A/N: This chapter was a little hard to write, because it contains my first attempt at a Harry Potter fight scene. I had to make up a lot of spells and charms, so I hope you don't mind too much. Thanks for the reviews and support!

Review Responses:

The Three Stoogies, thanks, I'm glad you liked the chapter! You'll figure out Al fairly soon, possibly within the next few chapters actually! Enjoy!

BuzzyBeeForever, Morph is very sketch, so I can't really blame you there, lol. Glad you enjoy the chapter and thank you for the reviews!

jddmn13, absolutely! I've been meaning to include it, but I keep running out of space in the chapters. I've rectified it a bit this chapter, but don't worry, you'll be seeing a lot more of her later on!

clarionette, thanks! I'm glad you enjoy the story and the characters. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If you recognize the name/can find it in the Harry Potter Wiki, it's not mine.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Dueling Club Returns

It was a rout.

Despite the Slytherin team's best efforts, James Sirius Potter caught the snitch in a blaze of glory and triumph, winning the game for Gryffindor and making Al start to think that there wasn't all that much justice in the world. Even Leander was forced to admit that despite James' rather obvious personality flaws, he was, objectively, 'a bloody good Seeker'. Still, Al thought, it wouldn't have been so bad if James didn't seize the opportunity to brag about it each time he saw Al or one of his friends. It looked as if his brother had gotten over his earlier concern about Al being in Slytherin, and had gone back to business as usual, which was to make Al's life as difficult as possible.

Not that James needed to help on that score. The incident in the girls' dormitory was still digging its cold fingers into every aspect of Al's daily life, and the weeks wearing on without a culprit or even a suspect only seemed to sour Professor Stonecroft's mood. He was half-convinced that the Slytherin Head of House had given them extra homework in Transfiguration class out of pure spite, despite the fact that Gisela was in their year and Al was decently sure that Stonecroft didn't actually think Scorpius had been responsible.

It was a state of affairs that Circe didn't waste any time commenting on during Herbology class directly afterwards, when she, Al, and Gisela were pruning singing nettles together. The plants, which made a very nice humming sound when prodded, needed to be kept in tune so that their leaves could be used to brew Canoricalix, a potion that would grant the drinker perfect pitch. Al had been working on his portion of the plant with a pair of delicate gardening shears, trying in vain to find the plant's off-key leaves and branches so that he could snip them off, when Circe made a disgusted noise, slamming her own shears down onto the workbench. Al looked up, startled, and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed, but Leander and Tristan, who were working on their own plant, seemed not to notice, nor did Scorpius and Rheia. Professor Longbottom, who at that moment had been prodding at Scorpius and Rheia's plant with his wand, scratching his head and trying to work out why the plant had curled in on itself and now stubbornly refused to sing, didn't even glance in their direction.

"...Circe?" Gisela ventured, sounding concerned.

"I understand why he's angry, but that doesn't give him the right to take it out on us!" Circe said, hardly needing the prompting. "And—and—."

She stared down at the tabletop, and Al was startled to see her eyes mist over with something that looked like tears. Her hands tightened around the handle of the gardening shears, her knuckles turning white.

Al blinked at her. "Everything alright?"

Circe sucked in a breath and looked up, as if surprised to see the two of them there. She shook her head and the tension left her, her hand releasing its white-knuckled grip on the gardening shears. She seemed to deflate in that moment, as if whatever it was that she had been angry about had also been keeping her upright.

"Oh," she said, pushing her dark curls out of her face. "Oh—it's not—it's nothing, I'm just upset. At Stonecroft, that is. I mean, aren't you?"

"Sure," said Al, exchanging a glance with Gisela. The other girl's bewildered expression told him that she had no clue what this was about either. "Sure, it's unfair. Um, are you sure you're—"

"Alright? Of course I'm alright," said Circe, straightening up and wiping her grimy hands off onto her robes. "I think this plant needs more fertilizer though. Just—just give me a moment. I'll be right back."

