When they reached the Room of Requirement, they found Severus waiting for them.  To his sons' relief, he did not look angry, and he quickly beckoned them inside before the door shut.  "We have only an hour before you two need to get some rest so you're not dozing through your classes tomorrow morning," their father stated. "So, warm up with some basic stretches, and  then I'll teach you a Rebounding Charm, which is designed to reflect a hex or curse cast at you back on your opponent.  It will work on the Cruciatus Curse and most any other harmful magic save for Avada Kedavra."

"Neat! How come we were never taught that before in Defense, Dad?" asked Harry.

"'Cause half our Defense teachers sucked big time," Draco interjected.

"Lupin didn't," Harry objected. "And Moody's pretty cool."

"Humph!" Draco snorted. "Cool if your name's not Malfoy."

"What do you mean, son?"

"Nothing," Draco said swiftly, not wanting to seem like a whiny brat.

"Professor Moody was ragging on him in class, saying he knew dark curses and stuff since Lucius was a Death Eater."

Draco glowered at his brother. "Harry, bloody hell! Mind your own business."

"Boys, enough! Draco, I will speak to Professor Moody and explain your situation.  He has no call to paint you with your father's brush.  But he is old and set in his ways and too used to hunting down dark wizards, not teaching children. He thinks that children inherit their parents' traits.  He forgets we're not dragons."

"Please, Dad.  Don't talk to him. I'm fine." Draco protested.

"Draco, if a teacher is treating you unfairly-" Severus began.

"I can handle it, Dad. Don't listen to Harry."

Severus gave him a hard look.  "Very well. I shall let it go . . .this time.  But if it happens again, or he starts grading you unfairly, let me know and I shall confront him."

Draco nodded, his face flushing. Then he kicked off his shoes and began to do the elementary warm-up exercises Severus had taught them for kin-sa-dor, still seething at Harry. He knew his brother meant well, but there were certain things you just didn't tell your father.

Harry didn't say anything, but he was sorry he had embarrassed his brother. He hadn't meant to, but he felt Severus should know about Moody.  For some reason, Moody made him a tad bit uneasy, despite the fact that much of his teaching made sense.  He moved over opposite his brother and began stretching also.

"To answer your question, Harry, the reason why no Defense teacher has taught you that spell is because they wouldn't have known of it.  It is a fae spell, taught to me by Sarai. It has saved my life many times in duels with Death Eaters." Severus told them.

He waved his wand and activated one of the practice dummies. It came forward, false wand in hand, ready to do battle.

"Watch closely now."

The dummy cast a Freezing Jinx at Snape.

Severus made a circular gesture with his wand and said, "Reflectiva Magicka!"

The hex flew towards the Potions Master, only to be deflected by a mirror bright shield that encased Severus like a globe.  The spell bounced off and struck the dummy, who fell down, acknowledging a hit.

"Were you watching?" Severus demanded a second later. He was using his drill sergeant tone.

"Yes, sir!" chorused the two boys.

"Good. On your feet and let's see you cast it."

The dummy had gotten back to its feet also and waited until Severus sent it against the two boys.

Neither one managed the counter correctly the first time. As a reminder, the dummy shot Stinging Hexes at them and made them wince.  But the second time they managed to cast it and deflect most of the Happy Feet Jinx the dummy cast at them back upon it. 

"Better. Keep practicing," Severus urged.

After ten times he made them practice the spell against himself and then each other, until both boys were staggering and exhausted. Only then did he call a halt. "We'll practice more on Sunday.  You both did well for beginners." He gave them each a brief hug and then said, "Good night.  I will see you tomorrow."

"Night, Dad," Harry called as he started to leave, forgetting he was still in his socks.

"Harry, you're forgetting something," Severus reminded.

"Like what?"

"Look at your feet, duh!" Draco snickered.

Harry did, then he flushed. "Oh. Right. Shoes." He summoned them and put them on.

Then he continued on to Gryffindor Tower, Smidgen flying sentry over his shoulder.

Draco also bid Severus goodnight, but they walked back to the Slytherin portrait hole together.

* * * * * *

The next morning, Harry received a copy of the Daily Prophet from Frost, as did Hermione from Athena and Ron from Zephyr. Hedwig's fledglings were doing very well with their post duties and both young wizards adored their owlets very much. Hermione had once told Harry and Ron that Athena was so smart she could probably teach her to speak someday.

