him suggested Luna was less fortunate. As he ran he fumbled for and drew his wand, for all the good it would do him.

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione yelled, swirling her wand. A scarlet shimmer lanced out towards the other witch, but with a casual flick she dispelled it.

"Very good," the witch said. "Now give it some."

Hermione isn't winning, she's being toyed with!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The next shimmer was more vibrant, but it gave its target no more trouble as it dispersed against a pale blue veil in the air. Harry raised his wand and, hoping to catch the assailant unawares from the side, cast the most aggressive spell he knew.

"Incendio!"

It was when his target turned at the sound, and as his meagre spit of fire raced toward her, that he finally recognised her. Patricia Stimpson's eyes widened in surprise and she barely flicked her wand in time to block the flame.

"Leave her alone!" he shouted, advancing on the girl. He was astounded that of all the people in the castle, the first to attack Hermione was the one who had thrown a spell in her defence, but there wasn't time to puzzle through that. He had her focus now, and needed to keep it for Hermione to have a chance to do something decisive. "Incendio!"

"What the fuck?" Patricia spat, cleaving his fire from the air. "Expelliarmus!"

Harry barely dodged the incoming spell, but in doing so he stumbled and dropped to one knee. Whatever she cast next, he would be entirely defenceless against it. It would be an excellent time for Hermione to make her move, except she wasn't casting anything. Her wand was raised and ready, but it was pointed at him.

"Hermione?"

"Harry?" she hissed.

"Expelliarmus."

Patricia's spell struck him square in the chest. His wand flew from his grip as he was knocked onto his back, laid out in the muddy grass and left coughing from the pain in his sternum.

"Harry!" Hermione cried in alarm.

"Chill, he's fine," Patricia said far too calmly. "I went easy on him."

Easy? That hurt like hell! And why are you sounding so unconcerned? This is a fight! Isn't it?

His view of the sky was then filled by two silhouetted heads of hair, peering over him. He blinked away the tears from his coughing fit and their faces became clear. Patricia had a victorious smirk bordering on amusement.

Hermione was livid.

"Harry, what the ever loving heck were you thinking?"

He groaned as he tried and failed to sit up.

"You could have really hurt her with that spell," she accused. "Why did you even cast it?"

"I was defending you!" he sputtered.

"Defending… Oh, Harry, you are such an idiot! You stupid, stupid… Argh!"

Hermione threw her hands up and stomped off in a wide circle. Patricia leant in closer, holding Harry's wand just out of arm's reach.

"If I give this back, you're not gonna hex me are you?" she asked, wary and a little vicious.

Harry shook his head. Seeing his wand - his wand - in someone else's possession, feeling the utter wrongness of it and the desperate itching thrum as it called to him, he would have agreed to almost anything to get it back. When she dropped it on his chest he sighed with relief; a short-lived relief, as Hermione returned.

"Do you boys ever stop and think about what you're doing? Ever? Do you not understand that your actions might have consequences, is that it? Or are you just so damn cock-sure of yourself, that whatever your spur of the moment decision making comes up with simply must be the correct thing to do?"

"She was attacking you," he explained, although it was only the shock talking. His rational mind knew exactly what was going on; it was just too embarrassed to speak up.

"We were sparring you imbecile! You know, training? As in, she was teaching me how to defend myself!"

Harry nodded, which was useless. He felt an utter prat, although... Didn't he deserve some credit for being so willing to jump to her defence?

"Well," Patricia interrupted, "fun as this has been, I didn't come here to be hexed in the back, so I reckon I've got other stuff to be doing."

"You mean… Are we still going to…?" Hermione asked desperately.

"Yeah, we're still on. You've got potential. But this one" - she jerked her hand at Harry, who flinched - "needs to learn how to not cast a spell before anyone teaches him something that might hurt someone. See ya around kiddos."

Harry rolled his head over to follow her as she left. A very muddy Luna skipped by to join her, waving to him cheerfully as she passed. He returned the wave half-heartedly, and couldn't help but smile at the sight of her messed up hair. It was far more interesting frizzy.

"Hem hem," Hermione coughed.

Cringing at the vehemence, Harry rolled back to face her. She was stood with her arms folded, tapping a foot which sent little splashes of muddy water flecking onto his face.

"Yes?" he nervously ventured.

"I am waiting for you to explain yourself. And I suggest that before you open your mouth, you do that thing you're so stubbornly allergic to: Think first."

"I thought you were in trouble-" he started.

"-assumed. You assumed I was in trouble," she cut in.

"OK, I assumed you were in trouble, and came to help. I don't get why you're angry about that?"

