On Tuesday, Lucifer and Hermione were bickering, girl complaining about her painful days.
Across the entrance hall, when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been thrown up.
Seamus and Dean beckoned them over, looking excited, "They're starting a Dueling Club!"
Dean also continued with Seamus, jumping on the floor, "First meeting is tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days..."
"Now that sounds exciting," Lucifer also said with great interest, "I overheard that Flitwick used to be quite the champion duelist before becoming a teacher here at Hogwarts...."
"Oh, that would be absolutely marvelous, being taught how to duel by a Champion!" Even Hermione now had something to distract her mind with, instead of the pain in the lower belly.
Dueling fever had swept through the entire school.
Everywhere Lucifer and Hermione went, they heard students arguing over which spell was most powerful, or strategizing about how to seize the upper hand in a duel.
Gryffindors especially were itching for the chance to fight. Their Quidditch team's defeat by Slytherin still stung, and here was their chance at redemption.
Even the professors weren't immune to the craze.... Their lessons shifted subtly, as though every subject had become an extension of 'Defense Against the Dark Arts.'
In Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall transformed books and teaching aids into small animals, setting them scampering across the desks.
"Do not think Transfiguration has no place in 'combat," she told the class sternly, "A master of this art is a duelist that no opponent wishes to face."
"Animals react far faster than humans," Professor McGonagall said crisply, her wand flicking with precision, "They can intercept fatal spells at 'crucial moments'---or, through Transfiguration, be used to restrain your opponent."
She pointed lightly at Neville. At once, the chair behind him sprouted two arms and clamped around his torso.
Neville gave a panicked yelp, thrashing so wildly he nearly toppled over. Fortunately, McGonagall released the chair in time to steady him.
"You see?" she said, lifting her chin. "Transfiguration in a duel is not only elegant---it is a mark of true tactical intelligence."
The class fell silent, eyes wide. Suddenly, atmosphere shifted; students who normally slouched through lectures now leaned forward eagerly, drinking in every word.
In Charms, Professor Flitwick grew nostalgic, recounting his glory days and many dueling championships he had won.
His voice, squeaky but full of pride, painted the scene vividly.
"My opponent was formidable, well-versed in spells, blessed with a perfect memory. I was pushed to the 'very brink'. Right up until the decisive moment, everyone was certain I would lose..."
"You must have used a very powerful spell, didn't you, Professor?" one student asked, eyes bright with curiosity.
"Of course not!" Flitwick tugged his tiny mustache, his expression gleeful, "I defeated him with nothing more than the 'Summoning Charm."
The students gaped. Fifth-years, all of them, they had mastered Summoning Charm last year. Could such a common spell really fell a seasoned duelist?
"I summoned a 'stone wall," Flitwick declared, hopping onto a pile of books so everyone could see him. His eyes twinkled, "A very large, very solid one. It skimmed the ground as it flew. I, being small in stature, simply crouched and avoided it. My opponent, however, was... less fortunate. He tried the same trick but---"
Flitwick grinned impishly, "---even crouching, he was taller than I am standing...."
The class winced as realization struck.
"Indeed. The wall struck him square on the head. He was knocked 'unconsciousinstantly', suffered a concussion, and needed quite a long rest before he recovered."
The room fell silent.
Flitwick chuckled at their dumbfounded expressions. "What's the matter? Disappointed by the lack of grandeur? Think it had no finesse?"
No one dared admit it aloud, though many silently agreed.
"You are falling into a 'trap," Flitwick told them gravely, shaking his head, "Dueling has never been about comparing spells like trophies. The sole aim is to render your opponent incapable of 'fighting. Victory is victory, whether earned through brilliance, brute force, or sheer luck."
"Never burden yourself with thoughts of honor or shame. So long as it falls within the rules, 'any method is a legitimate triumph."
The young witches and wizards nodded slowly, thoughtful now.
Even in Potions, the fever of dueling had reached. Snape's class had been scheduled to brew a simple 'pain-relieving' draft. But, as always, he had other plans.
"Fire Protection Potion," he drawled, voice silken and sharp, the very sound enough to sour the air. "It halts the spread of most flame-based curses.... Splashed on the ground or ingested, it provides protection. In duels, 'fire' is a common weapon--and this, therefore, is your shield."
