A/N:
Hi, new chapter!
Woah! Sorry for the entire month delay between chapters, three entire chapters got the deletement treatment before I started this one yesterday. I think I'm in a better place to write now, so I'll try to get going faster on the next one!
Thanks for reading as always, and feel free to comment/like/fav/subscribe/kudo/flame/whatever :)
In the first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson back from winter break, the combined classes of Gryffindor and Slytherin found themselves in a room devoid of chairs and tables. Instead, one long dueling lane filled the floor.
As the students filed in, confused but interested, Professor Alastor Moody paced the lane.
"I've decided that the current curriculum is too theoretical!" he declared loudly once most of the class had arrived. "And when you find yourself in a dark alleyway late at night, you won't be able to defend yourself against assailants by throwing your test scores at them!"
He said that last sentence with enthusiastic gusto, and Harry noticed Hermione flinch a bit.
"For that reason," he continued, "we will be placing a greater emphasis on practical combat this semester – we'll start by evaluating everyone's skill levels by way of a single-elimination dueling tournament!"
The class devolved into excited whispers at that, and a student towards the back of the room raised his hand.
"Um, excuse me professor?" he asked in a nasally voice, pushing up his glasses. "But mightn't a tournament like this potentially lead to injury of the involved parties?"
"Maybe, but who cares!" Alastor yelled with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's better to get some bruises today than be bleeding out on a street corner in Knockturn Alley tomorrow!"
The kid winced at the mental image and lowered his hand.
"Now, the tournament will start on two sides," Moody explained, scrawling brackets on the blackboard with his wand. "The Slytherins and the Gryffindors. Once the victor of each house is determined, they will face each other for the title of class champion. Needless to say, no one will receive a higher grade this semester than the champion."
The furrow in Hermione's brow deepened as the man continued to explain the rules of the tournament and how they applied to the course. Apparently, midterm grades would correspond directly to the place the student took in the next dueling tournament, which would be held two months from now.
"But sir," Hermione said once he was finished, raising her hand. "That isn't fair. If a student gets matched up against a particularly strong opponent in their first round, they'll get a lower grade than-"
"LIFE ISN'T FAIR!" Moody bellowed, whipping his head around with more speed and force than ought to be safe. "AND WHEN YOU'RE WALKING DOWN SCARY TERRY LANE, TERRY WON'T CARE IF IT'S AN UNFAVORABLE MATCHUP FOR YOU! HE'LL TAKE EVERY LAST KNUT ON YOUR PERSON AND THEN SELL YOUR ORGANS TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER!"
Everyone stared up at the man in shock, even though Moody's outbursts weren't particularly surprising to them by their sixth year at Hogwarts.
A moment later, the mania left the man's eyes, and he sat down to recover his breath.
"Listen, kids," he panted, speaking in a softer voice this time. "It's my duty to prepare you for what's out there, and in a world like ours, anything can be out there. If I need to ransom your precious grades to encourage you to learn to protect yourselves, I'm not going to lose any sleep over it."
The class settled down at this, and even Hermione seemed reluctantly placated. At the end of the day, they all knew that Alastor was only hard on them because he cared about them, and he was correct in thinking that the added stakes would push the students to take the tournament more seriously.
Moody might be more than a bit unhinged, but no one could deny he was an effective Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
"Now, let's get on with the tournament!" he said, clapping his hands and rising from his chair. "Today will be the preliminary contest, to give you all an idea of where you need to improve and who you'll need to beat for the next one. Those at the bottom should strive to do better, and those at the top should do whatever it takes to stay there."
Moody split the class into two halves based on their house, and started forming pairings on his blackboard. As Hermione had said, there were inevitably some power mismatches, but all things considered Harry thought the brackets looked fairly balanced so far.
Harry himself had a relatively strong degree of confidence that he could clear his first few opponents with ease, and glanced over at Daphne to see if she was thinking the same. She met his eyes expressionlessly and blinked, which he was pretty sure meant 'I will effortlessly wipe the floor with anyone who dares stand against me' in Daphne.
