Harry Potter stood and looked at Drue Rosier. She didn't look as evil as Lord Voldemort.
Still, she was about to duel a first year.
Harry sat, sprawled really, on a loveseat near the edge of the common room, away from the fire.
He could see Snape's disillusioned form, which made him feel better - at least until he figured out why it made him feel better. The only thing he'd got to show for 6 years of schooling was the ability to see what someone was doing - while they were doing it. So, he'd at least know that Drue was trying to Stupefy him.
Harry felt really stupid.
Winifred stood up, "I'll be the Master of Ceremonies. Potter, Drue, you're up."
Harry approached the center of the room, as did Drue. She was dressed in formal dueling robes. Harry just had his normal clothes - which suited him just fine, as he didn't want to look like he'd planned on this.
They both bowed, inside the circle of protection.
Harry stowed his wand (no need to risk it breaking), and Drue started to cast.
It wasn't for nothing that Harry had learned how to dodge - but it wasn't worth much.
He dodged the first two spells, and then all he felt was pain.
Sometimes it tingled, sometimes he screamed - fire shot through his veins, and washed over his body.
At some point he felt like he was drowning.
Five minutes in, and Drue called a slight ceasefire, studying him. "Had enough, pauper Potter?"
Harry smirked, "Not even close."
Drue didn't ask again - her onslaught kept moving, flowing over him in a cascade of magic.
When she stopped again, Harry's eyes caught the crowd. Some were cheering in naked bloodlust (Harry was bleeding with a few small cuts), but a large portion of the younger students just eyed the fight carefully.
"It only gets worse from here," Drue said.
"There's always an easy way to win," Harry smirked, "Just knock me out." And it was true, so why was Drue spending so much time?
"And here I was enjoying the target practice." Drue said, sheathed her wand, and sent a wandless, wordless Stupefy at Harry's head. He dodged, and then everything went black.
Harry woke a while later, Addison cheerfully telling everyone that "He's fine. No demerits for our resident brain." Addison even gave Harry a warm smile as she helped him to his feet.
The entire room seemed to be looking at Harry... subtly. It was a nice, refreshing change from staring.
"Oi! Potter!" one of the heavyset beaters asked.
Harry smiled back at Addison, and then ambled over.
"Yer the right sort, Potter, nevermind you weigh as much as a feather." the other beater said.
The rest of the Quiddich team erupted in raucous laughter.
Harry appreciated the subtlety they were demonstrating - a mild gesture of support that they could withdraw at any time. He'd better have the homework ready before the end of the day.
[a/n: reviews? Harry's used to pain, and this wasn't the Cruciatus.]
