Note: And here we are at the final curtain! I hope it all becomes at least vaguely clear! It should do...possibly!

Thank you to everybody who has reviewed this story, I hope that you have been enjoying it!

Along with this final chapter being posted you will also find a one shot entitled Meet the Fiancee, followed by the first chapter of the last chaptered fic in this series: Meet the Squib.

Thank you to Trixie for plotting with me! It's always good fun! :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

21: The Final

"Fascinating, simply fascinating..."

Teddy Lupin was quite certain that he had never been more bored in his entire life. He glanced over at the clock upon his daughter's bedroom wall and frowned deeply at how late it was becoming.

Archibald Fisher had been crouched on the floor for the past hour, tapping every inch of the cabinet with his wand and fist, pressing his ear to the wood and peering at it curiously through an assortment of magnifying glasses of varying size and thickness. Thus far he had declared the object of intrigue to be fascinating on no less than twenty three occasions, but as of yet had apparently not discovered anything else about it of note.

At long last Fisher rose to his feet, knees clicking in a way that made Teddy want to wince, before straightening his jacket in an almost solemn fashion and turning to inform Teddy:

"Well, Mr. Lupin, what you have here is something very extraordinary indeed."

"Oh?" Teddy said, sitting a little straighter, only to almost bite through his tongue in exasperation when Fisher said:

"Yes, indeed! It's utterly fascinating!"

"Is it really?" Teddy wondered, very nearly sighing, only to suddenly pay more attention again when Fisher explained:

"Aye, it's extremely rare. I would wager there's only been a dozen of them ever made!"

"What is it?" Teddy asked, leaning forward rather keenly to eye the cabinet once again, and Fisher grinned broadly.

"It's what we call an Gellert Guard."

"A...Gellert Guard...?"

"That's right, Mr. Lupin. Named after Gellert Grindelwald, no less!"

"Then my mother was wrong?" Teddy said, leaning back a little in alarm at the name. "It is a Dark object?"

"I wouldn't say she was wrong, no. I daresay the original owner of this piece of furniture was a less than savoury character! But in itself it is not associated with dark magic at all." Fisher reached to run a hand across the polished top of the cabinet, almost as if he were stroking it. "It is of European origin, probably made in late late 1930s, and likely belonged to one of Gellert Grindlewald's most loyal and trusted followers. It is, put simply, a place to store poisons."

"Poisons...?"

"Grindelwald's most trusted followers would have a Gellert Guard in any home which Grindelwald and others would use as a safe house, and should they ever be raided by Aurors with no chance of escape, Grindelwald's instructions to many required them to open their Gellert Guard, in which they would find enough poison to take both their lives and that of any other family members living in the house."

"They'd all commit suicide?"

"To protect Grindelwald's secrets! That is precisely what they did, Mr. Lupin. Of course the makers knew that the contents of the cabinets could be extremely dangerous and to make sure that this last resort only ever occurred as exactly that, an enchantment was placed upon each cabinet in order to seal it closed until the correct moment occurred."

"What opens it?" Teddy wondered, and Fisher turned to offer the younger wizard a somewhat dark look as he murmured:

"Desperation, Mr. Lupin. Pure desperation."

"What did you do?" Carrie asked, and Dora flopped furiously back against her pillows, reaching to rub her fingers against her temple as she muttered:

"Oh I don't know! I'd flung spell after spell at it and I was late back for work! And I stood back and I just thought...open! Just bloody open! I need you to open right now, I'm running out of time! And...that was it!"

"That was it?"

"Yes, that was it! They just...clicked open!"

And Teddy felt his heart begin to race in his chest.

"Poison?" he said again, hands grasping fistfuls of duvet in panic. "They kept poison in there?"

"That's right. Bloody nasty stuff, I should imagine!"

"How...how much...?"

"That's difficult to say. But...enough, I should think!"

Teddy's blood ran utterly cold.

"Oh Merlin..." he breathed. "Please, please, please..."

Fisher turned to offer him a questioning look, but Teddy ignored him, still muttering to himself as he got hurriedly to his feet and bolted for the door.

"Please don't let it be that. Please let it have been empty like Mum said. Please don't let Carrie be right..."

Carrie stood leaning against the brick wall, watching silently as Dora glided back and forth around the garden, reciting instructions to herself as she went.

"Block, left right, duck, right...left step, attack..."

"Stanislavian Dip!" Carrie shouted, and offered the Auror enthusiastic applause when she obediently dropped downwards, wand thrust towards the floor before flicking it neatly upwards, and to Carrie's surprise the witch promptly spun round to face the muggle, letting out a shout of laughter.

"I'm glad I've got you." Dora confessed somewhat breathlessly once she had sobered. "Even after everything...I'm glad you're here. I'd never make it to the arena without you."

Carrie supposed this was probably true. Since flooing back to Remus and Dora's house, Carrie had made the Auror lunch, stood over her until she had cleared the plate, lain out her duelling clothes upon the bed whilst Dora had showered, made a cup of tea, coaxed the quietly sobbing witch out of the bathroom with a box of tissues, and shouted countless warnings about the time whilst Dora had dressed and disappeared out into the garden for some last minute practice.