He really didn't. He thought what he had done was brave and valiant, despite being misguided. Isn't it meant to be the thought that counts?

"Two things I can think of right now, though I expect there will be plenty more when I've calmed down. One: I am not some pathetic damsel in distress. I do not need rescuing. I do not appreciate outdated, misogynistic ideals of chivalry, so save it for someone who does. And two: If you are going to insist on being helpful, get it right!"

"Why is… Miso-what? Hermione what did I do so wrong?"

"Ugh! It's not what you did, it's what you might have done! If you weren't so incompetent with that wand you could have seriously hurt Patricia."

Harry rankled at the word 'incompetent'. Those were the best incendios he'd ever cast, and for a firstie he felt they were pretty good.

"She's fine though," he argued.

Hermione rubbed her temples and sighed, "this time, Harry. This time she's fine. But I've seen what a reckless firstie with far better intentions than ability can do, and I will not let it happen again!"

Those last few words were thundered so loudly Harry heard them echo off the castle. His prideful retort died on his lips and his inner lion crawled away whimpering.

"Sorry," he murmured, closing his eyes as not to see the pained anger on her face. The memory of it burned on his eyelids.

"I swear, Harry James Potter, if it wasn't your birthday…"

She let the threat linger a moment, then a hand groped his chest, arm and finally hand. He didn't dare say a word about that.

"Now get up," she commanded, tugging him to his feet, "before your guests get the wrong idea and do something else stupid. You know I'm starting to think that blasted hat put me in Gryffindor just to keep the lot of you in check."

Said guests were returning to the ground, albeit a little slower than Harry had. Neville was first to land, having not strayed half as far as the others, but when his broom refused to dip low enough for him to dismount properly, instead keeping him on tiptoes, he became the last to arrive. Ginny came running in first.

"Oh Harry, are you alright?" she exclaimed, making to hug him. When he held out a hand she stopped and gave him a once over. "I was so worried when I saw that nasty bitch cursing you!"

"Language," Hermione snipped. "For your information: Harry is fine; expelliarmus is not a curse; and Patricia is most certainly not a bi- well, not a you know what." - Ginny gave her an incredulous look - "She was actually helping me to learn some defensive magic, until Harry came to the same incorrect conclusion as you and so rudely interrupted us."

"Well that's no excuse for cursing him!" Ginny argued.

"She charmed him, because he was trying to set her on fire."

Harry found something very interesting to look at on the ground by his feet.

"Since when do charms knock someone to the floor?" Ginny persisted.

"Funny you should mention that, because I've wondered about the classification of spells a lot; I mean, what really is the difference between a jinx and a hex and this isn't the time and you aren't interested are you?"

"Uh, not really," Ginny agreed.

With Hermione having taken the wind out of her own righteous sails, the three of them fell into an awkward silence that lasted until the twins' arrival several seconds later.

"Heads up!" one yelled as they came sweeping in from overhead to land squarely between Harry and Hermione, disregarding the fact that there wasn't room to do so. Harry jumped back just in time.

"Y'alright kiddos?"

"Ooh, look at those glum faces."

"Trouble in paradise methinks, Fred."

"Trouble for sure me-agrees, Fred."

"We're fine," Hermione snapped.

"Ooh, hear that George? She's fine."

"Enough about her looks brother, she's too young for any of that."

"More like too scary."

Hermione slapped the wrong twin on the arm for that remark.

"Ow! Scary indeed. So, why the long faces?"

"Yeah, what's put Harrikins here in the doghouse?"

"Knock it off," Ginny demanded.

The twins slowly turned their heads to face her, cocked to one side like curious dogs, then stuck out their tongues.

"Go on Harry, what'd you do?"

"I, uh…" Harry shifted uncomfortably under their piercing stares, feeling like all that was missing from the interrogation was a lamp pointed in his face. "I was trying to defend Hermione, except-"

"-except I don't need defending," Hermione hmphed. "Especially not from a friend."

"I said I'm sorry," Harry protested.

"Yes, well, find a way to prove it and I'll accept your apology."

"Whipped," a twin coughed, earning him his own smack from Hermione. This time it found the right target.

"Hey, since when are you friends with Stimpson?" the other asked, stepping aside to allow Lee to join the conversation.

"Since ten minutes ago, I believe."

"Cool; she's pretty alright," Lee said.

"And right pretty," the twins chorused.

"Really boys?" Hermione groaned.

"What? Just because you don't like the ladies, doesn't mean we can't appreciate them."

A thought struck Harry, and he voiced it before thinking.

"How'd you know that was Stimpson anyway? She left before you got here."