Ron had started laughing and said, "Like witch, like owl, I guess."

Hermione couldn't dispute that, so she settled for sniffing loftily.

Harry stroked Frost, she was nearly Hedwig's double in looks and was very bright and had a sweet temperament besides. "Thank you, Frosty," he smiled at her and gave her some toast off of his plate.

Across the hall, he saw her brother, Phantom, bringing the paper and a package to Severus. Phantom had been a gift to the Potions Master from his sons, and was the silent flyer and the most graceful of the four owlets. He was a dark gray color with white markings resembling S's on his chest and wings.

Athena and Zephyr were both a mottled gray with white spots.

Looking up from Frost, who was nibbling at some bacon on his plate, Harry saw Stormrider land on Draco's shoulder, a copy of the Prophet in his beak. It looked like everyone wanted to read the morning issue and Harry knew why. Skeeter's interviews of the four champions were in this issue.

Harry unfolded his copy and began to read it. Sure enough, in the righthand corner of the first page was Rita's byline and the first article about Bulgarian Seeker Viktor Krum. A picture of Krum in his Quidditch uniform waved and grinned at Harry.

Harry made a face at the other, skimmed the interview, then flipped the page over to see what else Rita had said. What he read nearly caused him to fall out of his chair in shock.

"Bloody damn hell!" he swore.

Hermione flashed him a disapproving look. "Harry, really? Must you swear like Ronald now?"

"Take a look at page two and you'll see why I'm swearing," Harry said sharply.

Hermione did and gasped. "Oh, Harry! How could she write such lies?"

For there, splashed across the page in stark black and white print for the world to see was the headline Boy-Who-Lives Declared Surprise Champion!  Potion Master's Son to Compete in Triwizard Tournament Against All Odds!

Harry Albus Snape, son of Potions Master Severus Snape, was declared a surprise entry by the Goblet of Fire. Rumors abound as to how the 14-year-old managed to hoodwink the Goblet into accepting him as a candidate, as he is not even of age to compete. It is rumored that he had the help of an older wizard. He has confided to me that he wishes to compete in order to impress his father with his bravery and intelligence and also to help out his father, who is in financially troubled straits since adopting Draco Malfoy and taking in Harry over the summer.  The Snape family lives in a decrepit manor inherited from Professor Snape's maternal grandparents, and requires many Galleons to restore and run at optimum efficiency.  Snape, never a wealthy man, is in sore need of that two thousand Galleon prize . . .

"That-that-lying, scummy, no good harpy!" Harry exploded. "I never told her that! Never! I said just the opposite!" He slammed his fist on the table. "My father's gonna kill me!"

Katie rose and came over to where Harry was sitting down the table and said gently, "Don't get yourself all worked up, Harry. Anyone who knows you knows you'd never put your name in there on purpose and they all know Professor Snape is hardly a charity case."

Harry bit his lip. "You and I know that, but half the school takes what's written here as truth. And now they'll all be talking about us. Damn Rita Skeeter! Where does she get off printing such trash?"

"She's a journalist. She prints what people want to hear, not the truth," Katie sighed, giving Harry's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Just tell your dad the truth, he'll believe you."

"I hope so," Harry said glumly. "Else my arse is grass and my dad's the lawn mower." He glanced over at Draco and saw the Slytherin was glaring at the paper like he wished it would self-combust.

Ron winced.  "Well, if I were you, Harry, I'd send a note or something over real quick. Because the professor looks ready to tear strips off somebody." He jerked his head up at the staff table.

Harry slid his gaze up and gulped.

Severus had a black scowl on his face and his eyes were blazing like two coals.

Definitely not a good sign.

Severus was furious. He had known that Skeeter was an unscrupulous columnist, only out for the story of the moment, and a sensationalist to boot, but even he never thought she would go this far. The whole article was nothing but fabrication with a few facts scattered here and there. And how dare she say he was financially troubled!  He made better money now than when he had first started and since he was no longer spying, he was able to concentrate more upon brewing potions for specific wizards individually and charging top prices.

He eyed his colleagues furtively and prayed none of them were stupid enough to question him about the veracity of the article. He was in no mood to discuss his personal life.

He finished his tea, toast, and sausage and rose, ready to return to his lab to set up for the morning classes.

"Severus, a moment, if you please," Dumbledore called.

Severus gritted his teeth. "Yes, Headmaster?"

