It turned out I was much better at dueling than in potion concoctions. Pairing up with Quincy and practicing the spell, she never managed to make my wand tremble between my fingers. Unlike hers, which was constantly flying off in different directions, and every time she came back with it, she was more and more pouty, her head going scarlet. I realized I may have gone too far when I saw tears appearing at the corner of her eyes, lowering my wand and opening my mouth, but then she shouted, ‘Expelliarmus,’ and made me drop it.
“Hmph!” She snorted while I looked at her, amazed, forming a wide grin.
“Nice.” I nodded, not even angry. That was quick and sharp. It was my fault for lowering my defenses. She capitalized on it perfectly.
“Sure…” She mumbled grumpily, still looking hurt.
“Nobody would argue about a sneak attack, especially not if it brings you victory,” I answered, looking around, watching the others attack each other while our teacher was fiddling with his hair in front of a mirror at one of the corners of the classroom.
“You are a bully.”
“Am I?”
“Yes!” She answered resolutely, stomping in place, looking at me, “You were enjoying sending me after my wand!”
“Yeah.”
“...!”
“Dueling is fun, and it seems I am good at it!” I continued, raising an eyebrow at her. “Why is that bullying? You are better at potions, it would seem, and I am not as good at it as you. Is that bullying?”
“I helped you!” She protested again, but I failed to see the connections.
“Yeah…? And I am practicing with you now, am I not? But if you want, I can go ask someone else.” I added with a shrug that seemed to make her flinch. Nobody was willing to pair up with her, it seemed, and if I now went and started practicing with someone else, she would just stand there, very well doing nothing and missing out on gaining experience.
“I can duel with her!” A voice interrupted us, and watching the girl arrive, I furrowed my brows. I wasn’t sure of her name, but I recognized the pug-like features of her face. A Parkinson. Nobody can mistake that face for anybody else.
I noticed the sudden fright and panic in Quincy’s eyes, but before any of us could say anything, the girl already took her place, looking at her.
“Let’s see how quick you are!” She grinned aggressively, and the next moment, she already shouted her spell; that was not what we were training with. “Flipendo!”
With a loud bang, not just the wand in Quincy’s hand but she herself did a backflip before crashing into the bookshelf, knocking all of its contents to the ground and burying herself under them.
“What happened?!” Professor Lockhart came over, watching us with a bit of nervousness in his eyes.
“Nothing, Professor!” The Parkinson girl smiled sweetly while everyone was looking at us now.
“Just training,” I said, walking in front of her, performing the courteous bow that my Father used to do when I watched him exercise. “Let’s see how you fare with someone who is ready,” I said calmly, looking into her eyes, ready for anything.
“Do you even know any spells?” She asked, smirking at me.
“I know only one. But that should be enough.”
Seeing her smile fade and raising her hand… I already knew she was way too slow. Her hand was making too many extra fleurs that were not needed at all, only for show. By the time she opened her mouth, I already cried out my spell, and her wand went spinning from her head, just to be lodged into the ceiling high above us with a loud ‘twang.’
“Slow,” I added, bowing once again, turning towards Quincy and helping her back to her feet. “Are you good?”
“No…” She sniffled, trying to hold back her tears.
“Hey!” Parkinson shouted after me, and I already knew she was flustered as she had no idea how to get back her wand from so high up.
“Ahaha, worry not, young lady!” Our Professor finally interjected, regaining his wits and pointing his wand at Parkinson’s. “Accio!”
It was really hard not to laugh. The moment he did the spell, the wand flew from the ceiling, straight at the open window, disappearing in the distance, turning the red, angry face of the Parkinson girl into that of a ghost.
“Oh, silly me, I think I used too much force!” Professor Lockhart laughed sheepishly, ignoring her panic-stricken looks. “I think this is enough practice for today, class! Next time, we will work on… something else!” He grinned like a fool before simply leaving.
“I’d hurry.” I opened my mouth, looking at Parkinson, “What if someone else finds your wand? Maybe Professor Umbridge?”
That was enough to turn her face even whiter, which I did not imagine would be possible. She was the first to leave the classroom, while I turned back towards Quincy, looking at her lowered head, seeing the growing bump on it, protruding up from under her lengthy, black hair.
“Next time, we should practice a little.” I heard Draco say it to me. “See who is better.”
“Sure,” I answered with a little sigh, looking at him over my shoulder, and then led Quincy to her bag to sit down on a chair.
The others were clearly uninterested in it anymore, so everyone started to leave the classroom, soon leaving only us there. I was about to ask something when Professor Lockhart returned, looking around.
“I forgot…” He said, now speaking to me. “Fix that up for me, would you?” He pointed at the broken bookcase.
“But-” I stood up, wanting to say something, but he was gone again. “I don’t know the repairing spell… Haah… You?” I looked at Quincy, but she just shook her head. “Idiot… And I mean the Professor….”
