As November drew to a close and December blustered in across the Scottish highlands, a buzz went up in all the common rooms as it was announced there would be a duelling club starting up. Draco and Harry were especially keen on this development and nearly gained a detention from Severus for constantly whispering back and forth as they brewed their potion on Friday morning – but he only restrained when he saw that theirs, besides Hermione’s, was the only correct potion in class, so he resorted to taking ten points each instead, and giving them his disappointed-father-glare. They both gulped loudly and fell silent for the rest of the class, only speaking when they needed to for the potion.
Severus noted that Weasley smirked at the two boys when they received the points loss – apparently the boy still hadn’t come to terms with Harry’s new family. That would need to be resolved soon, he thought to himself as the second-years placed their phials on his desk and hastily left the dungeons. He truly wanted it resolved before the holidays started – he didn’t want to notify Molly Weasley that her youngest son was still being an arse.
****
That evening the students returned to the Great Hall where they found Professor Lockhart standing on a raised duelling platform that now took over the majority of the hall. The man looked especially natty that evening: wearing duelling robes over his clothes, everything matching in various shades of lavender. Most of the girls sighed in admiration as they gazed up at the handsome professor, and most of the boys groaned under their breaths. Harry, Draco, Hermione and Neville all stood near each other, and Ron stood a few feet further down near the twins, who were pointedly still ignoring him.
When the last of the students gathered around the platform, Lockhart swirled his cape off and threw it into the crowd, making several young girls nearly swoon as they tried to grab it from the air.
“Professor Dumbledore has graciously allowed me to teach this little duelling club, in order to prepare you for the future. Now, I will show you how a duel is fought; there are many rules of etiquette to be followed and we are lucky to have Professor Snape as my assistant this evening.” He bowed towards the far end of the platform where Severus ascended the stairs to stand with his wand at the ready, to a smattering of applause. While his teaching methods had improved, somewhat, his reputation was still that of the Greasy Git. Harry, Draco and Hermione clapped enthusiastically, however, and Severus granted them a quick nod of appreciation. He strode purposefully along the platform until he stopped near Lockhart who had begun speaking.
“Yes, yes, your professor has some slight experience with defensive and offensive spells, and has allowed me to take him away from his favourite potions for a few hours this evening.” He looked over at the dark man and hastily began the lesson when he noted the man glowering at him. “Now, Professor Snape and I will bow to each other like so,” he said as the two men bent toward each other formally with a stiff bend at the waist while whipping their wands forward to an upright position in front of their faces, eyes locked on each other – never blinking. They quickly straightened and turned around in a smooth move that left them with their wands still upright, and their backs touching.
“Now we will take twenty steps forward, turn and face each other, and release our first spells!” The two older men walked away from each other for the required twenty paces, performed military turns and lowered their wands, arms straight out in front of them, angling their bodies to present the least amount of target area to their opponent. Harry was reminded of when they’d had two fencers come in for a demonstration during gym class at his primary school. He wondered idly which rules had been developed first – wizarding or Muggle?
“Uncle is going to wipe the floor with that glad-rag,” Draco whispered in Harry’s ear. “Just watch.” Harry could only agree as he watched his father’s face, who was intently watching the Defense professor. Just as Lockhart raised his wand to start a spell, Severus let loose with an “Expelliarmus!” that had such force behind it, the other professor was knocked clean off of his feet and into the padded wall behind him, dropping his wand in the process.
Harry and Draco slapped hands as Harry pronounced the move absolutely “Brilliant”, and they laughed with most of the other boys as Gilderoy untangled his limbs, found his wand, and struggled to stand up in a dignified manner – which he wholly managed to miss. Harry caught Ron’s eye and they both grinned at the ridiculous man’s antics – before looking away, embarrassed. Harry thought they both felt that the estrangement had gone on long enough, but they were both unwilling to make the first move to reconcilement. The girls all cooed in sympathy at the professor’s ungainly attempts. Harry looked up at his father and caught the man’s eye, beaming as the professor gave him a sly wink before schooling his expression into one of bored disdain. He watched his colleague finally regain his feet, smooth back his flustered hair, and twitch his duelling robe back into place.
“That, children, was a well performed disarming charm – an excellent move to show them that, Professor; but if you don’t mind me saying so, it was quite obvious what you were about to do and I could have stopped you… well, yes…” he ended up spluttering in the end as he noticed the murderous look Severus was sending his way. He flushed to the roots of his blond hair. “Enough demonstrations! Let’s pair everyone up and let you have a go at it, eh?”
Draco and Harry paired up. Harry would’ve normally asked Ron, but the boy was still giving him the silent treatment, although he no longer deliberately moved to a different location whenever Harry came near him. Besides, he and Draco were pretty much evenly matched.
All around them chaos reigned as hexes, jinxes and charms were thrown about with abandon, causing several injuries to occur. Some older Slytherins thought that they would be sly and try to injure Snape ‘by accident’, but he managed to block every single ‘stray’ hex that came his way while each and every miscreant found themselves removed to the chairs along the side of the room, wands confiscated for the duration.