"Don't tire yourself out before you've even gotten there." Carrie said as the Auror shuffled back towards the house. "We've got to get a move on, anyway. If we don't you'll be late and Jasmine'll have my head on a stick!"

They spoke quite cheerily and jokingly about what was to come as they left the house and apparated to the arena, hurrying through the crowds with a few sniggers as Dora ducked her head in an attempt to avoid being recognised by the swarming crowds. And yet when they made it to the side door leading to the team locker rooms where they planned to bid one another farewell, Dora's humour instantly vanished.

"Bloody hell..." the British Duelling Champion muttered, reaching to lean heavily against the wall for a moment, eyes screwed shut as she drew in a deep breath.

"What is it?" Carrie asked, glancing around them somewhat nervously to see if anybody was watching, though the people queuing for the stands were too busy chatting excitedly amongst themselves.

Dora gave a somewhat jittery chuckle.
"I don't know, Carrie." she muttered, shaking her head. "I'm not sure I can do this..."

Carrie drew breath to remind her that it was never too late to back out, but found the words stuck in her throat.

Because Dora would never forgive herself, the muggle realised, if she backed out now...

"Of course you can do it!" she insisted instead, reaching to grasp hold of Dora's arm, giving her a firm shake. "You're the British Duelling Champion, Dora! You're...you're one of Moody's Minions! You've been an Auror longer than half the Albanian team put together and...and you've got something more worthwhile than a pot of gold to fight for! Now...now go on! Get in that arena and...and show that insufferable Albanian woman how to duel properly! Remus is listening! So don't screw it up!"

For a moment Dora stood motionlessly, eyes still closed, and then she sighed heavily, managing the smallest of smiles.

"When did you grow up and become me?" she wondered, shaking her head disbelievingly, and with that she reached to pull the muggle into a tight one-armed hug, only for a voice in the crowd to call her name at the top of their lungs.

"NYMPHADORA!"

"That bloody name..." Dora muttered as she and Carrie drew apart in time to see a crowd of Aurors and Auror cadets flooding through the entrance to the stands, one familiar face waving wildly at them.

"KICK LUGA'S ARSE!" Robert Wilde demanded enthusiastically, and Dora shot him an exasperated look, only for hundreds of heads to turn in her direction...

"It's her!"

"Look!"

"It's our Champion!"

"She's come!"

"Over there, look!"

Dora instantly winced, and Carrie reached to give her a firm push towards the side door.

"Go on! Go!" the muggle demanded as the excited calls grew even louder, and with that Dora turned and fled out of sight.

Failing to spot Teddy amongst the Auror cadets, Carrie instead caught sight of the unmistakable black and orange cloaks of those members of the Order of the Phoenix who had congregated low in the stands, and the muggle managed to push her way through the crowds until she was sat just behind them. From her chosen seat Carrie had a clear view of the arena below, it's set up more simple than at any time before it: two long benches were set against opposite walls at either end of the arena, whilst the middle was dominated by a large duelling platform with steps at either end. Each end of the arena had been elaborately decorated in the team colours of Albania and Great Britain respectively, each country's flag emblazoned across a back wall. It seemed that in no time at all the familiar figure of the commentator had stepped out onto the arena floor and his booming voice started the proceedings.
"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen! The National Duelling Association welcomes you to this, the most anticipated day of all, the Final of this year's National Duelling Championship!"

The crowd screamed and cheered with wild enthusiasm, yet as they stomped their feet and waved their flags and banners in the air, Carrie sat utterly still and silent in her seat.

"Without further ado! Please welcome the National Duelling Team of Albania!"

The British supporters booed enthusiastically as the names of the Albanian duellers were announced, but as the Albanians filed out into the arena the crowd's reaction grew utterly venomous as the commentator called:

"And finally please welcome their team captain and Albanian Duelling Champion! Valbona Luga!"

Carrie watched, her stomach twisting into knots as Valbona Luga stomped out into the arena, expression distinctly sour at her hostile reception. She came to stand centre of Albanian team as they lined up along one side of the arena, and as the dueller beside her raised a hand to wave to the small cluster of Albanian supporters opposite them, Luga reached to yank his arm back down to his side with a scowl.

"And now! Please welcome the National Duelling Team of Great Britain!"

As their names were read out the British Aurors strode into the arena, waving cheerfully at the crowd and smiling broadly as they lined up opposite their sullen opponents. Hale Grover seemed to pause in his waving to make adjustments to his hair, whilst beside him Carrie had the feeling that Jasmine Wickes had dyed her red hair a couple of shades brighter for the occasion.

"Finally please welcome the captain of the British team and British National Duelling Champion, Nymphadora Lupin!"

The crowd went ballistic, whooping and cheering for all they were worth...

For a long moment, Dora simply did not appear.

Carrie thought her heart might stop dead in her chest in panic...only at last for Dora to step out into the arena.