"Come with me, my boy." Dumbledore had that infernal twinkle in his eyes again, and that always meant trouble, or at the least a discussion Severus did not want to participate in.

"I need to prepare for my class," the Potions Master began.

"Yes, yes, this will only take a minute." Dumbledore said, and a reluctant Potions Master followed him to his office.

As soon as the door had shut behind him, Severus started to dissuade Albus about what he had read in the Prophet.  "Albus, if this is about that scurrilous article-"

"Now, Severus, there is no need to be ashamed if you are having . . .ah . . .monetary problems. I shall gladly increase your salary."

"Headmaster, that is not necessary-"

"Severus, my boy, we have all been in those straits before, and you should not let pride get in the way of feeding your children," Albus began gently. "How much of a raise do you feel is necessary?"

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself not to snap at Albus, who was only misinformed.  "Albus, please stop. I assure you, I have plenty of money in my vault, more than enough to support my family. She . . .that . . .sensationalist bitch-please excuse my language-wrote nothing but lies in that piece.  I am not living in a ruin, or penniless, and my current salary is more than adequate for my needs. You paid me well for my duties for the Order and I am very thrifty.  I know how to save my money."

"I know, my boy, but  some extra never hurts," Albus said, gently laying a hand upon his shoulder.

Severus sighed. "You're still convinced I am destitute, are you, old fox?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I believe you, Severus. No need to get all worked up and defensive. But I think you deserve a raise nevertheless. You have worked tirelessly for me and never once demanded an advance."

"Because I never needed one. I am perfectly content with what I make," Severus protested irritably. Damn that Skeeter woman! I wish I could Silence her and her quill, the miserable gossipy hag! Now look what she's started. I ought to write to the editor and demand she retract the article because it's slandering my Name.

Albus ignored his employee's angry sputtering and moved over to his desk and wrote something on a piece of parchment. "There! I have given you an extra fifty Galleons per week."

"Albus, for the love of Merlin!" Severus exploded.

"Hush, Severus. It's done. Now don't make a fuss, but consider it a belated birthday present-several years worth, if you must." The Headmaster was chuckling. "As well as a congratulations on your two fine sons. Better late than never, eh?"

"Albus, you are too much!"

"Indeed. Now, off you go, I do believe you said you needed to prepare for your class?"

Severus grumbled under his breath about murdering a certain reporter, then he left the office, having been outmaneuvered neatly to his chagrin by a meddling old coot.

* * * * * *

Harry ran as quickly as he could down to the dungeons, hoping to catch Severus inbetween classes in a free moment, so he could explain to his father about the article.

Severus glanced up when Harry appeared in the doorway, bent over and panting. "Harry, what is it? Are you sick? Is Draco all right?"

"We're fine, Dad. It's just . . .the paper this morning . . ."

Severus frowned. "Yes, that wretched harpy's article. . ."

"Dad, I never said any of those things. I told her the exact opposite and she just ignored me and wrote what her dumb quill dictated."

"What do you mean?"

"She had a green quill that wrote things down while we talked . . .a Quick Quotes Quill, I think it was called."

"Ah. An enchanted quill for lazy writers," Snape sneered. "Figures. Don't worry too much, Harry. She's known for her blather. If people believed half of what she's written they'd be crazy."

"She wrote that Prince Manor is a tumbledown ruin in need of major repair!" Harry cried angrily, one hand clutching his Medallion of Inheritance. "How dare she talk like that about my home? It's beautiful, the best home anyone could ask for."

Severus chuckled at how defensive Harry was over his beloved manor. Then again, as the heir, he was tied to the land and would feel very strongly about anyone badmouthing it. He was angry as well, but more adept at hiding it.  "That is very true, son. There is no place like our home.  Skeeter wouldn't know the difference between truth and a lie if she were given Veritaserum."

"That's for sure! I'm sorry, Dad."

"You have no need to apologize, Harry. That Skeeter woman ought to be apologizing on her knees for writing such trash." Severus sighed and looked at the clock on the wall. "It's almost time for you to get to class, Harry. Off with you now."

Harry allowed himself to be shooed out the door and then he headed to Transfiguration, wishing McGonagall would teach him a spell to transfigure a person into an inanimate object, like a telephone. Now wouldn't that be irony?

