The Midnight Duels

The great thing about having a private room in the Slytherin dorms is that you didn’t have to pretend to be asleep as the hour got later. You reclined on your bed still fully clothed in your Hogwarts uniform. After taking some time for reflection, you ultimately decided to keep Professor Quirrell’s strange behavior to yourself. This was the second stutter-free altercation you’d had with the Defense professor and for the most part it seemed like he was curious and trying to help you. You’d hold your tongue about his strange behavior until you found out that he was doing something dangerous.

You also decided that you weren’t going to use the charged version of the Stinging Jinx or rather the Stinging Hex that Professor Quirrell had taught you. As much as Ron Weasley annoyed you at times, you still didn’t want to use that hex on a living breathing person after seeing what it had done to that desk.

Draco returned to the room a half past ten.

“Did you learn your curse?” you asked.

“It took a while, but yes, I did,” he said with a wide, all too pleased grin. “I got Marcus Flint to help me.”

“What curse is it?” you inquired.

“We’ll let Potter find that out the hard way,” Draco said with a wicked leer. “But it’s a good one. And it can’t be broken unless someone uses the counter-curse.”

Well, if he wasn’t going to tell you about the curse then you weren’t going to tell him about Harry and Ron reading Curses and Counter-Curses in the library.

“I learned another jinx,” you informed him. He probably wouldn’t believe you if you told him that you’d learned it from Professor Quirrell. But there was a part of the strange lesson that you could brag about. “Also, Professor Quirrell saw me researching spells that were beyond the current curriculum and he gave me a house point for it. That brings my personal total up to seventeen. If house points were sickles I could exchange mine for a galleon.” You had since added the point to your ledger.

Malfoy scowled. He still hadn’t earned any house points yet. “No one likes a showoff, Gaunt.”

You shook your head at the extremely hypocritical statement coming from such a boastful braggart. “So… Marcus Flint helped you learn a curse. Are you friends with him or something?”

“My father’s an old friend of his father,” Draco pompously informed you. “So it was a simple matter of calling in a family favor.”

Marcus Flint was the Slytherin Quidditch Captain. You remembered your earlier conversation with Madam Hooch about trying out for the Quidditch team. Perhaps you could rope Draco into your plan to tryout? If his family was close to Flint’s then he’d be more likely to allow you to tryout as a first year if you both attended together. You hadn’t gotten to see Draco fly and he still needed to pass the Remedial Flying Lesson before Madam Hooch would allow him to try out. So you decided to put that plan on the backburner since tonight’s duel was a more immediate concern.

You waited for another hour before you decided it was time to go. You and Draco snuck out of your room and were pleased to see that the common room was empty.

“Let’s move quickly,” you whispered to your companion as you worked your way to the door. “Our Astronomy class was at midnight last night. There’s a chance that some older students could be leaving sometime soon for theirs. And keep an eye out for the prefects.”

You stole your way out of the dungeon and then crept up the marble staircase. It was a welcome relief to see that the portraits you passed along the way were sleeping. You moved silently and kept your eyes peeled for any sign of movement as you made your way up to the third floor. Every ominous shadow could have been concealing a prefect, a professor or worst of all the child-hating caretaker Filch.

“There it is…” Draco quietly pointed out the doorway to the Trophy Room ahead. You darted inside and when you saw that the room was empty you finally started to breathe again.

You sighed in relief, “We made it. Now we just need to wait for Potter and Weasley.”

Thankfully, you were now in the Trophy Room and there was plenty to see. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. You glanced from one doorway to the other. Both remained unmoving. Still no sign of Harry and Ron. They weren’t cowards. Had something held them up?

“I guess we’ve got time to spare,” you mused. You turned your attention to the various trophies. An award for special services to the school caught your eye. You frowned as you read the familiar name that was engraved on it.

‘Tom Riddle’

Tom Riddle… the son of your Great Aunt Merope Gaunt and a muggle aristocrat Tom Riddle. And, as you had learned from using your Serpent’s Gaze on one of the Ministry officials, the eventual Dark Lord Voldemort.

You shook your head and continued along the rows of crystal trophy cases. You saw that infamous name again on a list of former Head Boys. ‘James Potter’ was also listed among them.

Finally, you came to an award called the Medal of Magical Merit and scanned the recipients. This time four of the names stood out.

‘Tom Riddle’

‘Frank Longbottom’

‘Lily Evans’

‘William Weasley’

The door opened and you turned to see Harry creep into the room followed by Ron. They were both wearing bathrobes and pajamas. Harry’s was red and a couple sizes too big for him. Ron’s was maroon and seemed to be an old hand-me-down with frayed sleeves.