The British Champion shuffled forward, her gaze upon her shoes, only for Jasmine Wickes to leap backwards towards her, grabbing hold of her by the hand so that she could fling Dora's arm up into the air with a cheer, causing the crowd to let out a fresh scream of excitement.

Look up! Carrie silently pleaded, fidgeting anxiously in her seat. For goodness sake, look up!

Dora finally consented to look up at the cheering crowds, and to Carrie's relief the Deputy Head of Aurors offered her supporters an utterly beaming smile, thrusting her free hand up into the air too, before yanking her hand free from Jasmine so that she could give an exaggerated twirl to beam up at those sitting behind her, too. The British Aurors all laughed somewhat raucously and Burton Hayes reached to slap a hefty hand down onto the champion's shoulder.

Did she stumble?

Carrie blinked.

No. Of course not.

Carrie felt her confidence begin to slowly grow as, nervous entrance somewhat forgotten, she heard Dora call her team to attention with a sharp:

"Eyes front!"

The two teams stood, neatly lined up opposite one another, staring at each other somewhat steely.

"The Champions will now shake hands." the commentator announced.

Of course here at the WWN we have yet to hear a statement from St. Mungo's regarding the rumours, but it would appear that they may well be false! Now the two champions step forward to shake hands...

Harry was jolted back to reality, cursing the nighttime raid that had stolen most of his sleep the previous night, at the sound of the door being flung open and Teddy's voice exclaimed:

"Harry! Where's Imogen?!"

"Shh! She's right here!" Harry exclaimed, waving a vague hand in the direction of where Imogen lay curled up upon the bottom of Remus' bed. "What're you doing here?! Never mind, the champions are shaking hands, listen..."

...and that looks like an extremely firm handshake to me...

As she watched Luga attempt to crush Dora's hand and possibly break a finger or two in the process, Carrie very nearly sniggered at the smile that the British Champion offered the half-giant, even though she supposed it might very well have been a grimace.

"I can't believe you let her go!" Teddy muttered in disbelief as he and Harry clustered around the little radio, utterly transfixed by the broadcast and somewhat lost the the world, and Harry simply insisted:

"Be quiet, you'll ruin it..."

And now the two teams take their positions upon their benches, lined up in order of who will duel first, down to whoever will duel last. They'll no doubt have been discussing this for a very long time indeed...very tactical decision because of course to win they must be the last team with a dueller standing! Duel after duel...it requires stamina! Let's see how they arrange themselves...

Quite arrogantly, Carrie thought, Luga planted herself directly at the front of the Albanian line, seemingly unconcerned by the rest of her team squabbling over places behind her. Meanwhile, over on the British bench young Albert Diggory had taken the first seat, whilst Dora, much to Carrie's relief, had placed herself last.

And before Carrie knew it the judge had been introduced into the arena and he was summoning Luga and Albert up onto the duelling platform.

Suddenly, watching the young, fresh faced wizard who looked little old enough to be out of Hogwarts face up to the gigantic Luga who had knocked out or injured every opponent that Carrie had ever seen her face, Carrie felt suddenly sick.

The Blue Eyed Bertie chant was being bellowed from all around the arena as Diggory and Luga bowed to one another, and as they turned their backs and began to walk slowly apart Carrie felt suddenly tempted to clamp her hands over her ears and screw her eyes shut.

Instead she looked over towards the British bench, picking out Dora sat next to Jasmine at one end, her head bowed but her gaze peering up at the dreadful spectacle through her mousy fringe.

Carrie cast her eyes along the bench in an attempt to bolster her spirits, looking at each Auror in turn, all Dora's protectors. If the Albanians were to win, they'd have to get through the British team first; the wild firebrand that was Jasmine Wickes, oozing confidence and deadly aggressive, before her Xander Pikket, quiet and unassuming yet an utter wealth of perfect technique. After Pikket came Hale Grover whose defences the Daily Prophet claimed were impossible to breach, and then Burton Hayes who was eying the opposing team like a bulldog chewing on a wasp...

Carrie felt somewhat better.

Until just a few minutes into the first duel Luga sent Albert Diggory spiralling off the side of the platform to land with such force upon his back that he cracked his head with an audible thump and was instantly out stone cold.

As Luga let out a war-like shriek of triumph and Carrie's gaze darted back to see the British team's reaction, the commentator announced over the crowd's noisy disapproval:

"And so that duel goes to Albanian champion Valbona Luga, who defeats Britain's Albert Diggory, leaving Britain with five duellers to Albania's six!"

The British duellers were all muttering darkly to one another, all except for Dora who was staring motionlessly at her shoes. As a team of mediwizards came sprinting out into the arena to deposit Albert Diggory on a stretcher, the commentator announced:

"Please welcome Britain's second dueller, Burton Hayes!"

Burton Hayes appeared up on the platform so suddenly that he might very well have apparated. Luga's lazy bow was met with Hayes' equally sloppy nod of the head and the two of them stomped away to take their positions. The crowd let out a shout of approval when, as soon as the duel had started, Hayes lurched forward and struck Luga in the shoulder with a hex, and for a second Carrie thought the Albanian might just drop her wand...