"We'll start with the Gryffindors!" Professor Moody said, finishing up with his table. "The first match will be Ronald Weasley versus Hermione Granger!"
The students gave a cheer as the two lions took to the stage, many making their preference in winner vocal. Ron, being the much more popular student, got the majority of cheers.
"Go Weasley!"
"Take her down, Ron!"
"Do this for me, Won-Won!"
Ron grinned bashfully at the crowd as he got into position. Looking across at Hermione, he gave her an apologetic shrug.
"It's nothing personal, 'Mione," he said. "But I can't let you beat me in the first round. I have a reputation to maintain, you know."
Hermione just stared at him with her eyes narrowed, not bothering to reply. She had never been particularly fond of the flippant boy, nor his overly casual nicknames for her.
"On my count, be ready to fight!" Moody called. "Remember – disarm, stun, or otherwise incapacitate your opponent, but no killing or maiming is allowed!"
He glanced one more time between the two students to make sure they were ready before raising his wand.
"Three, two, one…duel!"
A whistling sound emitted from the professor's wand, and the match began.
"Stupefy!"
A whistling sound emitted from the professor's wand, and the match ended.
Everyone looked in shock as Ron fell to the floor with a loud thud before he even had the chance to raise his wand in defense. Hermione gave the boy's inanimate form a satisfied little smirk, and Harry shook his head with a sigh.
Somewhere, Lavender Brown cried out in anguish.
"And that's the end of the first duel!" Alastor declared, using his wand to levitate Ron off the stage and into Lavender's arms. "Let that be a lesson to you all not to underestimate your opponent!"
There were scattered cheers from the crowd as Hermione descended the stairs to the floor, and she walked over to Harry a little sheepishly.
"Should I have gone easier on him?" she asked as she approached. "I feel a bit bad now…"
Harry shook his head. "Better to rip the band-aid off quickly. I'm not sure where he got all that confidence from at the beginning of the match…"
From the other side of the floor, Daphne looked at the stunned Ronald pityingly.
Printing Thought Sequence: He should really just stick to cooking.
Harry watched nervously as a few rounds later, his girlfriend rose to the dueling platform to face Vincent Crabbe. He had no doubt that Daphne could handle Crabbe, but the boy had a reputation for playing unfairly, and he felt his heart rate accelerate nevertheless as the two stood across from each other.
As before, Moody made sure the two students were ready before starting his count. With a nod from both students, he raised his wand in the air.
"Three, two, o-"
Before Alastor could finish his count, Crabbe jumped forwards with a vicious grin, flourishing his wand at Daphne.
"Afflicto!"
Harry felt his heart leap out of his chest as the curse (a rather nasty one at that) flew prematurely at his girlfriend. If it landed, not only did it have the potential to seriously harm Daphne, but it would likely reveal her robotic secret to the whole school.
But that was only if it landed, and Daphne wasn't about to let that happen.
She parried the curse with an efficient flick of her wand, sending the dangerous light spinning harmlessly to the ground. In the same fluid motion, she brought her wand back up and threw a spell of her own at the boy.
"Ack!" he cried.
Daphne's spell hit Vincent square in the legs, and he promptly tripped over himself as his feet were frozen together in a block of ice. His wand flew out of his grasp as he fell, and despite his pitiful efforts, he couldn't crawl over to it in time before her next spell did the same to his hands.
The whistle emitted from Moody's wand, and whether it was to start or end the match, the duel was already over.
"Our winner is Daphne Greengrass!" he called, a wide grin on his face. "Displaying both inhuman reaction times and machine-like magical control!"
Everyone cheered, and more than one voice sounded from the crowd.
"Professor, Crabbe cheated!"
"He started too early!"
"Disqualify him!"
The grizzled ex-auror turned his smile to the class. "Actually, I commend young Vincent's initiative. There are no rules in a real fight, and sometimes playing dirty is the only way to win."
Crabbe looked up at Moody hopefully from the floor.
"HOWEVER!" Moody shouted, "THERE ARE RULES IN MY FIGHTS, AND I SAID NO MAIMING!" He looked down at Crabbe dispassionately. "You'll spend the rest of the class with your extremities encased in ice so the message sinks in."