* * * * * *

Saturday, 6:30 AM:

The ten fourth-year Slytherins, including Draco, were yawning and rubbing their eyes when they filed into Snape's office that Saturday morning. All of them were sleepy and more than a few were irritable and apprehensive.  They all knew their Head had a short fuse and had been plenty riled at them for starting a brawl in the corridor. Some of them also recalled how Pansy had been punished with detentions and also Nott and Avery.  Those two were trembling in their trainers, for this was now the third time they had brought the wrath of their Potions Master down upon their own heads. 

All of them stood in a row before Snape's desk, standing at attention, waiting for their teacher to come in. 

Severus, who was in his lab adjacent to the office, and had a concealed window magicked to look like a wall, could see them all clearly. He made them stand and stew for several minutes, watching them shift from foot to foot and squirm guiltily.  He knew that waiting scared the little brats senseless even worse than a lecture, because then they had time to think up possible punishments and worry over what would happen to them. 

Finally he took pity upon them and entered the room from the connecting laboratory door, his black cloak billowing, his face set in rigid and stern disapproval. Several of the Slytherins blanched, but none of them moved.  And all of them kept their eyes at half mast and a few were staring at the floor.

Snape paced to his desk and stood with his arms folded. He had learned over the years that such a posture served to intimidate and he used his height and reputation to his advantage. "So.  It would seem all of you have forgotten Slytherin House Rule Number One, correct?"

A chorus of, "Yes, sir," echoed through the office.

"Would any of you like to tell me what the number one rule is?"

Unsurprisingly, Draco was the only one who volunteered. The others were either too sleepy or too frightened.

Stifling a yawn, his son replied, "The number one rule of Slytherin House is to present a united front, which means no quarreling with each other in public, sir."

"Correct, Malfoy.  You should have all learned that rule at the end of your first year of Hogwarts.  But it would seem you have forgotten it and need a reminder." He scowled ferociously at them and they all hung their heads. "I cannot tell you how disappointed and disgusted I am at your behavior. Whatever the provocation, you have no excuse for drawing wands and hexing one another. None!  Your lack of self-discipline is appalling.  I expected better of all of you. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

There was silence, then Draco said, "Sorry, sir."

The others followed suit.

"Good, you ought to be. Since it seems you enjoy fighting amongst yourselves like a bunch of hotheaded impulsive Gryffindors, your detention will reflect that."

Draco paled. There was something about the way Snape said that . . .Oh, crap. He's using his Sergeant Snape voice and that is really NOT good. That was the way Harry and he described Severus when he was going to give them a workout that would make them think they had joined the bloody army. 

The others looked confused.  "Sir?" quavered Millicent. "What are we going to be doing?"

Severus smirked evilly. "Miss Bulstrode, you are going to be dueling until you  cannot stand up and your wands are falling out of your hands. Then we shall see if you think it an acceptable response to a classmate's taunts. Come with me."

He stood and swept towards the door. 

They followed, still not understanding what he had planned for them.  Except for Draco, who was cursing himself for an impulsive idiot the whole way out of the dungeon and out of the castle.

Snape halted just beyond the courtyard and waved his wand, Transfiguring his clothing into black exercise clothing.  The Slytherins gaped at him in shock.  He pointed his wand at each of them, and their uniforms became clothing suitable to work out in.  "Now then. First you will all run ten laps about the castle perimeter. Run, not walk! Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir!" they responded.

"Is he serious?" whined Avery.

Severus marched up to him and got right in his face, snarling, "Avery, you doubt me? Start running, and now you get one lap extra for questioning me. Well? Why are you all standing about like imbeciles? Move!"

All of them jumped and Draco began to jog in a measured pace about the castle.  He knew better than to start running full out, because then he would tire too quickly and end up throwing up.  Blaise followed, as did Millicent, Crabbe, and Goyle. 

Severus waited until the last of his Slytherins had begun to run before loping alongside the group, making sure everyone was trying his or her best and not loafing about.  Ten laps was a decent exercise for them, a warm-up for him, who had been conditioned long ago while learning kin-sa-dor.  He kept a sharp eye out for stragglers and bellowed at Nott and Avery for talking and not running.

"Do you want another lap, mister?"

Avery panted and groaned, "No, sir, professor!"

"Then  quit flapping your jaw and move your arse! Now!"

 Draco winced, for though Snape was not particularly loud, his tone snapped and crackled like a whip. He kept his head down and just concentrated on running.  Around and around and around.  His legs were aching and burning by the sixth lap and from the sounds behind him, his Housemates were starting to get winded and achy too. 