But within the blink of an eye Luga had retaliated and the two set about a furiously aggressive duel that went on for nearly five minutes when...

...and oh no! That's Hayes out of the final with a stunner directly to the chest! Is he conscious? We're not sure...he's twitching...no. No, that's Burton Hayes out cold, leaving Britain with four duellers left and Albania still sporting six!

Teddy was forced to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop himself from swearing in frustration, but beside him Harry failed not to let out a shout of fury...

Smash!

At the sound of shattering glass, both Teddy and Harry spun around towards the source of the noise, and Teddy felt as if he'd just taken a bludger to the chest to find Imogen poised at her grandfather's bedside, frozen in panic at the glass littering the floor at her feet.

At the sight of both Harry and Teddy staring at her with wide eyes, tears sprung to the little girl's eyes and she instantly dissolved into tears as Teddy hurried over to peer down at the steadily pooling colourless liquid upon the floor.

"What's that, Im?" Teddy asked as his daughter turned to throw herself at the bed, burying her face in her grandfather's side.

"Water, surely?" Harry murmured as Teddy made to stoop to examine the smashed glass, only to pause, gaze fixated upon the side of his father's head.

At the sight of crimson slowly seeping from the werewolf's ear, leaving an ugly stain upon the pillow, Teddy felt his mouth go dry as he raised a shaky hand to point at it.

"Harry..."

"I'll get someone!" Harry decided as soon as he had spotted the blood, and with that he turned and sprinted for the door just as over the radio Hale Grover's approach to the platform was announced.

"Imogen, look at me!" Teddy insisted, reaching to prise the girl away from the bed, turning her round to face him. "Look at me...tell...tell me. Tell Daddy what you were doing...I...I'm not...I'm not angry just...tell me..."

But Imogen simply screwed her eyes shut, shaking her head vigorously.

"Tell me, Imogen!" her father demanded, increasingly agitated as out in the corridor they heard Harry shouting for assistance at the top of his lungs. "Tell me what you...tell me what you've done to Grandad!"

And as the doors were flung open and a trio of healers came bolting into the room mere seconds later, forgotten in the background Hale Grover offered Valbona Luga a stiff bow.

Hale Grover's approach to the platform had, Carrie saw, been a somewhat delayed one. Britain's next dueller had turned back to mutter rapidly to Xander Pikket beside him, and as Burton Hayes' twitching form had been lifted carefully onto another stretcher, Grover had gone to crouch upon the floor just before Dora, reaching to grasp hold of her by the hands in order to get her attention.

Carrie had watched the British Champion reluctantly look up from her continuous inspection of her boots, and after a rapid word or two from Grover, Dora had glanced past him to where Luga stood upon the platform, sneering somewhat as her latest victim was carried away. Carrie had watched Dora give Grover's hands a firm shake, muttering something under her breath. The two British duellers had nodded to one another, and with that Grover stood up, offered his captain a mock-salute, before turning on his heel and striding purposefully towards the platform.

It seemed to Carrie that Hale Grover had no intention of attacking Valbona Luga.

For two, three, five, eight minutes the British dueller ducked, dodged and deflected the Albanian's attacks, not once making to retaliate. Luga's attacks became increasingly frustrated as she flung spell after spell at him, her face growing pink and furious as she drew back her wand with a sharp intake of breath and bellowed at the top of her lungs:

"FIGHT BACK, COWARD!"

And yet as she sent another hex streaking through the air towards him, Grover darted sideways to avoid it and refused to attack at all.

Was Luga...getting breathless?

No, surely not. It seemed...impossible, Carrie thought dully...

And yet if Luga wouldn't grow breathless, Hale Grover would not be hit...

The Albanian champion was growing visibly furious. Carrie wasn't sure whether this made her feel better or worse...

She promptly decided on worse when Grover overbalanced dodging one spell, only to stumble straight into the path of a second...

And as Hale Grover became the next British dueller to be flung backwards onto the floor, a slashing hex drawing a sickening burst of blood from his shoulder as he landed flat on his back, at St. Mungo's Teddy Lupin was attempting to ignore both the radio and the babbling cluster of healers around the hospital bed as they tried to stem his father's bleeding, in order to grasp his daughter firmly by the shoulders and demand one last desperate time:

"For the love of Merlin, Imogen! TELL ME!"

Positively trembling with tears, Imogen reached to clamp her hands over her eyes as she complained:

"I...I wished Grandad...I wished Grandad better, Daddy!"

"How? How did you wish him better?! Tell me, Imogen..."

The girl let out a gurgled sob, rocking anxiously back upon her heels.

"Grandad fell down, Daddy! Grandad fell down and it made Nana cry!"

Is there's any hope for Britain in this final? We're beginning to wonder...and here comes Xander Pikket!

"I went to bed and I...and I wished! I wished and wished, Daddy!"

