The Duel
Professor Potter released a long exhale as he slumped into the overstuffed chair in his living room, sinking into it like a Gryffin Claw dissolving in a potion.
"The students were that bad, hm?" Ginny Potter appeared in the doorway with a sandwich in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. Harry gratefully accepted them both, making a mental note to vanish any stray crumbs once he finished his meal. He thought they'd gotten rid of the Doxies from last month, but you couldn't be too careful.
"No, I love the kids. It's just that—they aren't engaged." Harry sighed, stuffing half of the sandwich in his mouth at once. He swallowed like a boa constrictor before continuing. "I thought this teaching job would be a breeze after Dumbledore's Army, but the kids just aren't interested in the subject. Not like I was." He took a huge gulp of tea.
"Well, you were highly motivated to pay attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts," Ginny pointed out, "because your life was being threatened every five minutes and you wanted to be able to protect yourself and your friends. Kids these days aren't in the same level of danger. They won't have the same perspective that you did."
"I can hardly summon the Dark Lord to scare them into paying attention," Harry scoffed.
"I wasn't suggesting that. There are safer ways to give the students a little hands-on experience."
"Well..." Harry rubbed his chin. "I suppose I could see if Ron would like to help out for a day. He's seen all sorts of Dark Arts working for the DMLE. Perhaps he could bring in an artefact or two that he's encountered." Hands-on demonstrations had always helped Harry, which was why he'd loved Lupin and hated Binns.
"You're on the right track," Ginny said, "but I have a better idea. How about you bring in a Dark Wizard instead of just an artefact?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Gin. Where am I going to find a Dark Wizard who'd be willing to put on a show for a classroom of—oh. OH. Absolutely not." Harry placed the cup of tea on the place with decided finality. "I am not dealing with him again."
"Now, Harry," Gin pointed an accusatory finger at him, "you assured me some time ago that you and Malfoy were on perfectly amicable terms."
"We are!" Harry protested. "We just—maintain our good relationship by not doing anything which might ruin it. Which means we don't interact."
"Are you sure? Five minutes ago, you were desperate for anything that could hold your students' attentions. Malfoy lives for that sort of thing, not to mention he's quite experienced with-"
"Okay, okay, fine." Harry sighed. "I'll give it a try. Once." He finished his meal, magicked away the crumbs, and sat down at his desk to write a very difficult letter.
Several days later:
With one final stroke of the chalk, Harry stepped back from his blackboard to critique the diagram of defensive wards. Deeming it passable, he first glanced down at his watch (two minutes remained before lecture officially started) and then at the witch and wizard who stood to the left of his desk.
The Malfoys.
Draco was impeccably dressed, as always. His crisply pressed three-piece suit matched the stormy gray of his eyes, wine-red bowtie standing out like a hummingbird's throat. Hermione's jacket, lipstick, shoes, and nails were perfectly coordinated to the exact shade of red (her black pencil skirt had taken up the awkward position of being different).
Harry felt a bit under-dressed in his standard black professor's robes, but maintained that they were the most sensible choice for the elaborate demonstration he was about to give his students.
The minute hand of Harry's watch clicked into position, hovering exactly over the number twelve. "Good afternoon, class," Harry began his lecture.
"Good afternoon, Potter," they groggily chorused. (Why did DADA have to come right after lunch? It wasn't fair...oh well.)
"As promised, you're getting a live demonstration today," Harry continued. "As I'm sure you noticed, I have some...erm...co-teachers with me." He cleared his throat. "This is Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, whom you should already know about if you paid attention in History of Magic, so I won't bother with introductions...unless you have any questions, that is."
A hand shot up from the back of the room, Harry inclined his head in the boy's direction. "Percival."
"Professor Binns told us all about them," Percival declared. "He said that Mrs. Malfoy was historically significant because she was one of only three students in the past fifty years to pay attention during his lectures, and Mr. Malfoy was historically significant for his mastery of the Levitation Charm. Binns said that Mr. Malfoy could use a levitating piece of chalk to draw inappropriate things on the blackboard in more accurate detail than any student he'd ever taught."
The classroom roared with laughter.
"Erm...not quite what I meant, but close enough," Harry said. "Anyways, I would like to thank the Malfoys for arranging this meeting into their very busy schedules. I appreciate this, truly."
"Anything, Potter," Mr. Malfoy drawled. "I'm quite looking forward to you owing me a favor now."
Harry closed his eyes to indulge in rolling them without the student's knowledge. He'd forgotten how annoying that git could be.
"Remember to thank Narcissa, too," Mrs. Malfoy reminded him. "She's watching Casiopea so that we could be here today."
"Yes, ma'am." Harry squinched his eyes tighter. What kind of person names their child "Casiopea Andromeda Granger-Malfoy" anyway? Oh, right, these people. And they're here in my classroom because I was dumb enough to invite them.