She turned around without a word, making her way over to the supply cabinet. Al and Gisela watched her go, puzzled. From its place between them, the singing nettle made a sort of half-hearted warble, its many branches struggling to produce a clear chord. Al looked down sharply, having almost forgotten that the plant was there. He had just picked up his own gardening shears again when Gisela spoke, turning towards him.

"She's been like this since breakfast," she said, her voice soft. "A letter from her family."

"Her family?" Al asked, thinking back to what he knew. His dad didn't really like to bring Auror business home, but he thought he had heard him and his Uncle Ron mentioning something about the Rosiers, once or twice.

Gisela nodded gravely, picking up her own shears and poking at the plant's branches to get them to sing. Al, studying her clearly now for the first time, noticed that she looked fairly miserable, her face pale enough beneath her light brown hair that every freckle was visible. He wondered if she was getting enough sleep.

"Are you...alright?" Al asked, not sure what else to say. "I mean, with everything that's been going on?"

"I'm fine," Gisela said, sounding glum. "I mean, how can I not be? Circe looks out for me. I just..." She drew in a deep breath, cutting off one of the branches with a resounding snik. "I wish she didn't have to. She'll never say so, but it's hard on her. It's probably hard on everyone..."

Al opened his mouth to say that he didn't mind helping her and that he was fairly certain that no one else minded either, but Gisela beat him to it, running her hands carefully through the plant's branches and coaxing them into singing again. Over the clear note produced by that section of the plant, she said, "Rheia asked me the other day why the hat put me in Slytherin. How am I supposed to know? I've been wondering the same thing myself...lately. When I got Sorted, I still didn't understand everything. I didn't know anything about any of the Houses, about all—of this. I just—wanted to belong somewhere. That's all I wanted."

She fell silent, distraught. Al stared at her, grasping for the words to say. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that no one really understood why they were Sorted the way they were.

Except that would have been a lie. He knew exactly why he had ended up in Slytherin.

I have a suggestion to make, young Potter...

He had waited too long. He knew it the moment Gisela's shoulders slumped, her eyes dropping back to the workbench. "And here I am bothering you with this," she said. "I really am just a burden on everyone. Maybe they're right—whoever they are. Maybe I don't belong in Slytherin..."

"No, Gisela—," Al began, but before he could even start to say anything to her, Circe reappeared at the table, a small bag of fertilizer clutched in her hands.

"Sorry I took so long," she said, plopping it onto the table with a sort of finality that called an end to any conversation between them. "It took me a moment to find what I was looking for. What did I miss?"

He was still thinking about Circe and Gisela when they were making their way back from their dormitory to the Great Hall for lunch, and would have walked right past the crowd assembled around the bulletin board in the entrance hall had it not been for Tristan and Leander, who had grabbed him by the arms and drawn him to a stop, calling his attention to it. The group that stood around the board were mostly from the lower years, although there were a few older students mixed in among them, all talking excitedly among themselves.

"What do you think is going on?" Tristan asked, frowning at the crowd.

"I don't know," Leander said. "But hey, isn't that Lorcan Scamander over there? We should go see."

Al didn't have any real objections to that, so the three of them shouldered their way to the front of the crowd, where, as Leander pointed out, Lorcan Scamander was studying a large poster. It was that poster that had very clearly captured the crowd's attention, set up in a section of the board that had been given over to extracurricular activities.

THE HOGWARTS DUELING CLUB

is now taking beginners.

Meetings are Tuesday and Thursday evenings in the Great Hall.

Please see Prof. A. Stonecroft or Prof. E. Belrose for details.

Interested students welcome!

First and Second years: You are welcome to learn spells and forms, but be advised that only students in their third year and above are permitted to spar.

Sincerely,

Victoire Weasley, Head Girl, Dueling Club President

Parthenia Carran, Dueling Club Vice-President

"Oh, right," Al said. "I remember Victoire talking about the Dueling Club. I think a bunch of my cousins are in it too."

"Al, you have cousins in everything," Leander pointed out.

Al chose not to reply, since it was mostly true. He went back to studying the notice, as did the others.

"...Well, it sounds like it's worth checking out," said Leander after a while. "Do you think we'll actually get to duel anyone?"