Slight delay occurring here in the stadium as they mop up the blood from the floor...what's going through Pikket's mind right now, do you think? Such focus on his face...

"I said please don't let Grandad fall anymore! Pretty, pretty please!"

Merlin, look at the state of Grover, he'll feel that in the morning! And up comes Pikket, ready to take on the Albanian Champion! The two duellers bow to one another...

"I wanted Grandad never to fall, not ever again! I was desperate, Daddy!"

The duellers take their final positions...

"And...and then the drawer slid open, Daddy! And that's where I...f...found it!"

And there off! Nice dodge there by Xander Pikket!

"Medicine, Daddy! To make Grandad better!"

….sloppily deflected by Luga...

"I wished and wished and it came, Daddy! So I took the medicine and...and I...and I gave Grandad a little..."

Oh! Great hex there by Xander Pikket, that's one nasty gash Luga's sporting there, very nasty indeed! AND AGAIN! Xander Pikket of Great Britain gets a double strike on Albania's champion!

"I put it in his dinner. Like Mummy puts medicine in my juice because it tastes yucky."

Is Luga flagging? I'd say so, she's...oh! Merlin, what an end! Valbona Luga knocks out Xander Pikket with a snapping cursed to the leg! I'm sorry to say that leg looks broken to me! In several places I'd wager...what a terrible shame, after such a promising start!

"But it wasn't working, Daddy! Grandad wasn't getting better!"

Albania have yet to lose a single dueller, and it's left now to Jasmine Wickes and British Champion Nymphadora Lupin to face up to these dreadful odds! The question on all our lips: Will Luga go an entire championship without losing a single duel?! I daresay Jasmine Wickes'll have a thing or two to say about that! And here she comes!

"I tried to check his pulse. Like Uncle Timothy says they do on the television. But it didn't work so I gave him some more medicine in his drink..."

Yes, up comes Jasmine Wickes, one of just two of Great Britain's duellers remaining! Will she beat Valbona Luga and give us a fighting chance?! Wickes and Luga step forward to bow...

"But Grandad got worse, Daddy! The medicine wasn't working! Everybody would be so cross! So, so cross!"

And they're off! Come on Jasmine! You can do it! The crowd have gone wild and it's Jasmine Wickes of Great Britain versus the infamous Valbona Luga of Albania! Look at the speed!

"And now Grandad's in hospital, Daddy! I'm very, very scared..."

OUCH! That looked painful! Luga strikes Wickes in the knee, she stumbles and...look at that! One...two...three! Three strikes! Three strikes by Jasmine Wickes! What brilliant retaliation...

"But don't worry, Daddy! Don't worry! Grandad is going to be better soon!"

That's another stumble from Wickes, that knee will be causing her some discomfort I imagine...but she's struck Luga again! What a hit! The Albanian stumbles...

"I know it, Daddy! I know he'll be better! Because it's all gone now!"

Luga ducks and...NO!

"The medicine's all gone..."

Jasmine Wickes of Great Britain is sent flying by Luga, right across the arena! It's over! Luga wins again!

"Grandad's had it all! I gave him the last of it and now he'll be better!"

And it has come down to this, listeners! Our champion alone! It's Nymphadora Lupin of Great Britain...versus the Albanian National Duelling team! Well Merlin help her, I say!

Imogen's eyes grew wide in alarm as she whispered:

"Grandad will be better now, won't he Daddy?"

Teddy thought he might just faint.

Silence fell over the arena.

Carrie could have heard a pin drop.

Even the commentator seemed to hesitate. He cleared his throat loudly before finally calling:

"Um...that's Albania with six duellers remaining and...and Great Britain with...one."

Not a soul said a word.

Carrie's gaze darted towards the British bench, where a lone figure was sitting, gazing somewhat blankly as she watched her last teammate being carried out of the arena...

Valbona Luga let out a deep, mocking shout that echoed around the silent arena as she called:

"See?! I CRUSH YOU!"

Carrie felt sick to the stomach as she watched Dora reach to bury her face in her hands, bent over until her head was resting in her lap as Luga shouted taunt after taunt, only drowned out when the commentator called:

"Please welcome British Duelling Champion Nymphadora Lupin to the floor."

A scattering of uncertain claps sounded, but for the most part the crowd remained mute.

Dora didn't move.

There was a very long pause before the commentator called:

"Mrs Lupin...if you please...?"

Dora remained frozen still.

Carrie felt panic seizing her, making her tense from head to toe and yet the muggle forced herself up onto her feet, grasping the back of the chair in front of her to keep herself from wobbling as she drew in a deep breath and shouted at the top of her lungs:

"GO ON DORA! HE'S LISTENING!"

Around her the Order of the Phoenix broke out into shouts of encouragement until the entire arena joined in, a swell of noise that rose so loud that it might just have raised the roof...

And yet Dora seemingly did not hear a thing.

"COWARD!" Luga jeered, pointing an accusing finger. "YOU NOT FACE ME, NO?! I CRUSH YOU LIKE BUG!"