"Ohh! My feet are killing me."

"How much longer do we have to run?"

"Can't breathe! My throat's closing up."

"Quit whining and just run." Snape growled, pacing them effortlessly.

Several of his students shot him glances of annoyance and amazement, for they did not know he could run so quickly and so long. 

But his long legs ate up the distance and he was not even breathing hard. He counted off the laps as they were completed.

Draco hid a proud grin. He knew that Severus was in such good shape because of his kin-sa-dor training. He himself was starting to breathe hard, but not enough to complain about it. He had learned the hard way not to whine during Snape's training sessions.

By the time Severus called a halt, his Slytherins were staggering and bent over, groaning at how tired they were.  He allowed them a five minute rest before growling, "Up, you lazy serpents! You're not done yet, not by a long shot. Let's go. Up to the seventh floor, jog it. Move!"

They did, whining under their breath.

"Damn drill sergeant!"

"This really sucks!"

Upon reaching the Room of Requirement, Severus opened the door and led them inside. 

Draco recognized the set-up as the same one he and Harry had entered a few nights past. The room was bare except for ten practice dummies lined up against the wall. 

"Now then, children.  Here are your opponents. They are animated to respond as if they were wizards against any hex or curse you cast.  They will attack and defend until you score an incapacitating hit upon them or you are defeated."

"They'll cast real spells at us?" asked Blaise.

"No, Mr. Zabini. They will be illusions, except for the minor hexes. The most they will do is cast a Stinging Hex upon you. But you will feel as if a hex or curse hit you."

He waved his wand at the dummies, activating them. "Begin!"

Snape stepped off to the side as the students began casting at their mock opponents. 

They soon discovered  that fighting the practice dummies was harder, much harder, than they anticipated. The dummies were trained to push their opponents, to make them feel like they'd been in a real duel, and they did this surprisingly well.

Out of all of them, only Draco and Goyle managed to defeat their dummy in about six minutes. The rest of them were scrambling for cover and yelping as the dummies cast various hexes upon them. When they faltered or miscast a jinx, the dummies cast Stinging Hexes upon them. And while the Stinging Hexes weren't truly harmful, they were unpleasant and made your skin throb afterwards.

Severus critiqued them as they fought, moving about and lecturing when necessary.  His tongue was razor sharp and as he promised, he made his Slytherins fight until they were exhausted and their wands were practically falling out of their fingers.

At the end of two and a half hours they were ready to drop and at last Snape called a halt.

"I trust you have learned your lesson and will think before you pull a wand next time?" he inquired, his voice silky with sarcasm.

All of them nodded, too tired to see straight, panting and dripping with sweat.

He waved his wand and their exercise clothing was transfigured back into their robes and uniforms.

"Very well. You are dismissed."

They trooped out of the room, some limping from pulled muscles, others complaining of how tired they were or how much their head hurt. One thing they had all learned well and that was to never ever test Severus Snape in that fashion again. 

* * * * * *

The next morning, Draco was so sore he could hardly move, and he was glad this was Sunday and he could sleep in. Until he recalled he had Quidditch practice and he forced himself to crawl out of bed and into the shower.  The rest of the boys were still asleep, except for Greg and Vince, who were Beaters and also had to get up.

"Merlin, but I think I'm going to need a cane," whimpered Vince, tottering to the bathroom. "I feel as stiff as my great-uncle Morris. And he's like a hundred! Ohh!"

"Take a long hot shower," Draco advised. "Meet you in the hall for breakfast."

At breakfast he saw Harry, sitting alone at the Gryffindor table, since he was the only one of his House awake this morning. Draco walked over and sat down next to him. "Hey, Harry."

"Hi.  You look like hell, dragon," Harry muttered. "What did Dad do to you?"

"He made us all run ten laps around the castle and then he gave us one of his drill sergeant training sessions. I feel like a dragon stomped me into the ground and then some."

"Oh.  Poor you."

"Tell me about it." Draco grimaced and picked up a cup of tea that had appeared in front of him.  "I swear, Harry, don't ever get on his bad side like that." He put a hand to the small of his back, grimacing. "I'm lucky I can walk after yesterday morning. And I'm in pretty good condition and had some idea of what to expect.  Just wait till you see the others. Especially Nott and Avery. Those boneheads kept whining and saying how unfair he was and he gave them extra laps and time with the dummies for being whiny brats. They're going to be so stiff it'll be a miracle if they can get out of bed."