Draco and Harry calmly exchanged spells and shield charms – this was something they were very familiar with, having studied this way during the summer. Severus had them practicing on the weekends, ever since, in the abandoned classroom in the dungeons that he had transformed into a personal workout area many years earlier. It was complete with mirrors along one wall, and with mats in front of it for fencing and other gymnastic activities, as well as free weights, rabbited swords and epees, and various other devices both magical and Muggle. Severus had added quite a number of devices and weapons to his personal training arsenal as he was making sure the boys would survive to adulthood. He truly did not trust the level of DADA masters the headmaster had been hiring so far.
Professor Lockhart was soon pulling on his hair and screaming, “Stop!” at the top of his lungs, sounding very nearly like a banshee. His face was turning an interesting shade of purple, in his frustration. For the most part, the students ignored him – although with Severus present and watching, his two boys stopped immediately, dropping their wands to the proper waiting stance. Severus just stood back, smirking at the mess around him. Lockhart couldn’t lead a duelling club if his life depended upon it, and Severus was more than willing to let the man self-destruct on his own.
Several students were sprawled on the floor recovering from various jinxes and hexes. Harry was especially gleeful to see Nott flat on the floor but still moving his legs from a well-placed Tarentellegra that a fourth-year Hufflepuff had thrown at him. Insult on top of injury: beautiful! Across the room from him, Ron was spouting several tentacles on his face from a jinx by Hermione; but he seemed to be unaware of the eight waving appendages that haloed his face like sunbeams, as he stared at his wand, which was hanging by a thread of unicorn tail hair. His mouth was hanging down to his knees, almost literally – if you counted the tentacle that extended from his chin - and he just held the fractured piece of wood with an expression of horror, while several nearby Slytherins were laughing at his misfortune.
Harry totally forgot that he was supposed to be ignoring Ron, and his attitude, as he hurried to his friend’s side, Draco following discretely behind him. By the time they reached him, Hermione had already placed a comforting arm around Ron and was trying to calm him down.
“What happened?” asked Harry as he looked at the pitiful object. “Your spell didn’t do that; did it, Hermione?”
“Nooo, I had just finished my jinx when this spell came shooting off from the left and hit Ron’s wand.” She murmured a Finite, and the squirming, fleshy protuberances disappeared. “I’m so sorry, Ronald,” she said quietly.
Ron just looked up into Harry’s face, tried to garble something and gave up, resorting to looking forlornly back down at his wand.
Severus, seeing the little group of children, sauntered over – in case anyone needed a stronger counter-curse or anti-jinx performed. He had to stifle a sigh, however, when he saw the reason of the little group gathering.
Hermione looked up as she felt the taller presence of the professor looming nearby. “Oh, Professor – a stray spell broke Ronald’s wand. Is there anything that can be done to fix it?” Ron was so desperate that, when he turned to face the professor, he actually looked hopeful that his most hated teacher might have a remedy.
Severus peered down at the sad sight and shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Miss Granger. I believe Mr Weasley needs to owl his parents tonight and request a new wand be sent immediately.”
“My mum’s going to kill me!” murmured the still stunned Ron. “I don’t think we have any spare wands at home; and with Ginny in school now, too – well, I don’t think there’s a lot of extra galleons laying around,” he muttered, a bit embarrassed, looking back down.
“We’ll see what we can do, Mr Weasley. In the meantime…” Severus conjured a roll of spello-tape and handed it to the teen, “…take this and tape your wand back together. You’ll be able to practice movements, but I wouldn’t try casting any real spells except in an emergency – they will most likely backfire. I will let the Headmaster know what is going on and he will contact your parents to make arrangements. Now head on over to the seats over there – you can watch the rest of the evening’s demonstrations safely from them.” He placed a hand in the middle of Ron’s back and steered him firmly in the direction of the chairs. “Nott, come here!” he called out to the nearby Slytherin who promptly coloured up, but obeyed his housemaster.
“I observed your duel, Mr Nott,” Severus said in a low and menacing voice. “And that severing charm was not aimed at your opponent; it was, however, deliberately aimed at Mr Weasley, leaving yourself open for the Tarantellegra. From a Hufflepuff! Fifty points from Slytherin for a remarkable lack of judgement, and you have two weeks of detention, with me, starting Monday night.” He grinned evilly as a truly Slytherin solution came to mind. “And you will pay for Mr Weasley’s new wand – from Ollivanders, of course.” The boy turned white with this news; Ollivander wands were expensive – well worth their value – but expensive. “While this is a duelling club, you never aim – during the club – to deprive a student of their wand past the point of club meetings. In the real world, yes, you would try to disable your opponent in such a fashion, but not in the club. Now, go sit down – away from Weasley.” He watched as the second-year slunk over to the line of chairs and sat down in the one furthest from Ron.
Severus went around and performed the several remaining counter jinxes before rejoining Lockhart on the platform.
“Well, I guess we should practice shielding charms first, eh, Professor Snape?” the foppish wizard asked.
“Indeed,” Severus said stonily, with his arms crossed across his chest. “Perhaps a demonstration first, from the students? May I suggest my son and godson?” He motioned to the two boys to quickly join him on stage, and placing an arm around each of them, gathered them in to give them quick instructions.