Minutes dragged on and yet Dora still failed to move, and Carrie had all but given up hope as she stared desperately down at the Auror...

At long last, Dora looked up.

The cheering instantly faded until the arena was once again silent.

And thousands of pairs of eyes watched with bated breath as the British Champion rose slowly to her feet.

She reached to draw her wand, and for a moment stood gazing around at the vast sea of people, until at last her eyes came to rest upon Valbona Luga.

Her approach to the raised platform was slow and rather stumbling and she paused again at the bottom of the steps, drawing in such a deep breath that Carrie swore she could hear it from the stands...

And so it was that Dora Lupin strode with sudden purpose up the steps and down the platform until she was stood just before Valbona Luga, forced to look upwards to meet the giant woman's gaze.

"Bow, please." the judge intoned grandly, and whilst Luga merely twitched her head, Dora sunk into a deep bow.

As the two champions turned to walk back down the platforms, Carrie wondered quite how Dora found the nerve to move, how she could sit there upon the bench, watching each of her teammates crash to the floor one after one, dropping like flies...

And yet as she turned to face her opponent, raising her wand, Dora Lupin did not so much as flinch...

"Begin!"

Both Aurors leapt into action, and Carrie found herself grasping fistfuls of hair in her hands as they flung spell after spell at one another, dodging and deflecting until quite suddenly there came a sudden intake of breath from the crowd...

Valbona Luga stumbled, Dora's hex having struck her upon the thigh, and she swipe her wand up to deflect Dora's second attack, only for it to hit her square in the chest, causing a sudden shout of approval from the crowd.

Luga promptly sent a barrage of hexes flying back towards Dora, who managed to deflect them one by one, and things seemed to Carrie to be going well...

Luga's latest curse caught Dora's wrist and the entire crowd shrieked in horror to see the British champion's wand instantly begin to slip from her grasp as the curse left the bones in her wrist to splinter...

Back in the hospital Dora's potential end to the Duelling Championship was being entirely ignored.

"Send for Healer Jones!" one of the healers bent over the bed demanded of the colleague standing beside her as Teddy and Harry looked on in sheer horror, Imogen hiding behind Teddy's legs. "His heart's about to stop..."

In the arena, her face contorting in pain, Dora's free hand suddenly whipped up to grasp hold of the wand just as she dropped her now injured arm to her side, and within the blink of an eye she had taken fresh aim at Luga with her wand in her left hand, sending a barrage of hexes flying across the arena, and the duel resumed with renewed ferocity, Luga taking a hex to the leg as she let out a shout of frustration.

Backing off and narrowly avoiding stumbling into the plastic chair beside the bed, Teddy watched numbly as yet another healer came barging into the room, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and he demanded to know:

"Has it stopped?! We'll have to shock him..."

"Don't look, Sweetheart..." Teddy mumbled numbly, not daring to move though he knew he ought whisk Imogen out of the room entirely, and he watched, blood running cold in panic as a trio of healers ripped back the sheets reached to point their wands at his father's chest.

"On three! One...two...three!"

The crowd cried out as the hex struck Dora square in the chest and she stumbled backwards, teeth gritted in pain...

"Again!" the healer demanded as Teddy turned his back on the scene, scooping Imogen up into his arms. "One...two...three!"

The second spell struck Dora so hard that the witch was very nearly knocked backwards off her feet. She sent a feeble hex flying back at Luga, and though it struck the Albanian in the face, causing her nose to give a sudden gush of blood, Luga merely stumbled a little and took fresh definite aim, ready to finish her opponent off...

"One last time!" the healer announced fiercely, and Teddy screwed his eyes shut, pleading silently...

Come on, Dad...

"One! Two! THREE!"

Carrie watched numbly as the curse streaked through the air, and Dora seemed too overwhelmed to make any effort to deflect it. She stood, motionless as it flew forward, aiming directly for her...

The spell struck with such force that Carrie felt her own stomach tense, and yet...

Dora's face contorted, teeth gritted stubbornly as she remained stock still...

And the crowd let out a gasp of surprise when quite suddenly the metamorphmagus seemed to bloat, her robes straining against a sudden spurt of mass and just as she had back in the garden when Robert had punched her, Dora remained upon her feet, the spell's effects dampened by the sudden thick layer of fat...

Luga, meanwhile, had already thrown back her head to let out a victorious shout, and as the blubber disintegrated into nothing a mere moment after it had appeared, Dora watched Luga reach to thrust her hands up into the air...

"STUPEFY!" Dora declared, thrusting her wand forward to point directly at the Albanian's chest, and Luga's gaze had barely dropped back to look at her in utter shock when the spell struck her with such force that she was sent flying straight off the platform, landing down by the Albanian bench with an enormous thud!

"Got him!" the healer exclaimed, making Teddy's own heart jump in his chest as the clusters of healers all breathed a sigh of relief. "Merlin, that was a close one..."

Dropping Imogen down into the plastic chair, Teddy hurriedly turned to exclaim:

"He's been poisoned! You have to do something...my...somebody's...somebody's poisoned him! There! On...on the floor!"

