Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognisable characters, plots, and settings are the exclusive property of Joanne K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.

Edited by: Void Uzumaki; Ashestodust B.; R. Yorkshireman Read: Bub3loka

Warning: Violence, coarse language, etc.

Also, if you're feeling generous or want to support me or read ahead, you know where to find me.

11th of October, Friday

Diana ducked under the stinging hex and jabbed her wand forward with a twist.

"Aculeus!" In hindsight, she probably shouldn't have bothered as the pale blue spell flew over her head harmlessly.

Granger, the bossy Gryffindor girl, was very good at writing homework, answering questions, or most of the usual classwork. But aiming and dodging seemed to evade her as Diana's hex struck her at the elbow, which earned the Ravenclaw girl a heated glare.

Another hex came her way, and she spun out of the way before retaliating. Yet, to her chagrin, her rushed wand movements must have been off because her wand belched a blue light that fizzled out before travelling half the distance. Diana got struck twice today, and it wasn't painful, just like Professor Quirrell said - an unpleasant pinch at most.

Avoiding Granger's poorly aimed spells was easy, and she found her gaze idly wandering across the room.

Truth be told, trying to cast a new spell, aim, and dodge at the same time had turned out far more challenging than doing the same while sitting calmly on a chair. The rest of the students did not fare much better than Diana, except for Neville Longbottom, Terry Boot, and Sophie Roper. Although, being struck by the hexes and jinx was an excellent motivation to try harder or dodge better.

Most of the class was having great fun despite being tired, and none were worse for wear from a few stray pinches. Juno and Harry were the exceptions here; the professor always paired them up, although for a good reason. Her friend and the tall girl were far more skilled than the rest - their bouts were the most extreme. Spells that Diana had not even heard of flew rapidly, and neither her classmate nor the tall girl struggled with casting in a pinch like the rest of them.

Harry ducked under a grey jinx and returned with a Tarantallegra, which made Juno's feet dance furiously in some odd quickstep, but she quickly managed to dispel it.

Bloody hell, some of them were even silent, and most were so quiet and quick that Diana could barely hear or understand what exactly was spoken. And wasn't that a surprise - Harry's success at chantless casting was an eye-opener. It was one thing to see an old, wizened professor do it and entirely another when a boy her age did it.

It was like an odd, dangerous dance between the two of them, although Juno Lestrange seemed to get winded far quicker than Harry did, as she was always tired at the end of the class. In Diana's opinion, Harry was a tad better, taking this as a challenge and practice. Her friend did manage to land more hits than his opponents.

Despite the tiring classes, DADA was one of the favourite subjects of all students. Quirrell might have been quite demanding but did not shy away from answering additional questions or helping those struggling. His charismatic smile and easy-going attitude had also won over even the older years, who only had praise for the man.

A pinch across her thigh and Granger's triumphant stare reminded Diana that they were still practising in pairs, and she shook her head and focused.

A clockwise spin, followed by a jab, "Aculeus!"

Granger jerked to the side, but her shoulder still got glazed, and Diana earned herself another grimace.

The bell stopped any further fighting, at least on their part.

"Class dismissed," Quirrell's silky voice echoed above the room, halting the few remaining students who were too absorbed in exchanging jinxes. "For next Friday, I want a four-inch essay on the origins and uses of the cushioning charm and fire-making spell."

With a graceful twirl of his robes, the professor disappeared at the door behind his desk.

A good part of the students were flushed with exertion or breathless, although quite a lot seemed to have taken it easy; after all, while a slight pinch was unpleasant, even a dozen of them weren't much. Harry had a few beads of sweat running down his brow, but his breathing was even, unlike Juno, who looked like she had just run a marathon and was desperately gasping for breath.

Parvati Patil nodded to her twin sister and gathered with another Gryffindor girl, Lavender Brown, giggling.

"So, what has your sister so excited?" Diana prodded at her roommate.

The two sisters were so different despite being twins; the Ravenclaw one was serious and studious, while the Gryffindor one always smiled and giggled around like those gossip queens in Diana's previous school.