“Keep it clean, gentlemen. Draco, cast Rictumsempra – Harry, you will cast Protego; just like you practice on the weekends. Understand? Good.” He walked them over to the centre of the platform where they bowed correctly to each other, turned and paced off before returning to the ready stance at either end of the platform. Harry had his spell ready on the tip of his tongue and watched Draco closely.
Draco, instead of the hex approved of by his head of house, used Serpensortia instead – sending a cobra across the platform toward his brother. He was curious to see what his Parseltongue-speaking brother was going to do. He had yet to see Harry demonstrate this capability and he was half unsure that the tale was even true, although leading them to the bathroom had nearly convinced him. He stood back with a smirk on his face as the students hastily backed away from the platforms edge – in case the snake came for them.
The snake had landed in a heap near Harry, and shook it’s head for a moment before flaring it’s hood and beginning to undulate in a mesmerising pattern in front of the younger boy, tongue flicking in and out. Harry took a deep breath, shot an annoyed glare at Draco, and warned his father back with his eyes when the older wizard stepped forward, wand raised, to interfere.
Gilderoy didn’t pay any attention to this interaction, and stepped forward himself. “I know the perfect spell to get rid of him, Harry.” And before anyone could stop him, his spell had sent the serpent flying in the air, only to come down with a loud thump on the platform. The snake, seriously angered, flared its hood even wider as it slithered toward the edge of the platform, causing several girls to scream.
Severus grabbed the front of Lockhart’s robes, lifting him up to face the angry father. “Are you that stupid, Lockhart! You never use that spell on a snake! Are you trying to provoke it deliberately and cause a riot? What kind of Dark Arts expert are you?” he spat in the fop’s face. “Get out of my way, and stay out of it!” He tossed the blond toward the far corner of the stage and turned back towards his son to see if he needed any help.
Meanwhile, Harry stepped forward; his own wand raised as he listened to the hissing coming from the great serpent. He spoke sharply to the animal to get its attention before continuing in a gentler tone to the animal, soothing it with his voice. His father conjured a burlap sack and held it at the ready. Harry approached closer as the snake lowered its hood and sidled up to the boy – listening intently, although it took the time to flare at the students again, some of whom were getting too close. Harry hissed in a rebuking tone at the animal, garnering its attention back to him. The other children eyed Harry warily, beginning to murmur to themselves. Hermione stood with her hands over her mouth in sheer terror.
Harry ignored them all, holding out his left hand for the bag, and coaxed the snake into it, quickly tying off the top. He looked at his father. “I told him we would transfer him to a zoo.” Severus nodded his understanding and straightened up to pin Draco with his stare, warning him not to move, then turned to a visibly shaken Professor Lockhart.
“I believe this concludes the duelling club, don’t you agree, Professor?” Lockhart agreed readily and shooed the remaining students out the doors as they tried to look at Harry, murmuring about this new facet of his powers. Whispers of “Parselmouth” and “Heir of Slytherin” were floating back to the three left standing on the platform. When the room was clear, Severus finally looked down at Draco.
“I specifically told you to use Rictumsempra, young man. What got in your head?” Draco would have preferred it if his godfather had yelled at him; instead, what he got was worse: the man was holding his temper barely in, and his voice was deadly calm, but low and threatening in its timbre. Draco looked a bit sheepish as he answered.
“I wanted to see what Parseltongue sounded like – I just couldn’t believe it when Harry said he was a Parselmouth… I wanted to see what he could do and I remembered this spell that father taught me last summer...”
“You could’ve asked me down in dad’s rooms, I speak to Ssthan and Ssthor all the time – they’re the snakes on Sal’s portrait!” Harry pointed out. “Now the whole school knows, and they really think I’m the Heir of Slytherin! Brilliant, Draco! Very Slytherin of you!” He turned away from his friend in disgust, dropping down on the platform to sit cross-legged. Draco paled and made as if to go over and apologise, but Severus’ lean hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“I’m disappointed in you, Draco. You will apologise to Harry – just not tonight. Give him a chance to calm down. I’m afraid I will have to insist that you sleep in your Dorm tonight, we’ll see about tomorrow. I truly thought you had a better head on your shoulders than this little stunt shows. I will be setting you a punishment; I’m just too incensed to think straight. I will speak to you about it tomorrow. Come to my rooms after breakfast and we will speak then.” Draco had kept his head down during this rebuke, and with a last look at Harry - who had drawn his knees up to his chest, arms clasped tightly around them while resting his head on the bony pillows - he shuffled out of the Great Hall.
Severus walked over to Harry, crouching down until his knees screamed in protest and placed a hand on Harry’s back, stroking it a few times in sympathy. “Come on, let’s take your new friend up to Dumbledore – he will make sure it arrives at a proper facility.” Harry nodded once, surreptitiously wiping his eyes on the sleeves of his jumper – he would never admit he had been crying - before scrambling up, grabbing the squirming burlap bag, and joining his father as they walked out of the Great Hall. When they reached the doors, Severus turned and, with a wave of his wand, returned the room to rights for breakfast the next day.