“He did teach you the spell quick enough….” She added, still defending him, but I was not about to start an argument once again.
“Yeah, yeah, he did.” I simply shrugged, rummaging around the stuff in the classroom, finding a weird cloth that was surprisingly cold. “Here, this should do!” I said, putting it on the growing bump on her head, making her hiss loudly like a snake.
“T-thanks…” She stuttered. “What is it?”
“Dunno.” I spread my arms, making her face twitch and a bit scared.
“I don’t know if it is a good idea to use things that you find randomly in the Dark Arts classroom….”
“We will see tomorrow, no? Maybe you will grow a second head?”
“I hope not!” She flinched but finally managed to force a smile onto her face.
“Haah… Let me gather up the stuff in here, and then let us get out of here!” I moaned, looking at the destroyed bookshelf. “Especially because if Professor Umbridge is the one teaching Dark Arts for all the other years… this is her classroom, and Lockhart just borrows it.”
“Ah…!” Quincy shouted, standing to her feet immediately, throwing away everything, and hurrying next to me to gather up the books.
“See? No wonder the ‘Professor’ scurried so quickly and was so scared when you banged into it!”
“Hurry!” She whispered, forgetting her pain, and I agreed with her wholeheartedly. It was best to just… go. Let them deal with the aftermath. As I was putting the things into a pile, I noticed a book that was flipped open. It had a moving image of a dementor inside of it, floating from one page to the other.
“Most Dangerous Beasts…” I murmured, reading its title after closing it.
“Hm?” Quincy stopped as everything was gathered from the ground, looking at my find. “The paintings.”
“Paintings?” I looked up and realized what she meant. The paintings on the walls. One of them was a dementor.
“Those are all the most dangerous beasts you could find.” She continued, watching them one by one. “They look as if they are sleeping, but if this is Professor Umbridge’s classroom… I am sure she could call them off from their frames and attack a student with them!”
“Wicked…” I murmured. As much as I hated that woman, seeing those beasts inside their pictures and imagining them walking off was… kinda cool. “Let’s go!” I shook my head, leaving with Quincy, who was looking at me with a horrified look.
“I don’t think she would mind,” I whispered, holding the book under my arms, intending to… borrow it.
“You are mad…” She said, looking into my eyes but said no more as we left the room, deciding to head to our new, secret room at the top of the North Tower.
It turned out I was much better at dueling than in potion concoctions. Pairing up with Quincy and practicing the spell, she never managed to make my wand tremble between my fingers. Unlike hers, which was constantly flying off in different directions, and every time she came back with it, she was more and more pouty, her head going scarlet. I realized I may have gone too far when I saw tears appearing at the corner of her eyes, lowering my wand and opening my mouth, but then she shouted, ‘Expelliarmus,’ and made me drop it.
“Hmph!” She snorted while I looked at her, amazed, forming a wide grin.
“Nice.” I nodded, not even angry. That was quick and sharp. It was my fault for lowering my defenses. She capitalized on it perfectly.
“Sure…” She mumbled grumpily, still looking hurt.
“Nobody would argue about a sneak attack, especially not if it brings you victory,” I answered, looking around, watching the others attack each other while our teacher was fiddling with his hair in front of a mirror at one of the corners of the classroom.
“You are a bully.”
“Am I?”
“Yes!” She answered resolutely, stomping in place, looking at me, “You were enjoying sending me after my wand!”
“Yeah.”
“...!”
“Dueling is fun, and it seems I am good at it!” I continued, raising an eyebrow at her. “Why is that bullying? You are better at potions, it would seem, and I am not as good at it as you. Is that bullying?”
“I helped you!” She protested again, but I failed to see the connections.
“Yeah…? And I am practicing with you now, am I not? But if you want, I can go ask someone else.” I added with a shrug that seemed to make her flinch. Nobody was willing to pair up with her, it seemed, and if I now went and started practicing with someone else, she would just stand there, very well doing nothing and missing out on gaining experience.
“I can duel with her!” A voice interrupted us, and watching the girl arrive, I furrowed my brows. I wasn’t sure of her name, but I recognized the pug-like features of her face. A Parkinson. Nobody can mistake that face for anybody else.
I noticed the sudden fright and panic in Quincy’s eyes, but before any of us could say anything, the girl already took her place, looking at her.
“Let’s see how quick you are!” She grinned aggressively, and the next moment, she already shouted her spell; that was not what we were training with. “Flipendo!”
With a loud bang, not just the wand in Quincy’s hand but she herself did a backflip before crashing into the bookshelf, knocking all of its contents to the ground and burying herself under them.
“What happened?!” Professor Lockhart came over, watching us with a bit of nervousness in his eyes.