Most of the healers turned to gawp at him in astonishment, and yet Healer Jones tutted disapprovingly and demanded:

"Well?! Don't just stand there! Lionel! Fetch a swab so we can identify this substance at once!" Then, to Teddy's shock, the wizard inquired: "Is that a radio? Turn it up, will you? I want to hear how our duellers are doing!"

...and she's done it! She's actually done it! Nymphadora Lupin of Great Britain defeats Valbona Luga of Albania! The crowd have gone wild! I've never heard such noise! The undefeated Luga is taken down by our very own Deputy Head of Aurors! Brave, Mrs. Lupin!

And as Teddy felt a sudden rush of pride at such news, he jumped at the sound of a hoarse voice behind him mumbled:

"She's done it...?"

Teddy rushed over to his father's bedside, eyes wide as he exclaimed:

"Dad!"

"Has she done it?"

"Yes, Dad! She's done it! She's beaten Luga!"

Remus frowned deeply, and yet a small smile tugged at his lips.

"Of course she has." he murmured. "Now go and fetch her...bring her back here..."

"She's still got the others to duel, Dad..." Teddy pointed out as the radio announced the second Albanian dueller's ascent to the platform.

"I don't care." Remus mumbled, apparently already drifting back to sleep. "That's quite enough idiocy for one day, thank you very much..."

It took twice as many mediwizards than usual to drag Valbona Luga out of the arena, no stretcher apparently being big enough to carry her, and Carrie felt somewhat smug to watch them struggle to move her, her head lolling lifelessly from side to side as she was slowly moved towards the exit.

Dora's bow to her new opponent was so clumsy that Carrie worried she might very well over balance and fall over, and as she eyed the bench of Albanian duellers still waiting to duel, Carrie couldn't help but feel that Great Britain's victory seemed highly unlikely to say the least.

The British champion disarmed two more opponents before the competition was over.

It ended in a distinctly unconventional manner.

"Bow, please." the judge requested as Dora's fourth opponent came to a halt before her.

Carrie watched the Albanian wizard offer a short bow, and Dora leant forward to do the same...

And with that, the witch promptly passed out, flopping forward into her opponent's distinctly startled arms.

Carrie's heart sank as the Albanian man flung his arms around the British Champion in an attempt to keep her upright...

And it looks like it's all over, I'm sorry to say! The winners, Albania with three duellers standing, making this year's National Duelling Champion Valbona Luga of Albania...

Teddy sunk further down into his chair with a heavy sigh of disappointment.

"That bloody woman..." Harry muttered irritably, slamming a fist down upon the sideboard, making Imogen jump again. "Still...she won't think it's that much of a victory, will she? Tonks did beat her!"

Dora was bundled into a hospital bed at Remus' side a mere hour later with Carrie in tow, and as both patients slept fitfully Healer Jones reappeared with news that made Dora's defeat seem instantly insignificant.

"We've identified the poison." he announced, casting one somewhat approving glance sideways at the new addition to his care as Dora shifted in her sleep. "I must say he's lucky to be alive..."

"Is he...is he going to be alright?" Teddy asked, feeling somewhat childish at quite how he sounded, and the healer frowned deeply and told him:

"It's difficult to tell at this stage. He can recover from the poisoning, there's no doubt about that. What will be left, of course, will be his original condition...it is difficult to tell how well he is in that regard whilst he still has the poison in his system..."

"So...so when we were told it's terminal...it...it might...he might..."

"He might very well have fought off the initial infection on his own, yes. But as I say, we can't know that until the poison is gone."

"How long...?"

As he reached to extract a few droplets of one potion or another from a glass vial, leaning to drip them into Remus' mouth, Healer Jones suggested:

"I should expect we'll know within half an hour. Fast working stuff, this antidote..."

And so the wait began.

Carrie found it utterly agonising.

Dora awoke some twenty minutes in, blinking heavily and groggy.

"Where am I?" she mumbled uncertainly as she stared up at the tiled ceiling, and Harry hurried over to inform her:

"You're in St. Mungo's, Tonks. You did us proud."

"Where's Remus?"

"Right here, look..."

The Auror slowly turned her head to gaze at the sleeping werewolf beside her, and she let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh good...was he listening?"

"Of course he was. He thinks you're an idiot."

Dora managed a stiff chuckle, reaching a distinctly uncoordinated hand across to brush her fingertips against her husband's arm.

"I think we might owe Carrie an apology, Mum." Teddy said as Imogen rushed round to launch herself onto Dora's bed, making everybody in the room wince a little.

"Do we?" Dora wondered, flinging clumsy arms around the little girl who promptly collapsed atop her, hugging her fiercely.

"Yes..." Teddy admitted, casting a somewhat abashed look at his wife as he reached to slip an arm around her shoulders. "Immy...well she's been rather busy, these past few weeks."

"Have you, Sweetheart?" Dora asked the girl, and Imogen reached to clamp her hands over her face.