He turned back to the students. "So, as I hope Professor Binns has told you, Mr. Malfoy excelled in trying dumb things, not limited to drawing on the blackboard." Harry swallowed, waiting for the jab that didn't come. "He's had quite the experience in illegal magic, though he has avoided Azkaban, thanks to a certain lawyer who now owns a very nice vacation home in the Bahamas."
"Harry," said Hermione in a warning tone.
Draco shrugged. "Keep digging that hole, Potter. Here directly, you're going to owe me multiple favors."
A few students giggled.
Harry grit his teeth, willing the students to be silent. Do not giggle. Do not laugh. Do not give this git any encouragement whatsoever.
"So, Mr. Malfoy is going to demonstrate several curses on me today, and I'll show you how to counter them," Harry explained. "For your safety, and to prevent total destruction of my classroom, we'll stay behind a clear barrier." Harry waved his wand and a massive bubble sprang into existence, enveloping Draco and himself.
"The bubble is being maintained by the magic of the castle," Hermione explained. "This isn't costing Harry any energy."
The students nodded, leaning forward in their seats. Excellent. They're interested.
"Now, who can tell me how a duel begins?" Harry addressed the class.
A hand went up. "Lavinia."
"The combatants face and bow," Lavinia explained.
"Excellent. Five points to Hufflepuff."
"Actually, Potter, the combatants first take off their nice clothes first so they don't get them ruined," Draco corrected. "Please excuse me for a minute." He unbuttoned his suit coat and began undoing his tie.
Harry closed his eyes and exhaled, slowly counting backwards from ten. When he opened them, Draco was in his shirtsleeves (conveniently exposing his toned forearms) and handing his outfit to Hermione. Draco flexed and the huge dragon tattoo on his forearm rippled. Harry suppressed a groan.
"Now the combatants face and bow," Draco continued, gracefully bending at the waist.
"Mr. Malfoy, please keep in mind that I am teaching this class," said Harry as he bowed stiffly. "Not you."
"Shame," Draco said."I am, after all, a master in all things dueling."
"Just start hexing me already," Harry gritted out. "But-BLEGH UGH FLAH BAH NAH!"
The class oohed and aahed as Harry's tongue grew to several times its usual size, flopping down to his waist.
Keeping his annoyance in check, Harry fixed it with a few wordless flicks of his wand. "That's an example of Engorgio, class," Harry explained with his normal-sized tongue. "Not commonly used in duels, but Mr. Malfoy here is known for his-" you promised Ginny that you'd be civil "-creativity. Illustrates the usefulness of being able to cast wordlessly, which happens to be our next topic of discussion."
Heads nodded; eyes widened with wonder. Hopefully, it was a sign that they'd take the topic seriously.
He turned back to the blonde git. "Try another one."
Harry was slightly faster this time, the jet of blue light from Draco's wand ricocheted off Harry's Protego and connected with the desk. Its wooden legs sprang to life, tapping enthusiastically to some nonexistent beat.
A few exclamations of "Whoa" and "Cool" rose up as the students leaned forward for a better view.
"Too bad you don't have a stereo, Potter," Draco observed. "Shame to make your desk dance to silence."
The class giggled.
"Finite," Harry stiffly ordered his desk. It went still.
"Can anyone name the jinx that Mr. Malfoy just used?" he asked.
A hand went up. "Yes, Shaun."
"Tarantellegra," Shaun answered, "also known as the Dancing Jinx."
"Correct. Five points to Ravenclaw," Harry praised. "Now, this incident also illustrates the importance of situational awareness. Were this an actual duel, that dancing desk would have been a tripping hazard. The best duelists use their surroundings to their advantage. Any questions?"
A Slytherin in the front raised her hand. "Yes, Taila."
"If spells bounce off of Protego, could you accidentally hit yourself?" Taila asked. "What then?"
"That would never happen to me," Draco interrupted Harry before the latter opened his mouth, "because I'm careful of what angle I'm casting from. But, yes, it's a very real danger, and one that all good duelists keep in mind. Excellent question, Taila. Slytherin should get-twenty points for that, I believe, Potter."
"FIVE," Harry corrected. "My rule is five points per student per question."
"A bit of variety wouldn't hurt, Potter."
"Fine. Ten thousand points to Gryffindor!" Harry snapped.
"Harry," Hermione interrupted, "the point cap is fifty per student. Anything more must be approved by the Headmaster."
"Nnrrgh. Yes, Hermione," Harry sighed.
"Twenty is still good," Draco pointed out.
"Please stop trying to monopolize my classroom and just start hexing me."
His Seeker reflexes kicking in, Harry leapt over a hex aimed at his knees and narrowly dodged a Stinger to his left ear. Something like cold water splashed against his right hand and his fingernails started to grow at an alarming rate. He had seconds before he'd have to release his wand or suffer his nails growing through his palm...
"Rictusempra!"