"Some rumour again," Padma sighed. "Supposedly, Professor Quirrell had asked Trelawney on a date the next Hogsmeade weekend, and he's in a rush to meet her."

"Who's Trelawney?"

"The divination professor. That thin, spindly woman with fizzy hair and large glasses."

Diana jerked back in surprise; she remembered the woman well enough after seeing her at the Great Hall plenty of times. Trelawney looked like an oversized insect with her numerous shiny chains and colourful beads.

"How did she manage to bag someone like Quirrell?!"

The DADA professor was handsome, charming, and well-liked, while the divination professor looked like the worst of those shoddy charlatans at a medieval fair who would try to swindle you out of your money by telling your fortune. Although, Trelawney had to be really good at telling people's fortune; otherwise, she wouldn't be a professor in a magic school.

"Don't know. Maybe he has a flair for the mystical?" Padma said with a snort and looked at Lestrange, gingerly walking out of the room with a grimace, followed by Brocklehurst and MacDougal. "Potter is as merciless as always. Poor Lestrange looks like she has been run over by a hippogryph. I feel grateful that Professor Quirrell always pairs the two of them up."

"Lestrange doesn't hold back either," Harry came over and rolled up his sleeves, revealing two coin-sized purple bruises on his forearm.

"That looks painful," Diana winced; her own spells could barely cause the skin to redden. Were Juno and Harry so much more powerful than the rest of them? Or were they aiming to hurt each other? "Maybe you should go visit the school nurse?"

She used to be at the top of most classes in her muggle school with barely any effort, but her new friend made this laughable. It was rare to see someone with so much talent and hard work in spades. And Harry was far from the only one; Juno seemed to have taken his top spot as a personal challenge and was also far ahead compared to the other students.

Both of them received advanced study materials from most of the teachers. According to the rumour mill, Juno and Harry were good enough to skip the first year and join the second year altogether. However, it seemed to be nothing more than gossip, as neither the teachers nor Harry had mentioned anything of the sort.

Even Damien Greengrass, a reserved yet proud Slytherin boy, was above Diana in his schoolwork. Granger was also breathing on her neck, trying to compete for bloody everything.

"Madam Pomfrey already gave me a bruise removal paste." Although judging by the stubborn tilt of his shoulders, Harry rarely used it. "Besides, they go away quickly enough on their own."

"Are you sure you weren't trained by the Headmaster?" That question earned Padma a scathing look, forcing her to raise her hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. I still don't get what your beef with Professor Dumbledore is. The man might be a bit eccentric, but he's the greatest wizard of our time."

"Doesn't mean I have to like him," Harry shrugged unapologetically.

"Spoilsport," the Patil twin pouted, but her face grew thoughtful. "My father did mention that despite his amiable facade, Dumbledore is not an easy man to be denied and can be quite cunning when he wants to be."

"Well, I most certainly did not receive any training or aid from Albus Dumbledore," her friend's voice was as dry as the Sahara desert. "The first time I ever saw the man was at the welcoming feast."

Padma was not placated by that response, though.

"Then, how are you so good?" She quickly shook her head. "No, wait, I've heard the answer already. And if Flitwick is to be believed, both your parents were outstanding students. The amount of training you do is ridiculous, comparable to those professional duellists," the Indian girl paused and stared at Harry as if seeing him for the first time. "Wait, are you going to attempt to join the junior duelling circuit?"

Harry seemed quite surprised by the question, and his face turned thoughtful.

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea, but I thought we didn't have a duelling club here in Hogwarts?"

"There was one like twenty years ago, but it was disbanded during the war," Padma's face scrunched up. "According to Roger Davies, it never managed to gather enough volunteers to be reinstated. But I bet if you ask Flitwick, he'd manage to arrange something for you, as he's an international champion. Our head of house favours you more than Snape does Malfoy."

Harry's face twisted into something between a troubled smile and a grimace, and Diana couldn't help but chuckle, "You say that as if the rest of the teachers don't have their own favourites."

"Professor McGonagall has none."

Padma's statement made the muggle-born girl pause, trying to think of any moments or rumours of bias from the transfiguration mistress but came up short.

