Saturday at Noon, Harry was standing with Draco Malfoy in a closed off corridor leading to North Tower. They chose this hallway for its double bend (privacy) and of course, it was blocked off and forbidden.
Harry was supposed to be getting a formal lesson in Martial Magic but Draco was quickly losing his temper with how little Harry knew about the sport of Traditional Dueling. As a pureblood he felt like most of this should be common knowledge. Harry couldn't agree less, as there were a lot of subtleties and courtesies that needed honored. And these subtleties were constantly changing based on other factors, such as status of the duelers, occupation, or which country you were dueling in, or which part of the country you were dueling in.
For example, there were handicaps. It was considered rude for someone of higher status not to go easy on someone of a lower status or a woman. And it was still quite frowned upon depending what part of the country you were in not to let a witch win. The unspoken rule was this: get a really good devastating hex to save face, but ultimately let her win out of courtesy to the 'lesser-sex.' And if it was a death match, men who killed women (even with good reason) were generally shunned afterwards. To Harry, this made sense but wondered what Hermione thought of these 'go easy on girls' customs. According to history, if a terrible witch needed taken out, the opposed party's sister or another female relative would have to step in so she could duel to kill without shaming the family name.
Of course, all of this was thrown out the window in other parts of the UK where losing to a witch was considered very weak and shameful.
To get around these idiosyncrasies, the professional sport of Traditional Dueling was separated by gender, a winner in each, so each sex could be as ferocious as they liked. Harry could see why purebloods were needed for this: all of the stupid old-fashioned rules were still mostly observed in the sport and any deviation was considered 'very modern.'
After his initial spiel of customs, (including the 50 odd scenarios where you had to chuck those out the window,) Draco started going over basics of the actual match which Harry still managed to fail at. They practiced holding out their wands so the other can inspect it for signs of cheating (Harry didn't know what he was supposed to be looking for) the formal starting pose, paying respects, and then... the bow.
"No, you're doing it wrong- lower. No, not that low! Start over, do it again. Yes- that, sort of. Hold that, a solid second. No, don't look at me! Head has to be fully bent!"
"What in Dumbledore's Spotted Dick for Dinner are they teaching you at this school?" a very familiar voice called out to them.
"George!" Harry straightened. This intruder walked towards them confidently like he owned the castle, like he too had every right to be in an abandoned blocked off corridor.
"What are you doing here?" Draco soured.
"What are you doing, Whoopsy-Daisy Death Eater?"
Harry looked him up and down, drinking him in. "Wow, you're here! But what are you doing here?"
"Nooooo reason," George said suspiciously, looking up and away.
"How did you get past the wards?" Harry asked.
"…. I'm George," he said seriously like this was an obvious explanation.
"Oh, I guess that makes sense."
"Did you forget?"
"I, …yeah, I must have forgotten you're George," he laughed.
"And what are you doing with this one?" He pointed his wand tip at Draco and his crossed arms.
"He's president of the Dueling Club now. I'm vice president... I think. He's teaching me… courtesy, or something."
"The 'Conqueror of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' doesn't need courtesy. You can be rubbish now Harry, you've done your bit. Making a good go of it, I've heard."
"What are you actually doing here, disrupting the castle? Students are here to learn," Draco complained loudly.
"Galleons over brains, Malfoy. You choose your path, I'll choose mine. BUT HARRY! I hear that you've done the unthinkable."
"What …quit Quidditch?" George was probably disappointed in him.
"Noooooo…. Head. Of. HOUSE!" he built up, giving Harry the knowing look, tapping his temple with his finger. "Ve-ry immmm-PRESSIVE. Dumbledore would be proud, so is mum to be honest. I told her you were Head Boy, she believed it."
Draco barked a laugh.
"No, don't, please don't," Harry begged. "Don't lie to her"
"Harry, you are like a son to her, better even, as you're not related. Dare I say, she's more desperate to hang on to you now that you've dumped her daughter. She might think you'll dump the family next."
"Please no… you can't … don't…" Harry moaned.
"What's the matter Potter? No one's that desperate to be a Weasley."
"Fair Point Malfoy, I wouldn't mind marrying out myself… but still," he shrugged. "The cooking, we can't all rely on house-elves."
"George, don't," Harry implored.
"Why are you actually here?" Harry asked, wanting to change the subject.
"Big Quidditch game today!" He slapped his hands together, excited. "Came to watch Wood referee." He lowered his voice. "Heard you haven't been going to matches, why not?"
