Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: Ooook, I took your comments to heart and wrote a "quick one". Not terribly long, but at least it's a life sign :) Got a bit carried away by real life in the loooong mean time since the last update, but I am still determined to finish this one (and my other story :D). Hope some of you readers are still out there ;)

Chapter 6

Ereb and Liandra waited outside the training room Ragdanovich had reserved for the duelling training. They stood a few steps away from a large group of Gryffindors, who seemed very eager yet also a bit insecure.

"You still think this is a good idea?" Ereb whispered. "Some of them look like they'll drop their wand just by staring at them…"

"You know this whole 'social interaction' thing we've been talking about?" She chuckled. "Getting to know people? Maybe we'll even enjoy ourselves."

He eyed the other students again. Two giggling girls were whipping their heads away, trying to hide the fact that they were ogling them. He sighed. The rest of the week had passed quickly enough, even the detention. The cleaning was not the worst of it – given the stuff they had had to do in the past together with their parents – but managing Liandra and stopping her from turning the cupboards in the slimy dungeons to smithereens had been a royal pain in his ass. When she was in this mood, it was almost impossible, but still she was his sister and all that. He absentmindedly brushed a few strands of hairs out of his face, and felt at least one girl watch his every move. Another sigh. He was not used to this kind of attention. Attacking demons and unmentionable things in the darkest corners of this world was small fry compared to this…emotional stuff.

A by then well known voice of Russian origin bellowed "Stupefy!" out of the blue and he saw the group of teenagers burst apart like a school of fish meeting a shark. Still, one was too slow and slumped to the ground.

"Well," Ragdanovich said, stepping out of the shadows at the end of the corridor, "we have to practice, I see."

A few unsure acknowledging grunts emerged from the teenagers, while he and Liandra simply nodded matter-of-factly.

Ragdanovich walked the few meters through the corridor and opened the doors. It was a well-lit room with high wood-panelled walls and a burgundy-red plush carpet. A piste dominated the room, around ten meters long and about a meter wide. This, Ereb presumed, would be their main training ground. He did not have any experience in ritualised duelling, only in real, tough-as-nails fights for survival. His parents probably wouldn't win the 'Best Parents of the Year' award but damn if it didn't prepare them for the rough world. A little duelling shouldn't be a problem, he was convinced.

"Gather around!" Ragdanovich bellowed and the group of twenty or so Gryffindors moved into a rough semi-circle around the Professor.

"Now then," he nodded, a big smile on his face, "welcome to the duelling club. You might think it is just an hour of fun, meeting friends and doing a bit of magic." He looked sternly at each of them and continued in his thick Russian accent. "It is not." He paused theatrically. "In fact it is a bloody serious business. Instead of those Quidditch wimps, you play around with the forces of magic itself, battling not only stupid Bludgers but the mind and soul of a wizard himself. It is dangerous, don't delude yourself. An error can have dire consequences but, rest assured, no one has died yet." He beamed broadly, "but now, let's gets started!"

He climbed on the piste and looked down on them. "The basics: two duellists, ten meters distance at the beginning. All curses allowed except of course the Unforgiveables, no outside help. Winner is who knocks out the opponent or makes him surrender. Falling of the piste is possible, but won't stop the duel. Each team has ten duellists plus five backups; the overall winner is the team with the last standing duellist. Simple, no?" He pointed at a five teenagers, "Piter, Eleonora, Hermione, Carl, and Fiona, up here!"

The five elegantly jumped up on the piste, looking sharp and agile. It set them apart slightly from the rest of the group, but still he was less than impressed. Looking into their eyes, he didn't see the spark in them; that what made you absolutely, irrefutably want to win – at any cost. "Those are the rest of last year's team. Sadly, every year we have to let go of the graduates, but it also means we have ten spots to fill. He walked off the piste, and randomly pointed at two Gryffindors. "You, up there! Show me what's in you!"

Ereb was watching the first duels – if you could call them that. Timidly throwing spells at each other was not exactly nerve-wracking.

"You think we make team?" he sarcastically asked Liandra.

"I am not sure," she answered with a grin, "the competition is pretty stiff."

That earned her a few hurt glances from the nameless rest of the sheep. He and his sister hadn't bothered yet to mingle with the masses. And it was a mutual thing, as they were barely approached, only watched at – carefully.

"You think-" he wanted to start when he heard his name and then another. He sighed slightly and got up and looked at his competition. A deeper sigh came out of his chest. A mouse-brown haired guy seemingly named Adam got up from the bench they were sitting on. When he looked at Ereb, he had to hide a chuckle. Unlike many others, he had a somewhat fierce glare that wanted to say 'I am a powerful wizard and will burn a whole in you', though to Ereb it was more a 'please don't kill me while I look pompous'. They got up the piste and met in the middle to shake hands. He heard his sister chuckle slightly. He knew why… He towered over the little guy by almost two feet. It was rather hilarious, he thought. But well, duel was duel, and he was in it to win it.

Taking their positions at the end of the piste, Ragdanovich boomed "Wands at the ready!"

Ereb took his wand in his hand, keeping it relaxed at his side. Adam, he saw, gripped it so hard he was afraid for his poor wand.

"GO!" Ragdanovich shouted. Almost the same instant, Ereb flicked his wand in a small but efficient movement while at the same time turning slightly to the right to be ready for incoming spells.

His stunning spell hit Adam straight in the face, who was just finished with his far simpler Stupefy spell, the remains of which fizzled to a slow death around the crumpling Adam.

"Oops?" Ereb said. Liandra smiled and the others looked somewhat stunned. Though in the eyes of last year's team he could see something like a glimmer of hope (and a bit of fear, but he guessed they thought: lucky he's on our team).

"Wonderful!" Ragdanovich boomed. "This is what we're looking for! If you manage that level of sophistication with a wand, we will turn Slytherin into a thin red paste and dance on their graves!"