"It's alright, Im. Nana's not going to be angry." Teddy said as Carrie's head came to rest against his shoulder. "You see the thing is, Mum, Imogen's been very busy...trying to help Grandad get better...with medicine, just like Carrie said."

There was a very long silence as Dora looked from Imogen to Remus, then back to Imogen again.

"You're...not serious..." she mumbled as Imogen squirmed in her arms, and to her surprise Carrie too turned to look at Teddy with wide eyes as if she didn't quite believe it either.

"The cabinet in her room. It's a safe place to keep poisons, Mum. I got Archibald Fisher to take a look at it..."

"No..."

"Yes, Mum."

There was a long pause as Dora stared at Carrie for a long moment, before she promptly buried her face in Imogen's hair and murmured:

"Merlin, Carrie...I..." she began mutter in despair, hugging the child firmly, only for the doors to be pushed open, making her look up again.

Healer Jones' appearance in the room made everybody go suddenly quiet.

The man strode purposefully over to Remus' bedside, brandishing a clipboard and quill, and proceeded to prod, poke and scrutinise the werewolf for several long minutes, muttering to himself and scribbling notes, his expression utterly unreadable.

Carrie reached to grasp hold of Teddy by the hand, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest as yet more notes were scrawled upon a sheet of parchment and Healer Jones said:

"Hmm."

Carrie's heart stopped dead in her chest.

Healer Jones turned to eye Dora and Imogen for a long moment before at last beginning:

"Mrs. Lupin...?"

"Y...yes?" Dora managed, eyes rather wide, and Carrie suddenly felt the urge to drop to her knees because standing up was making her wobbly...

"I'm Healer Jones, Mrs. Lupin. Junior."

"Hestia's...cousin."

"That's right, Mrs. Lupin. Your husband has been poisoned."

"Y...yes...s...so my son tells me..."

"It would appear we've caught it in time, the antidote has done it's job perfectly."

"That's...wonderful..."

"He is of course still extremely unwell..."

"Yes..."

"Lycanthropic Cerebral Moriosis, I see here."

"Y...yes. How...how's that? T...terminal, Healer Walsh told me this morning..."

"Indeed I expect it looked that way, what with the poison doing it's work."

There was a long, hopeful pause as Healer Jones squinted down at his notes one last time before straightening his robes in a distinctly business-like fashion.

"Mrs. Lupin," he announced at long last as Carrie gritted her teeth in anticipation of what would come next. "It is my professional opinion that, having removed the poison from your husband's system, we can now see that the Lycanthropic Cerebral Moriosis is in actual fact...in decline."

Dora's mouth dropped open ever so slightly, shifting a little to sit more upright.

"In...in decline, you say?" she breathed, as if she didn't quite believe him.

"That's right." Healer Jones said. And with that he smiled.

"He's going to live? He's going to be alright?"

"I'm very confident, Mrs. Lupin."

Again there was a long pause as everybody in the room attempted to soak up the sudden elation of what had just been said, and Dora drew in a deep breath to speak, her face instantly lighting up...

The door burst open, causing Imogen to let out a small shriek, and Carrie turned in surprise to see an enormous figure looming in the doorway.

Flanked by a couple of news reporters clutching notepads and quills, National Duelling Champion Valbona Luga, her head swathed in bandages, stomped into the room, her face like thunder.

"You!" she exclaimed, thrusting a finger in Dora's direction. "I look all over hospital for you..."

"Ms. Luga..." Dora began rather uncertainly as the Albanian woman stomped over to stand at the bottom of her bed, the reporters scuttling after her, scribbling notes. "National Duelling Champion! Congratulations..."

"You beat me!" Luga accused, reaching to grasp hold of the end of the bed until her enormous knuckles grew white.

As Imogen instantly cowered, burying her face in her grandmother's side, Dora smiled pleasantly.

"Well I did say I would, I suppose..."
"I TAKE OUT YOUR ENTIRE TEAM BEFORE YOU!" Luga snapped furiously. "IT WAS NOT A FAIR CONTEST!"

"I don't see what was unfair about it." Dora confessed, smiling up at the half-giant amicably. "After all it was Albania versus Britain, not you versus me. And Albania won, so you ought be very proud..."

"I WANT REMATCH!" Luga demanded, giving her foot a furious stamp that seemed to make the entire room shake. "No Albania! No Britain! Just you and me! I show you! I BEAT YOU!"

At such an idea, the reporters' quill went utterly wild and one scuttled forward to half shove her face in front of Dora as she exclaimed:

"Mrs. Lupin! Misty Amville! Daily Prophet! Tell us, what've you got to say to that? How do you feel?! A challenge from the National Duelling Champion!"

The reporters waited with bated breath for a response as Luga glowered down at the witch in the bed...

And Dora Lupin paused to yawn widely, gaze darting over to her husband still asleep in the bed beside her.

"Well, Miss Amville..." the British Champion admitted, causing the reporter to lean eagerly forward, quill poised ready over her notepad...

"Quite frankly, I couldn't give a toss!"

Finish.