DEFEND YOUR HOUSE'S HONOR with a playful magical contest; 10+: You succeed and impress a participant or witness. Gain a FRIEND or a FAVOR.

⚅⚂ +2 CUNNING=11.

Sporting a manic smile on your face, you draw your yew wand with such a sudden flick that it springs back and forth. "Oh, but you have not heard - the witches of my family never give their charms to a man unless he proves a worthy opponent in combat," you say, causing both of Bertie's eyebrows to shoot up. "Whether you meant it or not, I take your words as a challenge... MASCARA!"

Falling back with a gasp, Bertie put his hand up to his face, confirming his suspicions: his face was now smeared with rouge, his lips covered with bright red lipstick. Rings of heavy eyeshadow and eyeliner complete his ensemble. "Oh so THAT'S how it'll be? Well tally ho, then - heeere comes the mustache spell..." He took aim at you and you gasped. A moustache flew towards you - you tried to block it with your wand and it adhered to the surface. The second fake mustache strikes you right on the mark, adhering to your upper lip. Each of your next few spells was hindered by infectious laughter.

In the hands of young witches and wizards, during moments of dark emotion a wand could be a weapon. In normal circumstances, they were just a hyper-useful, hyper-temperamental tool, like a hammer that would turn you into a potted plant if you swung it wrong instead of break your thumb. But when the mood was light, a wand often served as an amusing toy. Young magicians at Boarbristle naturally fell into patterns of having playful battles with them - more like a food fight than dueling, with throwing very minor effects and conjurations at one another just for a bit of a laugh. Streams of ice-water, live animals, sneezing powder... and actual food. The possibilities were endless.

As it turned out, you and Berthold ended up cycling through quite a few of those in your ensuing spell-fight. Nothing that could inflict serious harm or embarrassment... though the poor fellow's room suffered quite a bit of collateral damage, ending up with far too many pillows, mustard stains on the walls, and little birds fluttering everywhere.

Suddenly assuming an air of quiet dignity, Berthold laid down his wand and took a knee. "Though the battle be yet undecided, I yield, great sorceress, lest nothing remain of that which I sought to protect, come the time I prevailed." he says, re-purposing some hoary old historical quote from a sore loser of a wizard to amusing effect.

Wiping some of the 'fallout' off of yourself and sinking down against a dresser, you shake your head. "Oh... perhaps, in hindsight, I was a bit too aggressive... I'm really sorry about what happened to that lovely porcelain catoblepas figurine of yours..."

"Oh stop," he says with a chuckle, "Not an antique or any such thing, just a cheap trinket I bought off a goblin and use to hide my ciggies in. See?" he nudged at a few of the little white cylinders. The prefect has an irrational bloody aversion to 'em... " He smirks and starts tidying some of the mess up with a broom, not wanting to risk a miscast with a bunch of spells already cast.

"Besides," he says, handing you a dustpan, which you reluctantly accept, "I had it coming, acting like I was sharking on you like that. Didn't mean anything by it really."

You give him a little elbow. "Ohhhhhhh. Do not apologize, I recall I was making a few eyes at you the first time we met. Merely, I think we get along so well that I worry that, well, banging you would complicate things and mess up a good dynamic. Let's keep things the way they are, for now."

"Abso-bloody-lutely right." he nods and rubs his hands. "Besides, I ought to be saving up for the main event, don't want to end up a dried out husk before it's half over!" You shake your head and snicker "You mean, halfway through your first partner...? Hah. But speaking of which - you know what you have to do, right? Get your professor of magical beast-taming to help us find a suitable impersonator for the star polo player. I'm not missing my chance to show off in front of everyone, incluing the Housemaster. Promise whatever you have to. You'll be doing me a real favor as a friend."

He slowly nods. You smirk and then add, in a deadpan voice, "Also, I caught up with my friend Miss Teung, who you got 'introduced' to as a favor by me. She said that her period is late."

That draws a sharp intake of breath and a lurch of shock from him. You close your eyes and stick your tongue out. "I'm only kidding, nyehehehee! Probably!"

He huffs as you turn away to sweep up a corner, planning your next move. Bertie gives a sigh of relief and an exasperated grunt. "Oh, you corking.... Bahh. Hahah."

Only one real obstacle remained: your actual classwork, which you were just a smidge behind on with your current hedonistic streak. You'd need to do some catch-up.

Gain a new GOAL (moderate, diligence): Complete your mid-term trials of magical skills and knowledge.

Bertie is now a 'FRIEND' (and thereby some insurance in case another party prep goal fulfillment roll flops).