"Rumours say that only Quidditch has a place in that icy heart of hers," Harry joked.

Ah, broom riding!

Madam Hooch's lessons were quite exciting, and it did help that Diana had some talent there. Although the wonky school brooms were a menace - Fawley had boldly tried some feints during the first flying lesson, only to crash into the ground and get sent to the Hospital Wing. Yet, as usual, Harry proved ridiculously good at flying, even with the wonky brooms.

"Speaking of Quidditch, I heard Davies still complains that you declined his invitation for the tryouts."

"I just like flying," her friend shrugged serenely. "Playing Quidditch is nice, but the obligation of joining a team sounds quite taxing. Besides, I have no broom."

"You say that as if Flitwick won't make an exception and let you buy one should you join the team," Padma tutted. "What about you, Diana? You seemed quite enthusiastic about flying."

"I might just try out for the team next year when I can get my own broom," the girl hummed thoughtfully. Her father would buy her the best broom on the market, although her mother might need some convincing. "Any of you want to fly together after Charms?"

"No, thank you," her roommate took a step back, aghast. "The school brooms look like they might fall apart mid-flight. My legs get weak just from remembering Hooch's lessons."

Diana turned to Harry, who also shook his head.

"Maybe if you get some older years to lend us some brooms." Her shoulders sagged; Diana knew no upper years with a broom that would possibly let them use three brooms for a ride. "Anyway, let's head to charms."

As they finally left the DADA classroom, she checked her sleek dark wristwatch, a gift from her father for her last birthday. "We still have ten minutes."

They finally moved from the front of the DADA classroom towards the upper floor, and Harry took the morning paper from his bag and began reading.

"I'm still not sure why you're wasting your sickles on the Daily Prophet," Padma grumbled. "Most of it is as interesting as Binns' lessons."

"And as unbiased as Snape," Harry shook his head, although there seemed to be a tinge of fondness in the motion. "It's good to know what's happening around the wizarding world, if nothing else. At least if you can look past what they say or what they don't say."

"If you say so." Diana's roommate didn't look too convinced. "Is there something interesting at least?"

"Well, Bagnold's term runs out next week, and elections for the Minister of Magic will be held three days later," Harry shuffled across the pages for a few moments, and Diana had to fight off a yawn, then his face turned thoughtful. "The dark wizard who supposedly broke into Gringotts has still not been found, and the goblins refuse to cooperate with the DMLE. There's also some speculation that a dark warlock is on the loose as a series of unexplained deaths in Shaftesbury, Semley, and Gillingham baffle the muggle authorities."

"Wait, hold up," Diana halted. "There's some crazy wizard killing normal folks around for no reason?!"

"Maybe?" Harry sighed. "Even the Aurors aren't exactly sure if there was any dark wizard at work here."

"I remember my father telling me of a cursed teacup that got lost in the muggle world last year. It poisoned every muggle that drank from it last year," Padma added thoughtfully. "One even died before they managed to find it."

Diana shuddered at the thought; what if her parents became victims of such misfortune? The wizarding world seemed far less amazing and far more precarious all of a sudden.

"Does dangerous stuff happen so often?"

Harry must have noticed her distress because he patted her shoulder reassuringly as he rolled the paper and deposited it into his bag.

"Well, accidents do happen both in the magical and muggle world," his words were oddly reassuring.

"Yeah, but I heard muggle newspapers don't report less important stuff," Padma murmured. "Wizarding Britain is quite small, so anything remotely interesting makes it to the Prophet, even nonsensical rumours."

"As long as you don't buy things from shady-looking wizards and avoid Knockturn Alley, you should be safe," Harry coughed.

"Knockturn Alley?" Diana echoed.

"The seedier counterpart of Diagon Alley, where visiting folks are questionable, dangerous, and shifty, if not all three."

They just passed by the corner and halted.

Diana had a strange feeling of deja vu - the hallway looked the same as one month ago, with Longbottom, arms folded, and his friends barring Lestrange, and the rest of the claws and the lions stood by the side, watching rather nervously. However, this time, the Gryffindor looked a lot more confident.