“Look who finally showed up,” Malfoy sneered. “Nice bathrobes. You look like real wizards now. Real stupid ones, anyway.” Harry and Ron glared at him.

“Potter, was your mother Lily Evans?” you asked as a greeting. “There’s a medal she won over here. Weasley, it looks like one of your brothers did too.”

You blinked in surprise when you saw Neville Longbottom slip in through the open door. Unlike Harry and Ron, he was dressed in his Hogwarts uniform.

“Longbottom? What’re you doing here?” you wondered.

Longbottom stared sheepishly at his feet. “I fell asleep in the hospital wing… probably because of that Calming Draught… and then I forgot the password to get back into the common room...”

“OH!” you gasped in sudden realization. “Was that what you forgot to do this morning when your Remembrall turned red? Did you forget to write the password down somewhere?” You learned about Longbottom's Remembrall back at breakfast. It had been a long day and it seemed like that had happened ages ago. But you had pretty good mental recall.

Longbottom blinked in surprise. “That… could’ve been it…”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, your father won one of these medals too,” you informed him as you motioned to the awards. “Potter, did you get Longbottom his Remembrall back?”

Harry looked over at Longbottom, “It’s on the table next to your bed.”

But it turned out there was one more Gryffindor along for the late-night romp. Hermione Granger walked into the trophy room wearing a pink bathrobe.

“Granger!?”

“I was trying to stop them,” Granger admitted, “But I got locked out of the common room.”

You noticed that Harry and Ron were none-too-pleased with the bossy muggleborn girl’s interference. “Keep in mind if you had, Draco and I would’ve taken great joy in telling everyone that we showed up and those two brave Gryffindors chickened out.”

Ron shot Granger a nasty glare. This explained why your opponents had nearly been late.

Malfoy eyed the four Gryffindors then looked over at you. “They outnumber us two-to-one. Should we have brought Crabbe and Goyle?”

“Do you really expect those two to be of use in a duel?” you retorted, “I mean, other than to hide behind and take spellfire?”

Draco tilted his head and nodded to acknowledge your point, “Let’s get this over with then.”

“Right, Weasley, we’re up first,” you stated as you stepped away from the display case and backed up into the middle of the room which was a wide open area. “Potter, watch closely so you can see how it’s done. Granger, Longbottom, stay out of the way.”

“Wait… you’re actually going to do this in here?” Granger protested.

“Would you prefer we do it out in the hallway where we could get caught?” you retorted. “Oh, or maybe we can duel in the Forbidden Corridor where we could all suffer a most horrific ****?”

Granger huffed. “I’m just saying that you could break something. This room is filled with relics and trophies that represent this school’s history. You’re the one who made a big deal about honoring tradition. This is no place for you to be recklessly shooting off spells.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Granger,” Malfoy scoffed. “If something breaks, we’ll be long gone before anyone finds out and then one of the professors can use magic to fix it.”

“How responsible of you, Malfoy,” Harry remarked.

“Let’s hurry up and get on with this,” you suggested. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can leave without getting caught. Remember the rules, Weasley, it’s one-on-one - that means no interference. And it’s wands only - so that means no physical contact.” You smirked at Harry but made sure to watch Ron out of the corner of your eye. “Don’t worry. I’ll end this quickly.”

Sure enough, Ron went red. He drew his wand and pointed it at you as he walked into the middle of the room and stood across from you. “We’ll see how smug you look when the duel’s over.” Ron and Harry shared a grin at Ron’s comment which probably had something to do with the spell they‘d studied in Curses and Counter-Curses.

Potter, Granger, and Longbottom stepped back out of the way. Harry was casting wary glances at Draco who had stepped off to the side on your half of the room. Granger folded her arms across her chest and wore an expression which clearly showed that she thought the whole thing was stupid. Longbottom was still trying to figure out what was going on.

“Ready, Weasley?” you prompted as you drew your wand. “It’s a tradition to start a duel with a bow.” You tilted forward and executed a quick bow which Ron returned. You turned so you were standing sideways like Gemma Farley had taught you. Ron seemed to see the benefit of your stance and copied it. “Longbottom, you’re a somewhat neutral party. Count us down from three.”

You remembered some advice Kingsley Shacklebolt had given you about dueling. It wasn’t about knowing a lot of spells. It was knowing when to use them. You had already decided not to use the charged Stinging Hex. But the Stinging Jinx had a benefit that would work in your favor.