"Potter, you—AH HA HA HA HA!" Draco doubled over, hugging his midsection.
Wand in his left hand, Harry tapped the fingernails of his right. They returned to their normal length.
"Class, this illustrates why you should be able to cast with your non-dominant hand," Harry explained as Draco continued to roll in the floor, laughing and screaming uncontrollably. "I hope this little lesson drives that point home. Questions?"
Taila's hand went back up. "Professor, are you just going to leave Mr. Malfoy in the floor?"
"Well, ordinarily, I would lift the spell," Harry explained, "but seeing as how Mr. Malfoy is a self-proclaimed master in all things dueling, I think I'll let him figure this one out."
Pain stabbed into his back so suddenly that Harry audibly gasped, hands frantically reaching behind him to find-
Wings.
Enormous, leathery, hideous bat wings.
Draco struggled to his feet. "Class, this illustrates—BAH HA—why you should learn—HA HA HA—to cast spells—HA HA—despite being jinxed!"
It would've been much more impressive if Draco wasn't still twitching and jerking, but the display still held the rapt attention of the class.
Frowning, Harry prodded his latest adornment with his wand. "Malfoy, where did you ever learn this?"
"Secret."
"I have never, ever-" Harry's wings twitched and the left one collided with the desk. "Owwww! Ow ow ow! Malfoy, you take these off at once!"
"Sorry, Potter, 'fraid I can't." Recovered from the tickling hex, Draco flashed him an absolutely angelic smile. "Don't think I pronounced the incantation quite correctly, since I happened to be laughing too loudly, so the preferred counter-jinx can't undo the spell if it wasn't the original..."
"Adherium!" Purple light blasted from Harry's wand and landed on Draco's left shoe. The blonde's eyes widened as he struggled vainly to lift his foot, then narrowed and glared at Harry. "Gods, Potter, what was that for?"
"You're staying put until you get rid of these bat wings!"
"Potter, I told you, the counter-jinx won't work! Besides, you're the professor, so I think I'll let you figure this one out."
"EEEAAAGGHHHH!" Harry launched himself at Draco and his solar plexus connected with a fist. Grunting, he collapsed to the floor, raised his wand, and-
"Protego!" Draco was behind a glowing shield.
"Afraid to fight me, Malfoy?"
"Just calling a time-out, Potter. Must untie my stuck shoe." Casually, Draco knelt down and began fiddling with the knot.
Harry groaned. "You are the only wizard on this planet who requires a time-out in the middle of a duel to fix his shoe."
"Well, I'm not interested in shelling out fifty Galleons for a new pair," Draco argued. "That lawyer was very expensive." Laces undone, he slid back his foot and lifted the shield.
Jinxes flew faster than Snitches as the wizards threw themselves at each other. Harry dodged, shielded, and parried, frustration and adrenaline urging him on. He only half-noticed the throng of awed students taking in his every movement, so focused he was on the fight.
Harry felt himself flung backwards as a massive welt appeared over one eye. Draco doubled over, sneezing violently...and spraying glitter everywhere.
Hermione stormed onto the floor, positioning herself between the two wizards. "Time out!" she ordered. "Demonstration is over!"
The class stood up in their seats and applauded.
Harry groaned in pain.
Draco sneezed, a cloud of glitter exploding in his face.
Her hair enormous with fury, Hermione rounded on her husband first. "You! You promised to behave yourself today!"
"I-WACHOO!-tried," Draco protested. Looking very unimpressed, Hermione conjured a handkerchief and handed it to him.
She spun 180 degrees on her heel. "And you! You're supposed to be a professor! How could you lose control like that in front of your own classroom?"
"Well...I think I at least had their attention today," Harry protested feebly.
McGonagall's knock sounded at the door.
"DON'T COME IN!" Draco shouted. "I'm-WACHOO!-not presentable!"
"What appears to be the problem today, Mr. Malfoy?" came the long-suffering voice of the Headmistress.
"I'm-WACHOO!-in my shirtsleeves and—WACHOO!-covered in glitter and I'm-WACHOO!-missing a shoe!"
"I'm certain I've seen worse," McGonagall declared, opening the door.
That evening:
"Dear, what's that in your hand?" Ginny Potter asked as she brought her husband his evening tea and sandwich.
"A detention slip," Harry groaned, sinking weakly into his overstuffed chair. (He'd eventually managed to banish the bat wings.)"McGonagall threatened to send me back to my school years with a time turner..."
"A detention slip? Harry, you promised to behave! You should be ashamed! What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Umm...Malfoy got one too?"
"Harry."
"I mean, I'm sorry." Harry exhaled. "On the bright side, that was the most engaged I've ever seen my class. They're going to learn loads now."
"I hope you learned something today," Ginny said.
"I did," said Harry. "Never, ever, invite Draco Malfoy to perform a demonstration in class." He took a bite of the sandwich.