"Oh Harry."

"Harry, Harry, Harry."

"Sweet, innocent Harrikins."

"There are more ways to appreciate-"

"-recognise a woman than her face."

Harry looked at them blankly. He had a slight idea what they might be on about, but he didn't really get it - he wasn't old enough to have started noticing girls yet. Lee took one look at his perplexed face and chuckled.

"She's got a nice arse," he helpfully explained, making him the third member of the troublesome trio to receive a Hermione backhand. He didn't look regretful at all.

Neville finally made it over to them, still wrestling with his broom though he had at least managed to get off the thing; it was now doing its utmost to fly away, backwards, while he held it down. Ginny reached out and grabbed it from him, shooting him a frustrated look that Harry didn't feel he warranted. The broom stilled the moment she touched it, and when she threw it to the ground it stayed there. Neville eyed it warily a moment longer, then joined the circle they had formed with a sheepish grin.

"Hi guys. Hey, where's Luna?"

"Oh, she, uh… left," Harry answered.

He was conflicted about her leaving. Obviously he was disappointed that she had gone so early, but he was so overwhelmingly glad that she - that anyone, really- had shown up that he simply couldn't be upset about it. If it had been one of the others to walk away with nought but a wave goodbye he might still have been insulted, but it was Luna. And Luna was…

Well, Luna was Luna. You simply couldn't ascribe any sort of meaning to anything that girl did, except in the few moments her deeper troubles showed through. The last time that had happened was when she thought she was failing as a friend, so Harry reckoned he had some idea that she wasn't ditching him out of malice. Actually, by that logic she must not see her early exit as something Harry would take offense to, so he resolved not to, squashing the little pang that had been building quietly in a dark corner of his mind.

"Oh. That's weird. I'd have thought she'd stick around for cake."

Harry had to agree, that was weird. He glanced over at the table and immediately saw the answer to the puzzle; the plate of cupcakes, all neatly arranged in a ring, had three of its number conspicuously missing. Even if Hermione and Patricia had helped themselves to one each, which seemed most unlike the former, that left one unaccounted for with only one suspect.

'When did she find time to smuggle those away?' he wondered, before announcing his revelation.

"I think she found the cake just fine," he said, pointing it out, "unless you've suddenly grown a sweet tooth, Hermione?"

"Don't look at me; those things are terrible for your teeth, and I already haven't been keeping up with brushing like I should."

Fred? gasped theatrically, "Harrikins, have you been corrupting this poor dentist's daughter?"

"Hardly," she scoffed, "but over a bucket in an office isn't exactly the best place for proper dental hygiene."

Though it was a different sort of disapproval, Harry thought she sounded as mad about that as she had when he tried to charm Patricia. Whether that meant his transgression wasn't so bad, or she was an utter fanatic of dentistry, he wasn't sure.

"Wait… How do you know what my parents do?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, you mentioned it once last year," George? replied flippantly.

"And you remembered?"

"We always remember a good prank. And after looking up what a dentist is-"

"-we agreed that's one hell of a prank."

"Do they really drill teeth?"

"Yes, they do," Hermione huffed. "Although, honestly, it's not half as bad as people make it out to be."

Harry felt they were getting off track. He was about to say something when he remembered that the right track was talking about how he'd been an idiot and Hermione was mad at him, so he wisely held his tongue. Eventually the twins dragged the conversation completely away from what a pillock he had been, and although he was sure he hadn't heard the last of it, that did allow him to start enjoying his party again. By the time they had to go back inside even Hermione had a smile on her face.

Harry certainly did hear more on the matter; Hermione made sure of that. She only let up when, six days later, her next session with Patricia went well despite the rocky start. Harry didn't mind overly much, one because he could readily admit he deserved as bad as he was getting, and two because he spent the whole week playing with the birthday present Dumbledore had passed on.

It was a cloak - a massive one - and when he wore it his body became invisible. Not just that; Hermione had helped him to test it, and her point-me spell couldn't find him when he wore it, no matter how many times she insisted that wasn't how invisibility cloaks worked. But the best thing about it, for all its mystical brilliance, was that it had been his father's, and his father's before him. Harry Potter finally had something more than a scar to remember his parents by.

The first thing that managed to distract him from it was the announcement that Lockhart was forming a duelling club - open to all years. On the basis that it might be the only worthwhile learning experience their defence professor provided all year, Hermione convinced Harry that they should join.

A/N

Le bait, et le switche ;)

Sorry this one's a bit short, there just wasn't a better place to cut. Next will be longer.

Thanks to reviewers Kaflaful and FrostnIce