Longbottom blinked at being included, “Er… three… two… one…”

Your wand was already extended so you only had to twist it as you called out, “Pungo!”

At the same time, Ron swung his wand upward while doing a swish to his right, “Furnunculus!”

The benefit of the Stinging Jinx was that it was way quicker to cast. Your wand motion was a simple twist while Ron’s was a much more elaborate swing and swish. Also, your incantation was only two syllables versus Ron’s four. That ultimately meant you got your spell off first.

“AAH!” Ron yelped as the white light from your spell struck his shoulder. Your quick spell gave you an extra half a second to weave back so that the gold light from Ron’s spell whizzed right by your face and splashed harmlessly against the far wall.

You followed up with another Stinging Jinx. “Pungo!”

Ron let out another high-pitched yelp and dropped his wand as your spell stung his hand.

Point and twist. “Pungo!”

Your third Stinging Jinx caught Ron flush in the forehead and left behind a red welt as he flinched back from the stinging pain.

Malfoy laughed loudly, “Nice welt, Weasley! Now you and Potter have matching scars!”

Harry glared at him while Ron’s face went red as he forgot about his wand and charged you.

“Weasley! It’s no contact!” you called out as a warning. But he still came barreling towards you. You needed to scare him off so you quickly swished your wand upward and then back down like you were drawing a flame. “Incendio!”

A fiery jet shot from your wand and hit the corner of Ron’s maroon bathrobe.

“WAAAH!” Ron shrieked in alarm and staggered back in shock as his robe caught fire.

“RON!” Harry shouted in alarm.

You gave your wand a downward wave then seamlessly transitioned into an upward wave, “Aguamenti!”

A thin, weak jet of water shot from your wand and doused the flames on Ron’s robe. Ron slipped in the small puddle your water had made which caused him to fall over. He rolled away back to his starting position.

“I’d say that’s my win,” you concluded as Ron was left lying damp on the floor.

“You set him on fire!” Granger shrieked in outrage.

“He charged me!” you argued.

“You set him on fire!” She seemed stuck on that point.

“Because he charged me!” you repeated. “You all heard me say the rules. He was going to break them. This was a Wizard’s duel, not a muggle fistfight.”

“You still set him on fire!” Granger insisted. “That was completely uncalled for!”

“Yeah? And what’s it to you?” you retorted. “Are you going to stand there flapping your yap? Or are you going to do something about it?”

“I want no part in this nonsense,” Granger stubbornly stated.

“Oh? Are you scared?” you goaded her. “Potions, flying, and now dueling. I guess this is yet another practical aspect of magic that I’m better at than you.”

A fire ignited in her eyes. “Fine,” she said. “Fine! I’ll put a stop to this...” The bushy-haired girl pulled her wand out of her pink bathrobe and made her way into the middle of the room and standing in front of Ron. She executed a very curt bow which you returned before she counted down. “Three… two… one…” Granger waved her wand then swung it to the side as she called out, “Petrificus To-”

Double swish. “Flipendo!” Bang!

You were trying for quick casting so you didn’t bother with the charged version. Not drawing out the first syllable of the incantation and not using the exaggerated first swish meant that the blue light from your Knockback Jinx struck Granger’s chest before she could even finish her long-winded incantation.

Time slowed down as Hermione Granger was knocked backward by your jinx. Her heels smacked into Ron’s side as he tried to get up behind her. This caused her legs to flip up and her pink robe to fall open. Draco probably saw the nightie she was wearing underneath but only you were in a position to see the flash of pink between her splayed legs before she crashed down to the floor on Ron’s other side. Thankfully, your experience with Gemma Farley made you much less embarrassed about this sight.

“That’s two wins for me,” you noted, “Nice knickers, Granger.”

The muggleborn girl let out an embarrassed squeak and curled up into a ball.

“That… that’s no way to treat a girl!”

You blinked in surprise and looked at Harry. He appeared to be highly aggravated but wasn’t the one who had spoken. You looked passed him and saw Neville Longbottom shakily pointing his wand at you.

“Wow…” you said, “Just wow. Did you finally grow a backbone, Longbottom? Maybe there’s a reason that the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor after all. Congratulations.” You made a show of clapping your hand on your wand. “But… you shouldn't point your wand at me unless you’re ready to use it.” Double swish. “Flipendo!” Bang!

Your jinx hit Longbottom and knocked him over before he could even think about casting a spell at you. You highly doubted that he even knew any. In addition to quick casting, another reason you had used the non-charged version of the Knockback Jinx was that the spell wasn’t as loud.

You turned to Harry, “That’s the preliminaries out of the way. Time for the finals.”