Harry stiffened instantly, remembering the line of potions he had once gambled on during the underground chambers. That lucky guess had saved him.
"In many duels, potions are 'permitted-but' with restrictions." Snape prowled between the desks, cloak billowing like storm clouds. His gaze snapped to Ron, "Weasley. Tell me the restriction."
Ron blinked. His eyes went perfectly blank, the portrait of innocent ignorance.
"Excellent," Snape sneered. "Two points from 'Gryffindor."
The Gryffindors bristled, glaring murderously. Snape ignored them, satisfied, and went on:
"The rule is simple: 'a wizard may only use potions they have brewed themselves'... A prepared Potions Master, therefore, can be nigh undefeatable."
"Do not be idiotic enough to think waving 'your wand' blindly will win you glory. Use your mind. Even if your opponent is weak, treat him as an equal adversary."
"I will, Professor," Draco Malfoy said loudly, voice dripping with false sincerity. Everyone understood the barb. The Slytherins burst into laughter.
Ron surged half out of his seat, but Harry clutched his arm hard.
"Calm down, Ron!" Harry hissed. "Malfoy wants you to snap. Snape is waiting for you to lose points. Beat him in the duel---then they'll have no choice but to 'shut up."
Grinding his teeth, Ron slumped back into his chair.
After class, Hermione was about to drag Lucifer off to the library, but got cut in line by a platinum haired ferret, Malfoy was already waiting in the hidden corner of the corridor.
He kept glancing toward the door, and the moment Lucifer came his way, he hurried over, "Granger, mind giving your boy for a minute."
"What?" She was immediately perplexed at the pleading tone in this arrogant bastard's face.
Draco Malfoy....?
"Morningstar---I need guidance, you 'owe' me from last year," Without hesitation, Draco discarded having a talk with Granger was pointless, he slipped a heavy pouch of galleons into Lucifer's pocket instead. The clink of coins was unmistakable.
"You want me to help you duel?" Lucifer asked, brow arching, "After the chamber incident to boot? Surely you can handle a 'Weasley?"
Malfoy's bravado was nowhere to be found now. His voice carried a rare edge of unease, "I stopped didn't I? Anyway, they may be 'poor, but they're still pure-bloods. My father says Arthur Weasley isn't weak---the family must have powerful spells 'tucked away for battle."
"And Ron Weasely's got older brothers. They'll teach him tricks, no doubt. Morningstar, I can't take chances. I 'need' to crush Weasley--so I can go back to tormenting Potter!"
Lucifer was certain of one thing, Draco Malfoy hated Ron Weasley more than anyone else. Ron was the rock wedged between him and Harry Potter, the obstacle that 'blocked' his way.
If that rock were finally kicked aside, Malfoy's sights would be fixed solely on 'Harry.'
Right now, however, Draco firmly believed Ron was the stronger of the two. So in his mind, once he defeated Ron, Harry would be nothing more than a 'toy' for him to torment at will.
To ensure victory, he had even begged money off his family---just to buy Lucifer's goodwill.
"I put some extra for that sort, Granger."
"..."
Lucifer weighed the heavy pouch Draco had slipped him. 'One hundred fifty or two' hundred galleons at least. Such a pocket change no longer even stirred any emotion in Hermione, she had seen in a certain boy's vault.
She could wholeheartedly say, she wasn't a gold digger, but no way Hermione was sure her heart wasn't affected or swayed even a little bit, at least she dreamt in private parts of mind, being set for life, 'phew!'
'Not a single day going outside to work hard like my Mum, and stay at home being a koala to Lucifer's body, playing the role of his body pillow, swimming in a gold river, bathing in milk....fufu~
'Indulging him as best as I can, so my man wouldn't ever get bored.'
"You can have some more of my mother's cookies too."
That did it, Lucifer couldn't deny one thing: whether out of genuine respect or careful pretense, Draco Malfoy was learning to behave normally in front of him. Perhaps he even wanted to earn more favors.
This, he decided, was a favor worth granting.