Tristan shook his head. "I doubt it," he said. "Look right here, it says that first and second years are only going to be allowed to learn spells. I don't think we'll get to practice."

"Still might be fun," said Leander, glancing over at Lorcan. "What about you, Scamander? You look interested."

Interested seemed to be a bit of an understatement, in Al's opinion. Lorcan was looking at the notice with a sort of quiet intensity, like he wanted to take it apart and put it back together again. He looked up at Leander's words, as if startled to hear someone actually speaking to him.

"I—yes," he said, after a while. "I'd be interested. Are you three going as well, then?"

"I'm going," said Leander, frowning as he looked back at the two of them. "How about you, Al?"

"I think I'll come along as well," Al said. "It sounds interesting."

But it wasn't the dueling he was particularly interested in, he thought, as he studied the poster. His eyes kept getting drawn to the signatures at the bottom of it, to the name that stood just below Victoire's.

Parthenia Carran.

Al showed up at the Great Hall just a little after dinner on Tuesday night, accompanied by Leander, Tristan, Gisela and Circe. Rose, who had seemed interested in the idea when Al mentioned it to her, met them there. Al noticed that while she still eyed Tristan and Leander with some amount of distrust, she seemed to have relaxed quite a bit around the Slytherin girls, and that before long, she, Circe and Gisela were talking up a storm, mostly about some band that Al wasn't sure he had heard of before now.

The six of them filed into the Great Hall together, and were quickly directed over towards Professor Belrose, who was seated at a small table that had been placed near the entrance. The Hall's four great tables had been pushed aside to the outer walls, clearing a large space in the center of the room. As Al watched, a group of older students waved their wands, laying down lines on the floor that seemed to mark off some sort of field. The Hall was already beginning to fill with students, most of them third years and older, and Al and his friends clustered closer together, somewhat intimidated.

Professor Belrose, however, quickly put them at ease. The Charms professor offered each of them a warm smile as they approached, as if they were doing nothing more than walking into Charms class on a normal, autumn afternoon.

"Let's see...it's Mr. Potter, Mr. Nott, Mr. Lynch, Miss Flynn, Miss Rosier, and...Miss Weasley, isn't it?" he asked, writing their names, years, and Houses down on the piece of parchment spread in front of him. "Welcome to the Dueling Club. We start beginners off quite slowly, so there's no need for concern. You'll be working with me today, once we get everyone settled. In the meantime, you're free to wander around, or wait with the other beginners in that corner."

He directed them towards a group of people that were seated at one end of one of the Great Hall's long benches, then turned to deal with the group waiting behind them. Al turned to go in that direction, Leander and Tristan falling in beside him and the girls trailing behind.

"Belrose is going to teach us?" Leander asked, once they were out of earshot. "I never really marked him for much of a duelist."

"Shows what you know," Circe hissed from behind them, her voice still somehow managing to carry despite the fact that she was whispering. "Professor Belrose fought in the Wizarding War! They say he's an accomplished duelist, although he doesn't like doing it anymore. He and Professor Stonecroft founded this club together."

"Re-founded it, I think," Rose said. "Although to hear my dad talk about it, what happened with Lockhart hardly counts."

"If he doesn't like doing it, why teach it?" Leander murmured. He was frowning, although it was clear that Circe's rebuke had embarrassed him.

"He probably thinks it's important to learn self-defense after everything that happened," Tristan mused, looking around at the room.

"Um, sorry," Gisela said, looking up. "Everyone keeps talking about the war, but I'm not sure I understand. I mean, I know it happened before we were born, but..."

Leander and Circe looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. Even Tristan seemed subdued, although he wasn't possessed by the sudden, inescapable urge to study his own shoes. He looked back at Gisela, his expression grim. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm sure you'll hear about it soon enough."

"You can ask Al and Rose," Leander said, his tone uncharacteristically sharp. "I'm sure they'd be happy to tell you."

"Maybe later," Al said, before Gisela could ask. It didn't seem like the right place or time to bring that up, especially considering the reactions of the people around them. A glance at Rose told him that she felt the same way.