"-I challenge you to a wizarding duel," Longbottom's snarling face held a tinge of fury and cruelty as he looked at Juno's stiff form. "Here and now!"

"And why, pray tell, would I accept?" Lestrange's response was icy. "There's nothing to be gained with fighting, and I have no issue with you."

"Merlin's pants, Longbottom. If you're so brave, why seek to challenge her when she's tired?" MacDougal groaned from the side.

Indeed, while the Gryffindor had grown to be one of the better students in DADA, Diana would say Juno would win as her housemate was leagues ahead. If she had not gone through the brutal wringer called Harry Potter, that is.

"Are you scared?" Neville's mocking gaze did not move from Juno's face. "Do you need Professor Flitwick to save you again? A coward, just like your murdering parents who slinked around in the dark, ambushing respectable folk."

The tall Ravenclaw girl stiffened even more, and her back had an angry tilt.

"Fine, Longbottom, you asked for it," Juno harshly jabbed an angry finger at her opponent's chest. "MacDougal will be my second."

Harry tiredly rubbed his brow with a groan.

"Weasley will be mine," Longbottom's declaration was met by a confused blink by the red-haired boy standing to his left.

Diana, however, couldn't help but watch on with fascination and move towards the wall to make room for the fighting, just like everyone else did.

Duelling sounded so exciting!

"Who will officiate?" MacDougal asked, not seeming thrilled to be involved in the whole affair. "It needs to be someone impartial."

The Gryffindor boy looked around, and then his gaze settled on Harry.

"Potter."

"Potter will do," Juno craned her neck and nodded curtly.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a long moment as everyone's attention seemed to be trained upon him.

"Fine," he grudgingly walked just in the middle between Lestrange and Longbottom. "Are you sure we cannot resolve this… peacefully?" Both shook their heads, making Harry sigh. "First, bow to your opponent."

They had already got their wands out; Lestrange's bow was deep but stiff while Longbottom inclined his head forward mockingly.

"This fighting nonsense ends with the duel, no matter the winner and loser," Harry's green eyes grew fierce as he glanced first at the one and then at the other, and both gave an imperceptible nod.

"Standard duelling rules - no spells to injure, just to disarm and stun. On three. One, two, three."

Harry bolted away as soon as the last word left his mouth, and Juno and Neville moved into motion.

"Flipendo!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Spells immediately began to fly, and Diana could see the difference. Juno's casting was quicker, but it seemed that she was still stiff and winded from the DADA lesson, and she had trouble avoiding while Neville looked energetic, even though his movement looked a tad awkward.

"Rictumsempra!"

Longbottom barely avoided the silvery charm that flew harmlessly into the other end of the hallway. Just as he did, he mumbled something under his nose, and a red light sailed towards his opponent.

This time, Juno was too slow to avoid with her stiff movements and hit on the leg.

For a brief moment, it seemed like the spell did nothing, but then the tall Ravenclaw flailed in surprise as her feet remained still, as if her shoes were glued to the ground.

It took Juno nearly two seconds to regain her balance, and she barely managed to jerk out of the way of Neville's orange Flipendo, whatever that did. Judging by his furious snarl, It must have been a nasty jinx.

Half of the spells they used weren't in the standard book of spells grade one, making Diana unsure of what exactly was transpiring in front of her.

"Slugulus Eructo!"

"Flipendo!"

Longbottom got struck by the green spell and heaved over heavily, while Juno failed to dodge the orange spell this time.

Diana's heart skipped a beat as the tall girl got struck square in the chest, followed by a nasty snapping sound as her body crumbled backwards as if struck by a wrecking ball. Yet, her feet were still glued to the floor, and she fell backwards, head hitting the stone floor with a resounding crack.

At first, Diana thought the girl would attempt to stand, but her ankles were bent at a painfully wrong angle. Dark crimson slowly seeped like a red halo on the flagstone around Juno Lestrange's head, making Diana's insides twist into a painful knot while Longbottom retched heavily.

Blood, there was so much blood!