Daphne walked calmly off the stage while Crabbe was carried down by his friends. She noticed Harry staring at her in her peripheral vision, and when she turned to look at him, she was pretty sure she saw hearts in his eyes.
Possible Emotion Detected: Anxiety
Printing Thought Sequence: My estimations predict a 98.6% chance of a decisive victory in favor of Harry, but what if I exist in the 1.4% timeline?
For his first opponent Harry was squared off against Parvati Patil, who while not quite as good as her sister, was a decent duelist in her own right. Harry should've still stood leagues above her, but anything could happen in a duel and Daphne knew her boyfriend wouldn't try to pull any shameless tactics like Crabbe had.
"Three, two, one…duel!"
At the sound of the whistle, both students raised their wands.
"Expelliarmus!"
"Protego!"
An instant before Harry could get his disarming spell off, Parvati summoned a shield to block it.
Printing Thought Sequence: How clever. Patil knew Harry would go for a direct attack, so she prepared to cast a shield before the round had even begun. Clever, but not quite clever enough.
While Parvati's prediction had been correct, and likely would've served her well against other opponents, it didn't mean much against Harry's magic. Instead of dissolving against her shield as spells were meant to do, Harry's charm broke through it like a cannonball through a wall of glass, shattering the shield and sending Parvati's wand flying out of her hand.
"Our winner is Harry Potter!" Moody called, sounding the whistle. "Who showed us that sometimes tactless might is sufficient against a weaker defense!"
There was applause from the crowd as the students stepped off, but Harry got his share of jeers as well. Parvati was a popular girl, and it wasn't very satisfying to watch Harry blow her away with the brute force of his magic alone.
"Oh, come on," he muttered as he rejoined his spot next to Hermione. "This is just what works for me…"
Hermione patted him on the back, and the two sat down to watch the rest of the first round in peace.
While there were standouts, several of the first two rounds of the tournament were settled with quick victories. The sixth-years weren't slouches by any means, but they weren't all duelists and those with experience tended to easily handle the ones without. Harry and Daphne took quick wins against Dean and Blaise respectively, and Hermione beat Miranda after a short scuffle.
Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson both put on compelling performances in their matches, and breath was bated as they faced each other in the quarter-final. The decisive blow came when Pansy cast a charm on Draco which was supposed to cause him to temporarily fall in love with her, thus crushing his will to fight, but after being hit he shrugged it off and disarmed her.
It was only later, after several hours of confusion, that she realized her love charm wasn't effective on boys of Draco's particular orientation.
"And now for the semi-final Gryffindor match!" Moody called, cleaning off the dueling lane after the last fight. "Harry Potter and Hermione Granger!"
Harry and Hermione gave each other solemn nods, both knowing that their friendship could survive the oncoming duel, but regretting it nonetheless.
Hermione had used her extensive knowledge of spells and counterspells to win her previous matches, and Harry had pushed through with overwhelming magical force. It was expected to be a close fight, and the spectating students got excited as the two took position on either ends of the lane.
Possible Emotion Detected: Conflicted
Printing Thought Sequence: I do not want Harry to lose, but I do not want Hermione to lose either. I would prefer Harry to win, but if he does, I will have to face him in the final round after trouncing Malfoy. In this case, is it better if Hermione wins?
Daphne watched with trepidation as her only friend and only boyfriend assumed dueling stances in front of the class. Professor Moody raised his wand, and after a short countdown, the signifying whistle blew.
Harry jumped into action the moment he heard the whistle.
"Expelliarmus!" he said.
Hermione cast the correct counterspell, dispelling the charm before it could reach her.
"Stupefy!" he said.
Again, Hermione cast the counterspell, sending the stunner harmlessly to the floor.
"Petrificus Totalus!" he said.
Again.
For over a minute, Harry continued his relentless onslaught of spells against Hermione, but she blocked each one with the corresponding counter. Unlike Parvati's shield, Hermione's counterspells were specifically tailored to his and thus much more efficient, allowing her to fend off Harry's attacks despite the difference in strength.