Thankfully, the heavy mood that had settled over them was lifted somewhat when they reached the other beginners, and Lorcan came up to them. The Ravenclaw boy wore his usual reserved expression, but seemed more animated and excited than usual, so that he was almost smiling.

"Some of the other Ravenclaws from my year are here," Lorcan said, gesturing at a small group of first years that sat clustered together around the end of the bench. He looked quizzically at Rose. "Is it just you? I would have thought you wouldn't be able to keep the Gryffindors away from something like this."

"The others are probably coming later," Rose said. "I came a little bit early."

"Hmm," said Lorcan, his eyes moving over the room.

"How've you been, Lorcan?" Al asked, more to make conversation than anything else.

"Alright, I suppose," said Lorcan, turning towards him. "Things have been fairly quiet lately, although Mum and Dad are talking about making another trip out to South America, so we might be staying at Hogwarts over Christmas break. Yourself?"

"Fine," said Al, wondering if there was any point to telling Lorcan about Slytherin House's own internal struggles. Probably not. There wasn't much that the Ravenclaw could actually do about it, and for some strange reason, it felt like a betrayal, like letting Lorcan know where Slytherin House was weak would give any Ravenclaws who meant less than well an opening that they didn't need.

Professor Stonecroft was right, Al thought miserably. It wasn't as if Slytherin enjoyed a stellar reputation these days.

"Lysander isn't with you?" Rose asked, frowning at Lorcan.

Lorcan shook his head. "He isn't interested in things like this," he said, his tone making it sound as though he wasn't particularly upset about that development.

"Speaking of brothers," Leander began, "Don't look now, Al, but your brother's here."

"Joy," said Al, glancing in that direction anyway.

Sure enough, James was there, accompanied by a group of Gryffindor third-years. Molly Weasley was conspicuously absent, but Louis, Victoire, and Dominique were all there, Dominique leaning against a wall surrounded by a group of her friends while Victoire busied herself with walking around the room, going from student to student and speaking to them, and occasionally reporting in to Professor Stonecroft. Louis was standing with some of his friends as well, laughing with them while a group of girls looked on admiringly from a distance.

He caught sight of Parthenia Carran standing a little ways apart from the others, apparently busy with laying down the field and casting protective spells around the perimeter. Al frowned at her, remembering Morph's words. She didn't seem to be particularly close to anyone.

"Alright there, Al?" Freddie Weasley asked, walking up to them and jolting Al out of his contemplations. He turned towards his cousin, who plopped down onto the bench with a grin, settling back against the long table behind him. "I was in this club last year, but they don't let second-years join the fun either," he said, gesturing at James and the older students, who were clustered around the field. Al noticed that they seemed to be getting started now, Professor Stonecroft standing in the center of the group and calling them to order.

Before Al could say anything about that, Professor Belrose approached them, the roll of parchment in his hand. The first and second years, and some of the older students who had just joined the Dueling Club, drew in close around him.

"Welcome again," he said. "As you may have surmised, some of our more experienced students are going to be working on sparring today. You've joined the Dueling Club at a very exciting time—the International Dueling Federation has agreed to open up an inter-school branch of their annual tournament, and Hogwarts is planning on fielding a team. The members of that team will be chosen from our more senior students at the end of the year, but don't worry! We expect that this will be an annual opportunity, so if you find that dueling is your passion, there will be many more chances to participate in events like this in your future. Let's begin with the basics. One of the most important, and easily overlooked aspects of dueling is your stance, so we'll begin there. Everyone take out your wands..."

For the next several minutes, Belrose worked with them on stance and grip, adjusting their postures and showing them the most efficient way to hold one's wand out so that they were ready to react to anything and difficult to disarm. He walked around the room making corrections, and once each of them had their stance down to something acceptable, shifted the lesson towards basic countercurses. He worked them through the basics of a Deflecting Charm, a simpler yet less-effective version of a Shield Charm, and then had them practice it in controlled conditions, having them line up and take turns deflecting minor jinxes that he sent their way.