"What is happening here?!" Professor Quirrell's incensed voice cut through the silence, and relief flooded Diana's heart.

Juno's head felt heavy and stiff and pulsed painfully; it felt like she was run over by a herd of thestrals. Her mind was sluggish as if stuck in a quagmire.

"This is outrageous, Dumbledore!" The furious cry was oddly familiar. "Blood feuds have been started for less!"

Her eyelids were as if made of lead, and opening them was a struggle. After a few heartbeats, Juno succeeded, only to wince when assaulted by an unbearably bright light.

"Miss Lestrange accepted an unsanctioned wizarding duel between two children, Arcturus," the jovial tone of the headmaster was replaced with tiredness. "No illegal spells were used by either of them. I checked the wands myself."

"The cretin almost murdered my grand-niece!"

What had happened again? Right, she was duelling Longbottom… and lost?

"Nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn't have fixed quickly," Dumbledore's voice grew stern. "By the morning, Miss Lestrange shall be as good as new."

"Have you gone senile, Dumbledore?" The angry bellow made Juno wince. "Her head was cracked open like a bloody fucking watermelon, her ankles broken and ligaments torn. If it were not for Professor Quirrell, she would have bled out before reaching the hospital wing!"

The room grew cold and oppressive in an instant, and Juno had trouble breathing. Yet the pressure disappeared just as it came - in a blink of an eye.

"There is no need to exaggerate the event with me, Lord Black. And Mister Longbottom has been punished appropriately."

Juno winced once again, rightfully expecting the following eruption.

"Appropriately? A few months of detention for a murder attempt?!" A dark chuckle rasped out from Lord Black. "That boy should be expelled and have his wand snapped in disgrace, not get a slap on the wrist!"

That was Lord Arcturus Black, her great grand-uncle and the man who had raised her, although Juno often called him grandfather.

"You're going too far, Arcturus," Dumbledore sighed. "This is children's folly. You yourself did much the same in your youth - how many boys did you send to the Hospital Wing using a lot worse than second-year spells?"

"That might be true," the words were grudgingly spat out. "But don't play coy with me, Dumbledore. None of those duels was with the intent to maim or kill. The sticking shoes hex with the knockback jinx was Frank Longbottom's signature move that killed many a dark wizard."

"Indeed," Juno's eyes finally got used to the overly bright eye, only to see the headmaster nod tiredly. "But you know the archaic laws where wizarding duels are concerned. You yourself used it many times, after all - Hogwarts has no right to meddle into such affairs, as long as there are no fatalities."

"Piss on the law," Arcturus spat on the floor. "If you don't do anything about the boy, I will."

"Are you threatening my student, Lord Black?" Dumbledore's words were calm, but a dire chill crawled up Juno's spine.

"Neither a threat nor a promise, only a simple fact," was the hissed response. "You can't stop me, headmaster. After all, the laws governing such issues are archaic, and the duel was technically unsanctioned. You said it yourself."

"There shall be no violence upon my students in Hogwarts!"

The stern words were spoken like both a fact and a warning.

"Careful, Dumbledore, your true colours are showing, you bloody fucking hypocrite. You can't have that vile cretin strut around and pester Juno when she's at her weakest out of pure spite. You seem to have no problem when your students are the ones fighting!"

"You can hardly blame Mr Longbottom for his show of Slytherin cunning," the headmaster's voice was sardonic. "It doesn't matter, Arcturus. There shall be no reprisal or fighting within my school. Neville has been severely chastised - his wand privileges outside of classes have been suspended for the next two years, and he will scrub toilets by hand every evening until the school year ends."

"Funny thing. Where was your concern when Longbottom was making trouble? Why do your Gryffindor golden boys always get away with their shite?!" An angry exhale followed, and Juno again winced as her head pulsed from the loud voices. "Fine, have it your way; I won't touch the boy inside the school, but the Longbottoms shall pay one way or another. Mark my words, Dumbledore, this I swear. "

The undeniable crack of magic washed through the room, followed by the headmaster's tired groan.

"And then they'll retaliate - an endless cycle of blood and revenge. I cannot stop you, Arcturus," Dumbledore's response was frosty. "Do what you wish, but the school is my bottom line. There shall be no violence over the students under my protection."

