The Duel
"Fix it Draco. Fix it or be sure you win," Lucius Malfoy, Draco's influential father growled, his voice tight with disapproval. "People of Status are invited to the Ball. Not the fallen from grace and the pets of Dumbledore!"
Draco quivered in his boots. "But father…Daphne… she…!"
"This silly idea of yours is ridiculous! You know we have a contract with the Parkinson's! Grow up Draco!"
I'm eleven," Draco thought with a scowl. I'm not growing up yet! He thought stubbornly.
"If you cannot. I will be disappointed."
That said, the fiery head of Lucius Malfoy disappeared from the fireplace.
Draco paled at his father's last words. Would he be grounded for a month? Would his broom be confiscated? Would they not take him for their summer trip to the Island!? With each though his horror grew.
"Are you done Draco?"
Draco nearly jumped out of his skin and turned around to face Professor Snape who was glaring down at him with glittering eyes.
"Yes," Draco said with a sigh, calming his beating heart.
He glanced at the exit of the dimly lit office which seemed to be filled with Snape's presence. The Potions Professor dominated the room and Draco found himself wanting to leave.
"You will need training if you hope to defeat Potter," Snape said simply.
Draco scowled harder. "Or I could just tell Daphne I never committed to a date and have the duel after Christmas!"
"Is that cowardice or cunning talking Draco," Snape said darkly.
Draco flushed. "I wasn't thinking straight when I made that bet. I mean, have you seen him Professor?! He's a creep and he gets this funny look on his face when he does magic! I don't want to fight that… that thing unless I have to!"
Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Is that a lack of faith in my teaching ability or an overestimation of Potter's abilities?" Snape literally spat the word Potter.
"You're a terrible teacher Professor," Draco deadpanned.
Snape smirked. "Perhaps at Potions. You haven't seen me teach the Dark Arts yet."
Draco's eyes widened and his lips stretched from ear to ear involuntarily with glee. His father had never taught him any Dark Magic!
"When do we start?"
He couldn't wait to beat Potter and brag about it.
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The Library
Harry was enamoured by the book his nose was buried in. He had found it by accident in the restricted section while looking for books about magic that manipulated the elements of nature.
It was a small book compared to the massive Tome's in the restricted section and it detailed the adventures and horrors of Herpo the Foul. The man who had turned a part of a nation into a desert just because someone had said he smelled funny. The book said nothing about how Herpo accomplished this and instead focused on his rise as a Lord of the Dark, his creation of the King of Serpents and his invention of a vessel to carry a soul in a quest for Immortality until his eventual death under mysterious circumstances.
There were images of a lush green forest that was converted into an endless sea of sand and Harry tenderly ran his fingers over the image of the desert. It called out to him… whispered to the Void… beckoned him into its endless dunes and harsh nature. Harry wanted to experience the Desert. He wanted to stand in the middle of nowhere and feel the emptiness all around him. To survive in a desolate landscape in a place that the Void so deeply identified itself with. Desolate. Alone. Power. A King atop his Mountain.
"Hey Harry!" The voice cut into his fantasy and he jerked out it jarringly.
Harry scowled. It was Daphne. Why was she always there? Like a pest he couldn't swat away.
He shut the book and slipped it out of view. He didn't want her to see it. He felt connected to the book or rather just one page, with one picture. Everything else was meaningless.
The action didn't go unnoticed by Daphne and she ignored it. Her priorities lay elsewhere.
"Draco asked me to pass along a message. Tonight, in the Trophy Hall, at midnight."
Excitement bubbled in the Void. It longed to be free again.
"It's six now so we got time in case you want to prepare yourself or something. I'll be your second of course, but I doubt I'll be needed. Do you want to go over the rules of Duelling or…?"
Daphne was rambling. Harry could sense her unease and he dismissed it sparing no thoughts for it. His mind was conjuring images of a much more pleasing nature. How should he kill Draco? Should he cut off his head? Or suffocate him with the Void? Should he use spells? Harry had begun to dislike spells. They were too flashy. Too slow and required too many wand motions. It took time to cast a spell and Harry preferred magic be instantaneous. He was beginning to find waving his wand around annoying and when he got annoyed his got angry. And when he got angry the Void got violent, unstable. The Void wanted to be let out with a bang. Not carefully moulded and changed into spells with a purpose. The Void had no purpose.
"…of course we won't be killing or hurting each other too much," Daphne continued. "Just disarm him and we're golden."
Those words called a screeching halt to Harry's thoughts.
"What?" he hissed dangerously. "No killing?"
Daphne took a step back when she saw a flare of something in his green eyes; smouldering with upset. "What do you mean no killing?"
"Err... it's just a duel. And we don't know enough spells to kill." She laughed nervously and felt a dark aura oppress the air around her. Suddenly she felt like she didn't know Harry Potter at all. There was a rage, a madness in his eyes that made her want to turn and flee.