Al, caught up in laughing from an attack of the Tickling Curse that he hadn't been able to deflect, looked up to see the brightly colored ball of light that had been hurled at Rose bounce off of her perfect Deflecting Charm, slamming into the net of protective spells and wards that surrounded the room before dispersing into mist. They went on that way for some time, and while the spells and lessons were exciting in their own way, their section of the Dueling Club didn't feel all that different from an extra Defense Against the Dark Arts class, especially not when compared to the shouts of triumph and exultation and the sound of spell clashing against spell that came from the other side of the room.

The highlight of the evening happened about an hour into their practice, when Professor Belrose called a halt to their latest exercise and invited them over to the other side of the room to watch a spar between two of the older students. Al, who at this point would have been excited to see any actual dueling, felt his heart leap with excitement when he realized who the combatants were. One of them, standing poised on her end of the field with her wand in her hand, was his eldest cousin Victoire, her long red hair tied in a ponytail behind her. The other, a frown on her face and her wand out in front of her, was Parthenia Carran.

"We'll go to three strikes," Professor Stonecroft said, moving between them. He came to a stop at the edge of the field, his wand out as he watched the two of them carefully. "At my signal. Bow."

Victoire and Parthenia leaned forward, bowing to each other, but it seemed to Al as if they did so with reluctance, neither of them eager to take their eyes off the other.

"Wands out," Stonecroft directed, and Al found himself waiting with bated breath as both Victoire and Parthenia raised their wands, pointing them at each other.

Professor Stonecroft raised his own wand, letting it fall through the air between them. "Begin."

"Impedimenta!" Parthenia cried, snapping her wand towards Victoire almost immediately.

A beam of light shot towards Victoire, and the eldest Weasley moved her wand quickly to intercept it.

"Protego!" she cried, the shimmering light of the Shield Charm appearing in the air in front of her. Parthenia's curse bounced off of it, slamming into the defensive shields that surrounded the dueling field before it could strike any of the onlookers that pressed in close to the line, watching the duel with wide eyes. Victoire moved quickly, ducking out from behind her Shield Charm and pointing her wand at Parthenia from the side. "Deprimo!"

The wind picked up, a gale bursting forth from the tip of Victoire's wand. It skimmed the floor between Victoire and Parthenia, striking the Slytherin girl in the ankles and knocking her to the ground.

"Weasley, one point!" Professor Stonecroft shouted, but Victoire was moving before he could even speak, whipping her wand forward in a complicated pattern.

"Incarcerous!" she said.

Ropes burst forth from the tip of her wand, shooting towards Parthenia. The Slytherin girl scowled, rolling over quickly to get her feet under her as she waved her wand in front of her. "Incendio!"

Bright flames bloomed over the ropes, reducing them to ashes as Parthenia jumped to her feet, running towards Victoire. She moved to flank her, pointing her wand at Victoire's side. "Expulso!"

The flames had blinded Victoire, and she blinked in alarm, her wand raised as she casted another Shield Charm. Before the shield could fully take form, an explosion tore through the air between them, knocking Victoire off her feet to shouts of dismay from the half of the room that included the Weasleys and the other Gryffindors and shouts of approval from Parthenia's supporters.

"Carran, one!" Stonecroft shouted as Victoire conjured a cushion to break her fall, then spun around, the point of her wand pointed at Parthenia's chest.

"Aguamenti!"

Parthenia, startled by the sudden counterattack, didn't have a chance to react as a jet of water shot outward from Victoire's wand, slamming into her chest and sending her stumbling back. Before Parthenia could react, and not even waiting to hear Stonecroft's shout of "Weasley, two!", Victoire raised her wand up close to her own chest, drawing in a deep breath.

"Praestigemi," Al heard her say.

There was a shimmering light, and then there were two Victoires, both of them standing apart from Parthenia. Al blinked and rubbed at his eyes, but the pair of them remained, identical expressions on their faces as they circled her. A murmur of approval moved through the crowd around him, and from over his left shoulder, he heard Rose take in a sharp breath. Parthenia got to her feet warily, wand out in front of her, looking left and right at the two figures. Her mouth moved, as if she was muttering under her breath.