"Hurts." He didn't mean to say it so bluntly but he did. "I want to fly, but… I mean… Captain, and everything. Even now, I don't think I could do it. Too much pressure. Ginny's doing a great job though."
George made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. "Yeah, not enough to win the Cup. Heard she has a second year as a beater. Blimey. Slytherin may get it this year."
"They have something to prove," Draco said darkly.
"They have to prove they're NOT PRATS everyday! Well, Harry, it's been fun, but I have to find Peeves, see if he can get me into the Quidditch storage. Want to release a second Snitch into the game. It will be pan-de-monium..." He looked up to the sky, euphoric, envisioning it. "Then, I'm going to let myself be seen by Filch to give him a heart attack. After that, I'm going to drop off these order forms in the common room. What's the password, Harry?"
"Uhhh…" Harry opened his mouth, unsure whether or not to give it to him.
"Just joking Harry, I already know the password," and he walked off.
Draco stared in annoyed disbelief as Harry smiled, both of them stunned into silence as if they just saw another poltergeist.
The temptation was too great. Harry had to see the Quidditch match today. Draco resigned and went to go get ready too. Hermione seemed absolutely delighted Harry joined her as they walked down to the Quidditch pitch together. Seeing George again was brilliant- no awkward questions, just good fun. Harry even wore his best Gryffindor scarf to mark the occasion, though it was Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff today. The Sun was out, making the November weather feel much warmer than usual, and he felt good today for once.
Harry's mood quickly nosedived when they piled into the stands, seeing empty seats next to Ginny and Luna. She spotted him and Hermione together, narrowing her eyes.
"No, not that way, over there, yes, let's sit over there."
"No, Harry, those are terrible seats."
"Please, don't make me sit near Ginny."
"Since WHEN are you such a coward? You should have done it at the party like you said you were going to. You are acting like Ron in sixth year, honestly."
"I deserve that, but I still don't want to sit near her."
"Harry! Over here!" Neville called, sitting next to Dean, who was watching them look for a spot.
"Thanks Neville, we're coming!"
"Nice weather, isn't it?" Neville said, oblivious to the fifth and sixth year girls in the next row up eyeing him.
"Weather's beautiful, couldn't miss this one, heard this was going to be an interesting match," he said smiling, Hermione watching him hopefully like he finally turned a corner.
"Why?"
"Oh, just a feeling."
Not five minutes into the game the pandemonium started. Both seekers found a separate Snitch simultaneously, and were whizzing in and out to catch theirs, thinking they both got lucky and it was not spotted by the other. Wood, who seemed like an excellent referee, noticed something was wrong at once, but his whistle went missing and had to go flying after them to intervene. However, one of the two Snitches shot up into the air, and the Hufflepuff seeker shot up after it, going up and up and up until he was just a dot. This was confusing enough, but suddenly there were two extra Bludgers hitting players, and each chaser had a Quaffle in hand, scoring at their opposing goal posts, thinking they were both taking advantage of the confusion.
Madam Hooch rushed down from the stands, stole a broom from a beater lying motionless on the ground, and blasted off to stop the chaos.
Harry laughed and laughed and laughed. The stands roared with laughter too, the commentator mysteriously falling ill, throwing up in his booth and leaving for the hospital wing.
At the end of the game, both Seekers caught their snitch, four people were knocked off their brooms, and the score was a ridiculous 1470-1535. This game would go down as Hogwarts legend, the match being hailed as the most confusing, disorienting, disrupted, and hilarious game of all time. It was the talk of the school and no one knew who was responsible.
…Until the evening.
During dinner, an enraged Professor McGonagall personally dragged George through the rows of house tables to the castle doors by his remaining ear. But right in front of the door he twisted, pulling her into a bow and kissed her on the cheek, accidently knocking her hat off. Catcalls and jeers rang from every table.
"Come on now, there's a good Lad, yeh had yer fun..." Hagrid pulled him through the door and into the grounds, looking slightly worried at McGonagall's reddening face. And when McGonagall whipped out her wand to slam the doors shut… it flopped into a rubber chicken. The great hall exploded and the headmaster turned scarlet.
"How'd he get into the castle?" Neville asked, straining his head to see George getting kicked out.
It wasn't until days later Oliver Wood sheepishly admitted he invited him to the castle to watch the game.
The next day Harry and Draco arrived early to their first Dueling Club. They barely advertised it, both hoping for a slower start, but over 100 students showed, many below fourth year. Wrangling the younger students, they forced them to line the walls and not participate despite their protests.