"Ouch! I should feel sorry for them, but after what they've pulled . . .they sort of deserve it," Harry said, biting into his bacon and egg sandwich. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, recalling the time Snape had dueled Lockhart and had blown the braggart away in seconds.  It was then that Harry got a brilliant idea.

"Ummm . . .Draco?"

"What?" the other growled grumpily.

"I was thinking, you know how we're always complaining that sometimes Dad doesn't have time to teach us defense because of his classes? And Moody only teaches us theory and hardly ever lets us practice for real?"

Draco yawned and gulped more tea. "Yeah? So?"

"So . . .what if we revived the Dueling Club?"

Draco stared at him. "You mean that pathetic excuse for a club Lockhart made us join in second year?"

"Yes, but ours won't be pathetic. We could ask Dumbledore for permission and explain we want to have a new club to . . ." Harry chewed his lower lip.  " . . .err, to foster interHouse relations or whatever. We could allow anyone who wanted to from all the Houses to join and teach them what we know about defense.  What do you think?"

"I think you're . . .bloody brilliant!" Draco said. "Sometimes, little brother, you totally amaze me.  But we have to have clear-cut rules and penalties if they break them.  We'll draw up a contract and if someone breaks any of the major rules, out their arse goes."

They spent the rest of breakfast discussing what rules the club should have and when Draco rose to go and play Quidditch, Harry said he would make his way to Dumbledore's office and tell him about their idea.

* * * * * *

 Dumbledore was delighted at the two brothers' ingenuity and agreed wholeheartedly with the re-opening of the Dueling Club. 

Harry recruited Hermione and Katie to make a flyer advertising the new club and they did a supurb job. Filch posted it in the Entrance Hall, where everyone could see it.

Attention Students of All Houses!

The Dueling Club Will Re-Open as

Of

Wednesday Night

All Students Welcome to Participate!

Time: 7 PM

Place: the Great Hall

Must be willing to abide by a contract and

Should inform House Head and Prefects

Learn Defense Like Never Before!

Hosted by Draco Malfoy and Harry Snape

They posted the flyer on Sunday night.

By Wednesday they had twenty-five students wanting to be members, including Neville, Ron, Hermione, Katie, and Ginny from Gryffindor, Luna, Cho Chang, Padma Patil, and Terry Boot from Ravenclaw, Justin, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and Derek Maisley from Hufflepuff, and Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, Millicent, Marcus Flint, and Shannon Gagnon from Slytherin. 

Harry was amazed at the response his little idea had received, and was proud and happy that their Dueling Club was off to such a good start.  Draco and he had already begun planning what spells they were going to teach and decided the best way to handle that many students was to pair them off in groups. 

Both Phil and Severus were surprised at the two boys' dedication and had told them they would be available if they wished to ask them for advice on how to teach defensive spells beyond the usual Expelliarmus. 

"Thanks, but I think we've got a handle on it so far," Harry said. "And it'll be good practice for me for the tournament.  The first task is coming up."

"Yes. In two weeks," Severus agreed.  "In the meantime, I think this would be a good opportunity for you two to brush up on your combat skills."

"I agree," Phil said, they were all inside Snape's office. "Practice makes perfect."

The two boys groaned at the old saying.  But they were excited for their first session and hoped that all would go well.

"Dad, can we borrow some of your practice dummies from the Room of Requirement?" Harry asked.

"You may," Severus consented. "I will have to show you how to activate them and deactivate them, however."

He led his sons up to the seventh floor and into the secret room.

* * * * * *

At seven o'clock sharp, Draco and Harry were in the Great Hall. They had moved all the tables and benches against the walls and had a large open area to work in. They were standing up on the dais where the staff table was. Next to them were five dummies and a large piece of parchment covered the table. Written on it were the words Members of the New and Improved Dueling Club and next to it was a quill and ink.

Posted upon a large free-standing chalkboard was a list of rules that all the members had to agree to before they would be allowed into the club. The number one rule was no using their lessons to hex or injure any students outside of the club. The number two rule was that everyone had to obey Harry and Draco just as they did any other teacher at school.  Number three stated that all participants must get along with each other for the duration of the sessions, cooperation was a must.  Four stated that no Unforgivables or truly dangerous hexes would be cast or taught here, this was strictly for self defense. Five was an agreement to stop immediately if their instructors thought they were injured too badly to continue or their magical reserves were weakening. The penalty for breaking any of those rules would be immediate dismissal from the club, no excuses.