As the heated match continued, the crowd got livelier and livelier.
"Potter can't break through Hermione's defense!"
"Go Granger! You can do this!"
"Don't lose against the wench that hurt my Won-Won, Harry!"
Daphne quietly watched the duel, following the spells with her eyes in a way that only a robot could. While the average spectator might believe that Hermione had the upper hand, the details told a different story. Hermione was expertly blocking all of Harry's spells, but his energetic offensive wasn't leaving her any room to send spells of her own back at him. And though she knew the counter to even Harry's most obscure spells, her once-lively defense was starting to slow down as her magical energy depleted.
Printing Thought Sequence: Hermione will have to act soon if she wants to win. If she waits any longer she will be too tired to muster a proper attack.
As Daphne had predicted, Hermione struck a few seconds later. Harry had just cast an incarcerous spell, conjuring magical ropes to tie Hermione up and leave her defenseless, but this time she didn't bother with the counterspell. Instead, she allowed it through, using the split-second opportunity before it hit to launch her desperate attempt for victory.
"Depulso!"
Hermione's spell flew through the air, and Daphne traced its path to Harry with anxious attention. Even if Hermione was caught in Harry's ropes, if she managed to blow him off the stage first it would be her win.
"Oop!"
At the last second, a wide-eyed Harry barely slipped out of the path of the spell, causing it to hit the wall behind him with an audible crash.
I have six years of quidditch practice to thank for that one, Harry thought.
He turned back to Hermione, who's own attempt to dodge his spell hadn't fared as well as his. By some miracle she was still standing as she tried to wriggle free from the ropes, so he muttered a quick apology before regretfully raising his wand.
With one final spell and the whistle of Moody's wand, Harry was declared the victor of Gryffindor.
"Ugh, I hope I still got a good grade for that," Hermione said to Harry once they were back in their seats.
"I'm sure you will," he said. "You were in the top four of the entire class."
Harry still felt a bit guilty, but he was glad Hermione wasn't holding a grudge.
"Yeah, well I might've won the whole thing if it weren't for your ridiculous stamina," she muttered.
Well, he was glad she wasn't holding too much of a grudge.
The final Slytherin match was between Draco and Daphne, which left Harry in a slightly difficult position. His girlfriend and his childhood friend had a rocky relationship at the best of times, and he wasn't sure what might happen during this duel. He would of course be rooting for Daphne, but he knew Draco was a strong duelist and he didn't want to see either of them get hurt.
Also, he just really wanted them to get along, and he was hoping this duel wouldn't exacerbate their already present issues.
"Three, two, one…duel!"
On Moody's whistle, both Daphne and Draco raised their wands, but neither cast a spell. Both students had a counter-attacking style, and so they stared each other down as they kept light on their feet, waiting for the other to strike.
"..."
"..."
The hushed silence of the crowd slowly devolved into confused whispers as the two students stared at each other for over a minute, unmoving and unblinking.
"What are they doing?" Hermione asked eventually, leaning over to Harry.
"They're having a mental battle, I think."
"He's mine!" Little Daphne yelled, pulling Plushy Harry's arms.
"No, he's mine!" Little Draco yelled, pulling Plushy Harry's legs.
For some reason, Daphne and Draco's mental battle manifested in the form of two miniaturized versions of themselves fighting over a toy. Neither had the desire to introspect and find out what that meant, so they just tugged on Plushy Harry until they were blue in the face.
"I got to him first!" Little Daphne yelled, sticking her tongue out at Little Draco.
"Well I knew him first!" Little Draco yelled back.
As they played tug-of-war over Plushy Harry's little plushy body, his threads started to strain. They both glanced down at the same time to see one of Plushy Harry's buttons pop, and a small tear formed in his stomach.
Little Daphne looked up to see if Little Draco would let go, but he showed no signs of easing up the pressure. Finally, with a sad sigh, Little Daphne released her grasp on Plushy Harry. She couldn't bear to lose him, but continuing to hurt him would be even worse.
Little Draco stumbled backwards, clutching Plushy Harry in his arms.
"Aha!" he said. "I've won! He's all mine!"