Draco (who was supposed to be leading the group) had a thick old book with many notes sticking out of it, but he held back for Snape who was pacing about the room like a caged tiger, scrutinizing the students who dared to show. He wore a half-cloak that looked more like a cape, and seemed ready to do absolute maximum damage to students without a long fussy cloak impeding his leg movements. What looked even stranger was the lack of his usual robes, and Snape's clear, crisp white shirt peaking underneath the half-cloak.
The effect was good: the shirt rolled up to the elbows, showing off the scar left by the Dark Mark. You know what I've done… I hide nothing- so don't mess around. It was soon clear this was not so much a club, but a dueling class run by Snape.
"You are here because you want to learn how to fight… but it is more than that. Perhaps you missed out on all the fun last year and hope to gain a bit of glory. But dueling is not about whipping your wand out, blasting willy nilly, yelling idiotically. There are rules and traditions, and you will look foolish, dare I say… a poor wizard, if you do not adhere to them. Many of these rules you will find in books, others are entirely unspoken…"
Some of the younger students cowered under his gaze. Others matched him with blank eyes, ready to duel today. "Many believe that Traditional Dueling is old-fashioned... a relic that must fade. There are arguments for this... However, courtesy is not to be forgotten. Malfoy- demonstrate." Draco stepped forward and with the practiced dignity of a pureblood, entered into the starting pose. "Many of you may think this is a ridiculous show. But dueling is a sport. It relies on trust and respect for your opponent. Seasoned wizards rarely get into drunken duels with unknown wizards. When they find themselves crossing wands, it is with friends and colleagues- wizards of equal talent and measure. A duel must be equal or there is no pride in the challenge. Courtesies are involved. Other wizards must feel your respect before you cut them down."
"Now, when you are facing off with another, hold your wand clearly where your opponent can see it. It sounds formal, but it is customary to pay your respects to your opponent before a duel. Dare I say- compliment your opponent. It will feel ridiculous exiting your mouths, no doubt, as none of you have developed any tact."
Many of the students looked like they didn't appreciate Snape spouting about respect or tact after all the years of showing them none.
"Potter! Forward. Malfoy- start!"
"We've always had our differences Potter, but I look forward to testing our skills, Slytherin versus Gryffindor.
Malfoy did indeed sound stupid. "You're a snappy dresser and you wear expensive cologne," Harry blurted out. People laughed. Draco stared at him with gritted teeth. You effing Slyffin-puff.
Snape rolled his eyes. "Dueling is about character, not about looks, Potter," he growled.
"Oh, yeah, and uhhh… Slytherin for the Cup."
"Amusing buffoonery, Potter. TAKE NOTE! -Don't do that. One should know what they are going to say before a duel. KNOW your opponent ahead of time- their strengths, their weaknesses..." Snape implored to the room passionately, as if cutting down foes was his deepest pleasure. "When dueling, you should never enter into it blind, and never duel an unknown wizard. Never declare a duel and fight immediately, it should be scheduled for another time. And NEVER let an unknown wizard stand in for a dueler's behalf. You are well in your rights to cancel a duel if you are not facing your expected challenger, and do not let threats of cowardice persuade you. It is underhanded to allow anyone to duel in your place, unless it is a known friend or direct family member. Stand back." Draco and Harry stepped back after their initial poses.
"Granger- forward." Hermione looked unprepared for this. She hesitantly stepped forward and entered the dignified starting pose.
"Not the first to volunteer this time I see…" Snape raised his wand, sneering.
"You're supposed to be paying me a compliment, sir." Her voice seemed steadier than her wand.
"You are more intelligent than all of your friends combined."
"And it is a pleasure to be dueling with such a duplicitous professor. I will read books about you in the future, I'm sure. Perhaps I could write one myself."
They bowed.
"Put this in there-" and Snape wordlessly fired a spell so fast no one saw it, but it was already blocked by Hermione's quick save. A chandelier fell, a stone exploded, Pansy screamed, Harry ducked, taking a fourth year with him, and more people yelled by sheer confusion. By the end of it, both Snape and Hermione were breathing hard. Hermione's hair was a complete afro, encircling her head like a sun. Snape… had a mustache. Both felt themselves up for injuries until the offending cosmetic spell was found. She deflated her hair like a balloon and stepped back quickly into the crowd, relieved to survive a duel with a professor.
"That looked great," Harry said to her holding in a laugh, helping up the fourth year.
"He got me first," she seethed.
"Are you sure?"
"He's quicker than I remember."