"Once you sign your name to the scroll on the table, you'll be bound by the rules on the board, just as if you swore upon your Wizard's Honor," Harry said seriously. "So read them all over carefully and think about whether or not you can follow them before you put the quill to the parchment and write your name.  And just so you know, these are the same rules my father makes Draco and I follow when he tutors us in Defense.  We want this to be a fun learning experience for everyone, but also a safe one."

"That's fair," Katie said, and she scanned the rules, then signed her name to the scroll with a flourish.

"How do you know when our magical reserves are low?" asked Hannah.

"Professor Snape taught us a monitoring charm," Draco answered. "We'll cast it at the beginning of each session."

"Are you gonna make us run laps too?" groaned Millicent.

Draco chuckled. "Maybe. You know, running laps helps build up stamina, and that can really help during a duel."

All the Slytherins groaned and the Gryffindors looked smug. Word had gotten around the school about their detention with Snape.

"Just as long as you don't start barking orders at us like your drill sergeant father, Malfoy," warned Flint.

Draco's eyes narrowed.  "Flint, if you sign this you agree to obey me and I'll order you about however I see fit.  I'm your instructor, you don't dictate policy to me."

"Or me." Harry added.

The two brothers stood shoulder to shoulder, expressions of determination and sternness upon their faces, like commanders of an army.

After a moment, Flint nodded grudgingly and dropped his eyes.

One by one, the students came up and signed their names to the parchment.

"We'll meet here every week on Wednesdays, unless there's some reason why we can't," Harry continued. "If the times change or the days, we'll post a notice in the Entrance Hall."

"Now, we want you all to count off, starting with one," Draco said. "When you get to five, stop and start with one again. Remember your number, because that's how we're going to sort you."

Once everyone had been counted, Draco had everyone with the same number form a group. He made sure each group contained members of every House. Thus paired, they each received a practice dummy and dueled it one by one so Harry and Draco could see what spells each student knew. 

But first, both brothers demonstrated their own knowledge of defensive magic by dueling two dummies at once, working as a team. 

It was fun, and by the time they had defeated their opponents, the other students were eying them with newfound respect and admiration.

"Wow, you're good!" Ron said.

"How did you learn all those spells?" asked Ginny.

"Our father taught us," Harry answered.

"He worked our arses off," Draco added.  "But it was worth it. As you'll see."

For this first session, they set the dummies on the beginner level, and watched each student carefully as they cast what defensive or offensive magic they knew. Each student had three tries to disarm or knock out the dummy before it retaliated.

The two Snapes moved around the room, offering tips and instructions on how to hold a wand, make a tighter gesture, and pronounce a spell clearly and precisely.

An hour later, everyone was panting and tired, but satisfied that they had made progress with their dueling and Harry and Draco looked at each other and grinned proudly, a heady sense of accomplishment sweeping through them. 

"You did very well," Draco praised. "Next time we'll have a brief lesson on Disarming Charms and then teach you how to perform a layered Shield Charm."

"Thanks for coming. Good night." Harry added.

The rest of the students filed out, all save for Harry and Draco's best mates and Katie and Hermione.

"Harry, you were positively brilliant!" Katie said. "Even if you did let that walking ragbin knock me on my bum twice."

Harry chuckled. "Hey, that's how you learn." He examined her and asked, "You're not hurt, are you?"

She laughed. "Why? You gonna kiss it better?"

He blushed and muttered, "Maybe."

"Please, you two!" Ron pretended to gag. Then he turned and saw Draco embracing Hermione. "Ahh! Get a room!" He looked over at Crabbe and Goyle. "How can you stand it? They're like . . .glued together."

Crabbe snorted. "Jealous, Weasley?"

Ron gasped. "Err . . .no, of course not! Hermione's like my sister."

"You need to find a girl of your own," Goyle remarked. "Same as us."

Ron flushed. "How? Got any ideas?"

"Uh . . .not really, but maybe if we all put our heads together . . ." Crabbe suggested.

The three single males moved off to a corner of the room and left Draco and Hermione and Harry and Katie to their smooching. They were getting tired of feeling like spare wands and hoped between the three of them they could figure out how to get a date for the Yule Ball.