Little Draco looked down happily at his prize, but a moment later, Plushy Harry started to vanish before his very eyes.
"What? I don't understand," Little Draco said, grasping at the air. "Where did he go?"
A moment later, the face of a pretty, middle-aged redhead appeared in the sky.
"Harry is not a toy to be fought over," she said in a motherly voice. "If you truly loved Harry, you would have let him go when you saw the damage you were causing."
Little Draco looked up at the face in the sky. "What? You mean I was harming Harry by clinging to him so desperately?"
Little Daphne held up Plushy Harry for Little Draco to see, and he noticed the stuffing pouring out of the cut in his body. He passively wondered how Plushy Harry had ended up in Little Daphne's hands.
"I think I get it now," Little Draco said sadly. "And I'm sorry. I still have much to learn."
The crowd gasped as Draco took a knee on the dueling platform, admitting defeat before a single spell had been cast.
"Daphne Greengrass wins by forfeit!" Moody declared. "Demonstrating the importance of mental fortitude in a fight!"
A couple of people clapped, but most just looked at the stage, stunned, as the two students walked off.
"Draco looks weirdly enlightened, don't you think?" Hermione said to Harry.
"Yeah, he sort of does…"
After the initial confusion of Daphne and Draco's anticlimactic duel, the buzz around the room started to pick back up as the stage was cleared for the final fight. Not only would this surely be an epic showdown between Gryffindor's King of Power and Slytherin's Queen of Control, but it also had some extra dramatic flair since the competitors were dating.
"Well, this is you," Hermione said, pushing Harry forward. "Er, good luck."
"Thanks, Hermione…"
Before the duel could begin, Harry met up with Daphne at the bottom of the stage. In hindsight, it was sort of obvious that this would be the final pairing, but he had still been hoping it wouldn't come to this.
"Well this sucks," he said to her. "What do we do now?"
"I do not know," Daphne replied. "I do not think I can find it in myself to hurt you."
"Same here…"
Harry considered for a moment before coming up with an idea. "I know!" he said. "Why don't we add our own stakes?"
"I am interested, but what are you suggesting?"
"Hm…" he thought. "What if the loser has to do any one thing the winner tells them to?"
One of the wires in Daphne's brain short-circuited.
"Anything?" she clarified.
Harry nodded. "Sure. I mean, neither of us would do anything to hurt the other, so I think it's safe to say anything."
Daphne's robotic heart started to pound in simulated excitement. "And you will not rescind this offer when I win?"
Harry narrowed his eyes. "No, but you don't have to worry about that either way. I'm going to be the one to win."
"We will see about that, Harry. I find myself quite motivated at the moment."
Moody glanced over at them and yelled. "Enough dawdling you two! Get up here and fight!"
They both nodded and headed to their respective ends of the dueling lane. The hype around the room had risen to feverish levels, several cheering the name of their preferred fighter, and all looking forward to the bloodbath that would ensue.
"And here's the final match!" Alastor shouted once they arrived. "The one that will decide the class champion! Harry Potter of Gryffindor versus Daphne Greengrass of Slytherin!"
Everyone cheered, their own losses long since forgotten in their excitement for the coming match. Both Harry and Daphne were notoriously strong, and many wanted to know who came out on top in that particular power couple.
"Go Harry! Don't show her any mercy!"
"Show the Gryffindors what we can do, Daphne!"
"Fight! Fight! Fight!"
Harry and Daphne faced each other down from across the dueling lane, neither wanting to fight but neither allowed to lose. In that moment, Harry knew he would try his best to defeat Daphne, and based on the fire he could see in her eyes, she felt the same way.
"Are the duelists ready?" Moody called.
They nodded.
"Very well!"
They got into position.
"Three, two, o-"
Ding-Dong!
Every single body in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom froze simultaneously, looking up at the clock on the wall.
Class was over.
"Oh well," Professor Moody said with a disappointed sigh. "Nothing for it, I suppose. I guess we'll have two winners for today. Class dismissed!"
A/N:
Teehee XD
I wonder who would've won though, for real? Lemme know!