"Go fuck yourself, you bloody hypocrite," Arcturus Black spat with a fierce scowl. "If Juno is attacked in your school one more time, heads will roll."

The headmaster then looked straight at Juno through the opaque privacy screen, the usual twinkle in his blue eyes gone, replaced with… a tinge of regret and… sorrow?

"This is the last time I let these vulgar insults fly, Arcturus. For a man claiming such a high birth, you sound like a street thug. You don't want me to treat you as such." The aid grew frigid, and breathing became hard, "It seems your grand-niece is awake," Dumbledore's voice was impassive, and the pressure disappeared from her chest. "I shall leave you to it."

The sound of weary footsteps slowly dwindled into the distance.

The privacy screen was abruptly pulled aside, revealing her grandfather's worried and pale face.

"You foolish child," he groaned, closed his grey eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "How are you feeling?"

Juno shuffled uneasily and groaned in pain; her head was heavily bandaged and felt like it would split open at any moment. Her legs below the knee itched painfully, as if ants were crawling under her skin, and everything else was stiff or in pain.

"Evr'tin' h'rt," including her tongue, which felt numb.

"Gerlod was here to look you over, and he says you shall be fine. You are a smart lass, Juno," his words were slow and measured, but fury bubbled underneath. "Or so I thought because I did not teach a bloody imbecile! Oh, why must the Blacks be cursed so with such prideful morons! Do you at least know how badly you fucked up?"

All she could do while trying to fight the tears in her eyes was nod; her grand-uncle despised crying.

"I shall spell it out for you," he huffed. "First, you got goaded into a fight by mere words. Second, you agreed to a wizarding duel on the bloody spot when you were exhausted before more than a dozen witnesses. And Merlin's bollocks, why would you try and play fair when the odds were against you?! I taught you better than that…"

At this moment, Juno Lestrange wanted to bury herself in her bed and disappear. The shouting didn't hurt even half as much as the look of profound disappointment. Her insides twisted into a painful knot; Aunt Cass would be no less disappointed, and she took failure even worse.

"It's not too bad, at least - I have salvaged House Black from worse. I can use this to kick Augusta Longbottom from the board of the governors and install Reginald Carrow in her stead," Arcturus uttered through a clenched jaw, though he seemed to be speaking to himself more than her.

"House Black might have dwindled in the last few years, but we can still make life hard for the Longbottoms. I will have to call in some favours and debts, make some threats, and dig out some skeletons from the closets, and they shall see not only their influence but their business chipped away. I could have gone to Cuffe and made out the cretin boy a deranged bloodthirsty lunatic if you didn't lose so pathetically-"

Her head pulsed again painfully. Too tired to deal with this, Juno Lestrange closed her eyes and drifted into the sweet embrace of sleep.

Author's endnote:

Hol' up, why's magic so dangerous?

Featuring: Neville 'I might have fitted well in Slytherin' Longbottom, Juno 'Pride Comes Before the Fall' Lestrange, Albus 'I am seriously considering retirement soon' Dumbledore, and Arcturus 'fuck this bloody hypocrite' Black.

Why is Neville so capable? Well, he's not that good or anything; he's just far, far more motivated than he was in canon, and he did get to change his wand after the teacher's meeting last month. Instead of visiting his parents, who were driven insane but nothing more than empty shells, he got to see their graves instead. And obviously, Juno is an easy target to hate in his particular circumstance. Hate is the crucial boost that made Nevill's knockback jinx stronger than expected.

Editor's note: At the end of the day, these are 11-year-olds who just had a school spat. A magical school spat, yet nothing that adults would take seriously. I'm sure everyone had fond memories of cracking skulls and breaking bones when they were in school.

P.S. My editor's school seems far more hardcore than my own. *Shrugs* Although, to be fair, many things in Hogwarts are far more brutal and were considered/accepted as normal…

I update a chapter every two weeks! You can find me on my discord(dgj93pNeAD), where you can read ahead or simply come chat or ask me or others some questions.