"Yeah, but so were you."
"I was scared," she admitted. "I've never faced off against a professor like that."
"Potter!" A de-mustached Snape yelled. Harry stepped forward and held his wand out in the correct stance. Snape sized him up.
"An honor- THE BOY WHO LIVED."
"That shirt looks excellent on you sir. Very attractive." The crowd laughed uncomfortably.
It was a good thing his body moved on its own because he had to block three of Snape's spells before he even had time to think. He felt transported- he was back! Fighting, casting, effortlessly dodging, moving without fear or worry. Finally he was in the present, dancing and fighting like this was his only purpose in life. Snape was an effortless nonverbal caster. The wordless magic kept hitting his just-in-time-shields, soaring spells back at him. Harry moved around, needing all the space he was given, whipping his wand, feeling unstoppable, his elation bubbling and…
Blood spurted from Snape's arm. Harry gasped, stopping immediately, too frightened to move. But Snape stopped and healed the wound effortlessly. Only after Snape started to speak, Harry realized the duel was over and he was injured too. He didn't even realize he was hit.
"Most duels end when your opponent is seriously injured," Snape started walking around the room, Harry crashing back to reality. "Duels may end when the first person is hit. OR there is a set time limit. It is important to discover what kind of duel you have gotten yourself into before you start. If you think the duel will end at the first hit, but your dueling partner keeps going or even kills you… that would be most… unfortunate. Many drunken duels are duels to the death. As the old saying goes: 'It is safer to go drinking without your wand.' There is truth to it, and you'd know this if you paid attention in History of … this is valuable new information for you."
Harry faded back to the throng, trying to act normal. His chest hurt significantly, the pain creeping in.
All the students paired up, fourth years and above. Harry and Draco's jobs turned into babysitting, ensuring the younger students didn't try to join, some slipping in anyway, having to shoo them back to the walls. Many younger students kept trying to join Harry's group just for an excuse to be close to him, which bothered him immensely. Young girls giggled up at him, like he would want to date a third year.
Snape went apocalyptic with the poor wandwork and general lack of safety. By far, it was the most dangerous club that existed in the last seven years, spells erupting from one duel and hitting unintended targets. By the end of it, Luna chaperoned three separate students to the hospital wing and Snape healed five more petrified students who looked like they never wanted to be touched by Snape in any context.
"Well… that… that was something," Harry said after the last of the injured students left the room, looking like they were headed to the hospital wing anyway to ensure they weren't cursed by Snape's 'healing.'
"Homework, Potter- not that you are doing it. Make a list of 10 people you may duel next month: their skills, weaknesses, and how you will pay your respects towards them," Snape said, harassed, like he didn't want to heal the students either.
"Right," Harry said.
Draco was pinching his forehead as if all the improper wand use gave him a headache, seeing how bad the average truly was.
"It wasn't that bad. Lesson was informative," Hermione said brightly, who stayed behind to wait for Harry. Draco and Snape looked at her like they were going to throw her out.
But Harry smiled- he felt a lot better about his competency after that live demonstration. "It will be better next month," he decided for them. "We'll ban the younger students, that'll give us more room. And we could have a sign-up sheet, cap it at 50."
"Yes, that would be best." Snape stood up and Harry noticed his white shirt had little droplets of blood. He tore his eyes away.
"Library next? Or should we go to dinner?" he asked Hermione, wincing a little as he gingerly reached for his bag.
"Are you hurt?" Snape's eyes snapped to him and narrowed.
"What?" Getting caught with the injury made him wince again. "I'm fine, really."
"Who hexed you?" Snape got closer, looking at him… studying him...
"I…" You did.
"Have you been injured this entire time?"
"It's not a big deal!" Harry implored. "I'll just… rub some dittany on it, or something."
"Off-" Snape demanded to his robes and shirt.
Harry threw up his hands, dropping his bag on accident. "I'll… no! Not necessary! I'll go to the hospital wing."
"You very well know there's a line. NOW, Potter- Off."
Harry, painfully cognizant of the audience, undid his robes and pulled up his ratty old t-shirt to reveal a rather large hole in his chest. They all looked at the damage- it was rather deep and they all lapsed into silence as they stared at the impressive bloody hole. Snape raised his hand and healed it slowly. Soon it was all but gone. Harry straightened his shirt, feeling rather embarrassed by the show.
"Draco- back to my office. We shall discuss tactics going forward. Potter- dittany anyway."
"Yes, sir…" and Harry left with Hermione, rather red.