“Nothing, Professor!” The Parkinson girl smiled sweetly while everyone was looking at us now.
“Just training,” I said, walking in front of her, performing the courteous bow that my Father used to do when I watched him exercise. “Let’s see how you fare with someone who is ready,” I said calmly, looking into her eyes, ready for anything.
“Do you even know any spells?” She asked, smirking at me.
“I know only one. But that should be enough.”
Seeing her smile fade and raising her hand… I already knew she was way too slow. Her hand was making too many extra fleurs that were not needed at all, only for show. By the time she opened her mouth, I already cried out my spell, and her wand went spinning from her head, just to be lodged into the ceiling high above us with a loud ‘twang.’
“Slow,” I added, bowing once again, turning towards Quincy and helping her back to her feet. “Are you good?”
“No…” She sniffled, trying to hold back her tears.
“Hey!” Parkinson shouted after me, and I already knew she was flustered as she had no idea how to get back her wand from so high up.
“Ahaha, worry not, young lady!” Our Professor finally interjected, regaining his wits and pointing his wand at Parkinson’s. “Accio!”
It was really hard not to laugh. The moment he did the spell, the wand flew from the ceiling, straight at the open window, disappearing in the distance, turning the red, angry face of the Parkinson girl into that of a ghost.
“Oh, silly me, I think I used too much force!” Professor Lockhart laughed sheepishly, ignoring her panic-stricken looks. “I think this is enough practice for today, class! Next time, we will work on… something else!” He grinned like a fool before simply leaving.
“I’d hurry.” I opened my mouth, looking at Parkinson, “What if someone else finds your wand? Maybe Professor Umbridge?”
That was enough to turn her face even whiter, which I did not imagine would be possible. She was the first to leave the classroom, while I turned back towards Quincy, looking at her lowered head, seeing the growing bump on it, protruding up from under her lengthy, black hair.
“Next time, we should practice a little.” I heard Draco say it to me. “See who is better.”
“Sure,” I answered with a little sigh, looking at him over my shoulder, and then led Quincy to her bag to sit down on a chair.
The others were clearly uninterested in it anymore, so everyone started to leave the classroom, soon leaving only us there. I was about to ask something when Professor Lockhart returned, looking around.
“I forgot…” He said, now speaking to me. “Fix that up for me, would you?” He pointed at the broken bookcase.
“But-” I stood up, wanting to say something, but he was gone again. “I don’t know the repairing spell… Haah… You?” I looked at Quincy, but she just shook her head. “Idiot… And I mean the Professor….”
“He did teach you the spell quick enough….” She added, still defending him, but I was not about to start an argument once again.
“Yeah, yeah, he did.” I simply shrugged, rummaging around the stuff in the classroom, finding a weird cloth that was surprisingly cold. “Here, this should do!” I said, putting it on the growing bump on her head, making her hiss loudly like a snake.
“T-thanks…” She stuttered. “What is it?”
“Dunno.” I spread my arms, making her face twitch and a bit scared.
“I don’t know if it is a good idea to use things that you find randomly in the Dark Arts classroom….”
“We will see tomorrow, no? Maybe you will grow a second head?”
“I hope not!” She flinched but finally managed to force a smile onto her face.
“Haah… Let me gather up the stuff in here, and then let us get out of here!” I moaned, looking at the destroyed bookshelf. “Especially because if Professor Umbridge is the one teaching Dark Arts for all the other years… this is her classroom, and Lockhart just borrows it.”
“Ah…!” Quincy shouted, standing to her feet immediately, throwing away everything, and hurrying next to me to gather up the books.
“See? No wonder the ‘Professor’ scurried so quickly and was so scared when you banged into it!”
“Hurry!” She whispered, forgetting her pain, and I agreed with her wholeheartedly. It was best to just… go. Let them deal with the aftermath. As I was putting the things into a pile, I noticed a book that was flipped open. It had a moving image of a dementor inside of it, floating from one page to the other.
“Most Dangerous Beasts…” I murmured, reading its title after closing it.
“Hm?” Quincy stopped as everything was gathered from the ground, looking at my find. “The paintings.”
“Paintings?” I looked up and realized what she meant. The paintings on the walls. One of them was a dementor.
“Those are all the most dangerous beasts you could find.” She continued, watching them one by one. “They look as if they are sleeping, but if this is Professor Umbridge’s classroom… I am sure she could call them off from their frames and attack a student with them!”
“Wicked…” I murmured. As much as I hated that woman, seeing those beasts inside their pictures and imagining them walking off was… kinda cool. “Let’s go!” I shook my head, leaving with Quincy, who was looking at me with a horrified look.
“I don’t think she would mind,” I whispered, holding the book under my arms, intending to… borrow it.
“You are mad…” She said, looking into my eyes but said no more as we left the room, deciding to head to our new, secret room at the top of the North Tower.