"Draco," Lucifer asked lightly, "have you learned the 'Shield Charm' yet?"
Malfoy blinked. "You mean the one Professor Flitwick taught to fourth years? Not really... it only 'works sometimes."
Lucifer nodded thoughtfully. "That's still progress. Enough to begin. If you can master the 'Shield Charm', neither Weasley nor Potter will be able to break through your defense.... Even if your attack spells are sloppy, you'll stand unshakable. It's an almost foolproof way to win."
Draco's eyes lit up. He nodded furiously. 'Yes---just like that hulking machine in the Muggle films, impervious even when swarmed. Only the professor's demonstration had managed to bring it down. If Weasely's curses bounced off me just the same... wouldn't that make... me invincible?! What could he do with that broken wand?'
But then Draco's face fell, "Morningstar... the duel's only a few hours away. How could I possibly master the Shield Charm by then?"
Lucifer stroked his chin. "There is a way. A shortcut... By the end of the day, you'd be able to cast it reliably. The process is painful, though. Do you 'want to try?"
"What way?!"
By now, a few students had gathered around them with curious ears, trying to listen with wide eyes. However, their conversation was a buzz due to 'Muffliato' being cast. Malfoy's rival might be Potter, but the rest of them hated Gryffindor just as much.
If Draco lost, not only would Gryffindor mock them, but Slytherin's own would never let him forget it.
So when Zabini hinted at what Draco might be here for, a shortcut, they all but Hermione too leaned forward eagerly.
"Getting hit," Lucifer said flatly, as he removed the privacy for others.
"Getting... hit?"
A chorus of baffled murmurs rippled through the hallway corridor.
"You duel... One casts attacks, the other cannot dodge---only block with the 'ShieldCharm'. Over and over. The essence of the spell is to repel anything that threatens you. Real combat training will get you there far quicker than endless theory."
His tone was calm, matter-of-fact, "Unless you're truly brainless, a shiver of light will be there, and four or five hours are 'enough."
"A quarter of being hexed?" Draco shivered.
"You'll also need a potioneer. Nothing fancy---just someone who can brew basic 'Purifying Potions' to remove status effects. Stick to curses without physical impact; 'broken bones' are harder to heal."
"Purifying Potions?" Blaise Zabini stepped forward, chest puffed out, smirking at Draco, "That's child's play for me. So, Malfoy--'want my help?"
Suspicion flickered in Draco's eyes, "Since when are you so generous?"
"I'm not," Blaise sniffed. "I just don't want you embarrassing Slytherin by losing to a Weasley.... But if I help, I insist on being your 'sparring partner."
Draco realized instantly, Zabini simply wanted an excuse to pound him with spells. He swore under his breath, but he couldn't refuse. Even Lucifer had praised Zabini's brewing skills, and Snape had publicly lauded him more than once.
If there was anyone to trust with the potions, it was Blaise. Besides, what mattered more? Enduring Zabini's hexes... or humiliating 'Potter afterward?' That wasn't a choice. It was destiny!
"Fine," Draco snapped. "But if you pull anything dirty, I'll tell my father. Now come with me."
He stalked out, Zabini trailing behind with a satisfied grin. Inspired, other Students began pairing off too, grabbing friends to form their own dueling practice partnerships.
Hermione too wouldn't let herself get behind, she cancelled her plans in visiting the Library, and all but forced Lucifer to find a secluded empty classroom, and closed the door.
"Okay, okay, now do you best, hit me Lucifer! I am perfectly ready."
She ordered the boy to give her swats!
They didn't emerge until it was time for Dinner, and was discarded to leave the place for preparations.
At eight o'clock that evening, the pair found themselves back in Great Hall, the long dining tables vanished and replaced with a golden stage along the center of the room.
"So..." Ron standing beside Harry, asked out loud, "Who do you think will be teaching us?
"Maybe Professor Flitwick?" Harry wondered, and looked around at the back of the stage.
"Well, as long as it's not---" Hermione didn't get to finish her sentence except in a groan.
'Gilderoy Lockhart' was walking into the Great Hall, accompanied by Snape.
Lockhart was in resplendent robes of deep plum, and Snape was in his usual all black attire.
Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round! Gather round! Can you all see me? Can you all hear me?"
"Unfortunately," Lucifer said loudly, causing Hermione to giggle slightly.
"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works," he said with a stupid grin on his face.
Ron wanted to punch it so badly.
"I miss the house tables...." Hermione said, under her breath, causing Lucifer to elbow the girl.
"Now let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," he said, flashing a wide smile.
Snape wore his usual snarl, "He tells me he knows a tiny bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him, never fear!"
"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Hermione asked in a humourless tone, her mood is totally worse now, had nothing to look forward to.
"Yeah...." Lucifer bluntly agreed, only he saw her ugly face, "Don't worry you can play with me in the morning...."
He squeezed her bum to indicate the fun, but she only gave him a soft "aah" sound causing her to use both palms to cover that mouth in embarrassment, "What are you doing?!" she whispered loudly.
He was amused by her antics.
"Now I will explain how to duel," Lockhart said, "Obviously, in a life or death situation, you will not be doing this with your opponent, but in a friendly duel such as this, we have sportsmanship standards to maintain-"
"Excuse me, Professor Lockhart," Snape suddenly, getting everyone's attention, "but given that your skills are legendary, I just don't think I have the ability to duel you," he said, causing many to laugh.
Then, turned his eyes right to Lucifer who went wide-eyed the moment he realized what Snape was implying.
Lockhart looked oddly relieved for a moment, but he needed to put up the act, "Well, I appreciate the kind words, Severus, but we do have children to teach. How about just a friendly duel?"
"And we shall... but I have another contender in mind... how about... 'young Morningstarover there?" Snape said slowly, almost menacingly.
"...Okay."
"...you are?" Lockhart was in disbelief, but shook his head, enjoying his lucky stars for not dueling with Professor Snape.
Much better about the one he was about to partake in.
"Yes," Lucifer nodded his head, with quiet confidence.
Lockhart now had got into their positions to begin the 'friendly' duel.
They were facing each other and bowed... well, Lockhart did, but his dueler Lucifer just slightly looked upwards.
One hand inside the pocket of his robes, while the other raised wand in front to attack.
It made Lockhart speak again, with a baffled expression, when he saw that the child wasn't even taking him seriously.
"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position.... Now, Professor Snape will count down the duels start, and remember, we aren't aiming to kill," he told the audience.
But Hermione was on edge.
She knew Lockhart was a joke, but what if he actually learned something since their last time seeing him with a wand?
She had her elbow resting in her opposite hand, and her fingers curled in front of her mouth as she awaited the start.
"On the count of three. One," Snape said with a sneer.
Hermione's face tensed up.
"Two."
She felt her vision go blurry.
"Three."
She almost spit blood.
"Depulso," Lucifer whispered in a low
voice, there's no need to yell, just sending Lockhart flying through the air and almost off the stage.
Most of the girls, as predicted, feared
for his safety.
"Serves him right for setting up a bunch of blue midgets in our class!" Hermione cheered her fists in the air, and laughed heartily at Lockhart's performance, as he even struggled to stand up.
"Very good... very... good..." Lockhart said in a daze, standing up slowly. "Now, that... that was the Banishing Charm... I must admit... I wasn't expecting that from a Second Year, but had I been, I'd have been able to easily block it and then Counter-Attack."
"I doubt it," Lucifer said with a sneer.
Lockhart said nothing about it, "Now I will give a quick demonstration of a different spell, the Disarming Charm-"
"Expelliarmus!" Before he could even finish his sentence Lucifer opened his mouth again, disarming Lockhart, wand flying towards him.
He caught it and held it up, "The Disarming Charm can end a duel in a heartbeat," Lucifer gave students a nice brief, while thinking about whether he should break the wand or not.
"Q-Quite," Lockhart hurriedly went to collect his wand, but the darn boy tossed and fumbled with it, but kept it off the ground, "W-well, there you have it!"
He said, trying to save his lost face, "That was a Disarming Charm... as you see, I've lost my wand-"
"...And a few brain cells!" Hermione chuckled, not hiding her enjoyment in the slightest. What if she didn't get to orgasm?
At least, today's night was fun!
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