Daphne caged the fear she was suddenly feeling, took a step forward and put her hand on his shoulder. "Calm down," she said bravely, her body projecting understanding and acceptance. She didn't know this alien Harry but she knew she had to calm him, she knew it instinctively. "You can still beat the snot out of him. And remember. The reward is a free run of his family library! Imagine the books that we could find. The knowledge. The power!" she coaxed.
And to her relief the cold fire behind those beautiful green eyes simmered and disappeared. The antisocial bookworm re-emerged.
Harry looked at Daphne like he was looking at her for the first time. Truly looking at her. His eyes slowing roved all over her, from her legs to her torso, up her thin neck and finally into her eyes.
Daphne shivered subconsciously and looked away from those intense eyes. There was nothing perverted about the way Harry was looking her up and down. It was calculating. Judging. Weighing her worth. And when she looked back there was a small smile playing around his lips. It was weird. There was no humour in it. Was it acceptance? Daphne's heart soared.
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Midnight
"Now remember,' Daphne said warily. "No killing. Only disarming."
Harry didn't reply. The Void throbbed. Anticipating. Waiting. Pulsing.
Daphne was feeling like she was completely out of her depth here. Six hours ago. Harry Potter was a measuring stick she used against herself. He was her mysterious eccentric friend. And now, when she had tried to solve the mystery, she found a touch of insanity. She had seen it laid out bare and she truly realised. Harry Potter was not completely sane. He was tipping over the abyss and had yet to decide if he wanted to fall or be pulled back to the place where everyone else stood.
Daphne knew the death of her father and the loss of their family prestige and gold had forced her to grow up faster than most children. She felt like she was in a den with squabbling headless chicken and that is why she kept her friend circle small and tight. She tried befriending the older years but they shooed her along like some common eleven year old. In Harry she had seen a friend, her age, smarter than her, famous and uncaring of opinions.
After what she saw six hours ago, she was rethinking the pros and cons of that friendship and found that the pros outweighed the cons. All she had to do was keep his rage soothed.
"Well, well, well," a voice sneered into the silence of the trophy hall. "Looks like you showed up after all. Is your pet ready Daphne?"
Daphne glanced at Harry with alarm at the pet comment and found he looked like he hadn't even heard it. He was looking at Draco and the large Slytherin, Marcus Flint, she noted with a gulp, like they were prey. She glanced around and noticed all the gleaming trophies and plates that had been collected over the centuries. The floating candle lights reflected off the gold giving the room a very warm golden hue. It was a metaphoric warmth. The chill in the wind coming from the cracks was real and made her tighten her cloak around her.
"Prepare to get your arse handed to you Draco," Daphne said confidently.
Flint guffawed. "We been practising with Professor Snape, Greengrass. You best surrender now. We won't go easy on yea."
Daphne paled.
"Enough," a soft, velvet voice whipped. "Let us begin," said Harry.
"Finish this in one move Draco," Flint hissed maliciously.
Draco and Harry moved in front of each other, ten paces apart, Draco with wand in hand, Harry with empty palms. Draco was smirking, Harry was smiling. They bowed, Draco's eyes glittering, Harry's glowing.
"On the count of three," Daphne breathed.
"One…
"Two…
"Three!"
They rose, Draco's wands already sparking red. "Reduc…!" Draco was about to cry out the spell aiming at Harry when words died in his mouth when he looked into hellish green eyes.
A truly mad expression was on Harry. His eyes were wide and glowing, a huge smile on his face and he was giggling with his arms spread open, like he was inviting Draco for a hug.
Flint felt it before Draco did. A cold oppressive something coming from Harry Potter.
"Draco!" he shouted in alarm but it was too late.
Harry Potter brought his palms together and a shock-wave burst out. Flint raised a shield to protect him and Draco but it was of no use. He felt his body leaving solid ground and flying back, into one of the Trophy cabinets.
Glass and flesh met with a shattering crash.
Draco groaned, wondering what the hell had just happened. He picked himself of the floor, shaking of the shards of glass that were in his hair saw Flint do the same next to him. Flint's wand was held firm in his palm and his eyes were fixed on Harry. Draco followed Flint's gaze and felt fear.
Harry was walking towards them. He was still smiling. How? Draco wondered. How could something so small that looked so fragile possibly be this dangerous!
Flint raised his wand and Harry immediately in response thrust out his arms, palms facing out.
Draco felt something cold grasp his neck. He screamed in fear. It was spreading all over his skin like slime and his body was rising of the floor. It was tightening its grip around his neck and terror washed over him like a sudden downpour of rain. He tried screaming for help but his lips were sealed shut. His eyes bulged at the lack of air and his legs began to flail.
"Harry!" Daphne screeched but it fell on deaf ears. Harry was having the time of his life.
"HARRY POTTER!" boomed another voice. An ancient voice saturated with power and command.
Draco and Flint fell to the ground, at the feet of Albus Dumbledore, who looked beyond furious.
Harry let go of the void in disappointment and leashed it with remarkable control. He looked into the eyes of the headmaster, blue eyes behind which swam an endless pool of absolute power.
"They challenged me first," he said with a petulant scowl. He was having fun and the headmaster just had to come and ruin it!
"My office," thundered Dumbledore angrily. "Now!"