"The Body-Double Charm," Rose breathed. "I'd heard that was ridiculously advanced…"

But there wasn't time to marvel. Parthenia's face split into an angry scowl, and she moved quickly, her wand pointed at the ground at Victoire and her double's feet as she spun in a circle. "Aguamenti!" she said, and then "Glacialis!"

Water jetted outward from her wand, dampening the ground beneath Victoire's feet. As the second incantation touched it, it froze to ice, forcing both Victoire and her body double to work to keep their footing and buying Parthenia a few more moments. But the ice had done another thing entirely. Looking at the pair of Victoires now, Al noticed that one of them was moving naturally over the ice, trying to stay standing, while the other moved in awkward, jerky motions, mimicking the first. Parthenia's scowl turned into a grin of triumph and she spun to face the real Victoire.

"Oppugno!" she said.

Shards of ice broke off from the circle at Victoire's feet, shooting towards her from below. Victoire's eyes widened, and she quickly swept her wand in a circle in front of her, shouting "Incendio!" Flames burst outward from her wand, melting the ice, but one of the shards sneaked past the flames, slicing a thin line across her cheek even as she jerked her head back to avoid it.

"Carran, two!" Stonecroft cried.

The duel was heating up now. Behind him, the crowd roared, and Al found himself shoved forward as people crowded in around him, trying to get a better view. On the field in front of him, Victoire was leaping back, her wand moving in quick slashes in front of her as she cut down any remaining ice shards. Parthenia grinned as the shards shot towards Victoire, pointing her wand at the Gryffindor girl as she opened her mouth to cast another spell.

Al's breath caught in his throat, but before Parthenia could even speak, Victoire's wand moved, flicking towards Parthenia's face.

"Langlock!"

Parthenia's head jerked back with the force of the spell, her tongue gluing itself to the roof of her mouth. In one fluid motion, Victoire spun away from the remaining shards, bringing her wand to bear as she pointed it at Parthenia. "Expelliarmus! Petrificus Totalus!"

Parthenia's wand flew out of her hand as her limbs seized, locking together so that the only thing that moved were her eyes, darting wildly from left to right. Victoire caught Parthenia's wand to cheers and applause as Stonecroft stepped forward, declaring her the victor. Al found himself shouting as well, his voice lost in the torrent as a crowd of older Gryffindors moved forward to greet Victoire, and even Dominique, in a rare moment of affection, let out a whoop of laughter and clapped her sister on the back.

"Come on!" Rose said, tugging at his wrist to go join them.

Al hesitated, his eyes moving towards Parthenia. She was picking herself up off the ground now, Stonecroft having cast the counter-spell at the instant the duel ended. There was a scowl on her face, her eyes narrowed in an expression that could only be rage as a boy stepped forward to help her to her feet, her eyes fixing on the crowd that surrounded Victoire.

He stopped walking. Rose frowned at him, looking back. "Al, what—?" she began.

"Who's that boy?" Al asked, inclining his head towards the boy that was helping Parthenia up, frowning at her in some concern. Rose glanced at him, her brow furrowing in concentration.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But I think I've seen him around. He might be a Ravenclaw. You should ask Lorcan if he knows him."

Lorcan.

Al's head whipped around, looking for Lorcan Scamander, but it was impossible to pick out a single first-year in the throng. Before he knew it, Rose was dragging him forward again, and he had no choice but to follow her, losing himself deeper in the crowd.

A/N: Etymologies of magical things original to this fic:

Singing nettle – A play on 'stinging nettle'. Instead of stinging you, these plants sing.

Canoricalix – Derived from the Latin nouns 'canor' meaning 'tune' and 'calix' meaning cup or chalice. Literally 'tune cup' and sort of a play on words, since when someone is tone deaf, people tend to say things like 'he/she couldn't carry a tune in a cup/bucket'.

Revorisio – Derived from the Latin word 'revorsio' or 'reverse'. A counterspell to Transfiguration, it reverts items that have been influenced by magic back to their prior state.

Praestigemi – Derived from two Latin words 'praestigia', meaning 'illusion' or 'trick' and 'gemino' meaning 'twin'.

Glacialis – Freezing spell, derived from the English word 'glacial' or the Latin word 'glacies'.