Malfoy smirked and seemed much more confident after watching you dispatch the three Gryffindors with relative ease. “Ready to lose like your friends, Potter?”

“I won’t lose,” Harry coolly replied. He walked over to Ron and helped him up then turned and offered his hand to Granger but she stood up her own and glared at him, then glared at Ron, and then glared at you and Draco for good measure. The only one who was spared her wrath was Neville.

“I can’t believe I got caught up in this nonsense,” she said. “Let’s just leave before this gets any worse.”

“No,” Harry adamantly refused. “This all started as a duel between me and Malfoy. Someone has to win so that Gryffindor House can regain some of its lost honor.”

You grinned, “Did you hear that, Granger? Potter was raised by muggles but he at least understands how house honor works. You’re up, Draco.”

You and your housemate changed places so that Draco was now standing across from Harry while you were off to the side leaning against a display case. The other three Gryffindors got out of the way too. Weasley was glaring at you. You returned the glare with a smirk. No one liked to lose. And he still had a welt on his forehead and another on the back of his hand as the consequences of his defeat. Granger’s face was pink like her robe and knickers and she looked like she was getting ready to leave on her own. Longbottom, however, was watching Harry with sudden interest.

Draco smirked at Harry. “Scared Potter?”

Harry drew his wand and stared him down without blinking, “You wish.”

“Both of you, bow,” you ordered. “It’s a tradition.” Their ‘bow’ looked like more of a nod. “Three… two-”

Draco started early and swung his wand down, swished it to the left then waved it to the right. “Locomotor Mortis!”

Harry ran forward and jumped over the low-flying purple light then swung his wand upward and swished it to the right like Ron had against you. “Furnunculus!” A gold light shot from Harry’s wand and struck the grinning Draco in the face.

“AAAHH!” Draco let out a high-pitched scream and dropped to the ground as boils broke out all over his pale face.

“Think boils and welts are funny, do you?” Harry asked. “I don’t see you laughing now.”

“Wow, Potter,” you remarked as you stepped closer to your wailing roommate as he rolled on the floor and clutched at his face. The Pimple Jinx. That was the spell that both Potter and Weasley had learned in just a few hours. “Hold a grudge much?”

Ron finally stopped glaring at you to laugh at Malfoy’s misfortune while Longbottom was looking at Harry with something akin to hero-worship in his eyes.

“I’m not done yet,” Harry announced as he pointed his wand at you.

You raised an eyebrow and squeezed your trusty ash and horned serpent core wand. “Are you sure you shouldn’t have been in Slytherin, Potter? That seems overly ambitious of you.”

“I hate bullies,” Harry said.

A bully? Is that what he thought you were? You issued a challenge and you won. You hadn’t cheated, you faced down Ron Weasley and you beat him. And then you goaded Granger into challenging you so that you could beat her too. Beating Longbottom didn’t really even count as a victory. Potter was just sore that his Gryffindor friends had lost. What was the point of learning these jinxes if you weren’t going to use them at some point? Mr. Ollivander had said that your unique horned serpent core wand was good for dueling. You were enjoying the chance to finally do that.

“Your boil-covered friend there got a taste of his own medicine," Harry continued, "Now it’s your turn. Professor Flitwick taught our class the Fire-Making Charm too. I’ll admit that I haven’t learned the Water-Making Charm yet but I reckon Hermione knows it. Maybe she’ll be willing to put you out?”

Maybe you had gone a little overboard with that Fire-Making Charm. But Ron's robe had only been on fire for a few seconds. It was meant to shock him into stopping. You put him out a few seconds later. You saw the look on Hermione Granger’s face and could tell that she did know the Water-Making Charm but also that if you happened to catch fire she wouldn’t be too eager or quick about putting it out.

“I’m not afraid of a challenge,” you said as you stepped over Draco, who was still on the ground clutching his boil-covered face. “Maybe you can make this interesting for me, Potter. One of us should run the Gaunt-let and go undefeated against the other house tonight.”

“You sure about this Harry?” Ron asked.

“I’ve got this, Ron,” Harry reassured him. “Count us down.”

You turned so you were standing sideways and did a quick bow which Harry returned.

Ron counted down, “Three… two… o--”

Reeoow!

Everything went quiet as you all immediately froze. You had been so caught up with your latest duel that you didn’t notice the door behind Harry drifting open.

Mrs. Norris was sitting in the open doorway glaring at the six of you. And wherever Mrs. Norris went, the child-hating caretaker Argus Filch wasn’t far behind.

“RUN!” Harry yelled.