Chương 27: Duel

I caught Lockhart alone after class, still basking in the afterglow of hearing himself speak. I approached with the innocent, wide-eyed look of a first-year eager to learn from their hero.

"Professor Lockhart?" I pitched my voice softer, almost reverent. He perked up instantly. Of course he did.

"Ah! Miss Parish! No—Lyra, wasn't it? Knew it the moment I saw you." He smiled that blinding, self-satisfied toothy grin.

"What can I do for Ravenclaw's brightest star?" I didn't roll my eyes. I deserved an award for not rolling my eyes. I doubted he knew my position in the year as a whole, which meant he was basing that observation entirely on my ability to regurgitate his works, and my writing skills being far beyond other eleven year olds.

"I wanted to thank you for class today." A harmless lie. Today's class was him reenacting the time 'he' banished the Bandon Banshee. Of course, he didn't use any spellwork; to 'not endanger' his students. Lockhart sparkled.

"Always a delight to share my considerable knowledge and experience with such appreciative young minds!"

"Your commitment to teaching and the care you show to each of us is truly inspiring, Professor."

"It's a matter of course. I would do anything to help my students prosper." This really was just too easy.

"OH! In that case… there actually was something big I thought you may be able to help me with."

"Er, yes. Though I always say, it's best for one to understand things at their own pace. Really— push themselves through self-study and discipline to understand their strengths and work around their shortcomings. Nothing beats personal experience and guidance from one of my books."

"Exactly Professor! To that end, I wanted to check out a couple of books from the library I thought might help in understanding what you said in Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms." I quickly grabbed my filled-out permission slip and showed it to him.

"Gadding with Ghouls! Perhaps my very favorite book. You liked it?" he said, returning to his fully relaxed posture as he realized he wouldn't actually have to bullshit his way through acting intelligent.

"Oh yes! I suspect I won't be the only one to request one of these books either. Your work is genuinely foundational, Professor."

"Well~ I am me, after all." Lockhart said modestly, taking my slip and signing with a flourish. I accepted the note back and provided a parting compliment on his handwriting skills. They actually were impressive. Like a high-tech laser, carving out complicated swooping designs in mere fractions of a second. The restriction about needing to name the books I wanted from the restricted section was surprisingly effective at limiting my ability to check them out.

Since I already had the Occlumency books, my slip requested Most Potent Potions and Enhancing the Body Through Potions. These books contained the recipes for the Polyjuice Potion and the treatment that could make you immune to basilisk venom respectively. I'd copy down everything useful as quickly as possible and return both before Halloween so that Hermione could use the trick I just used to get the recipe from Most Potent Potions like she had in canon.

I noted Cassian Vale, the Slytherin, sitting in a recessed bay window at a hallway intersection, and continued past him. Only to slow to a stop after a few more steps as Gillian Yarrow stepped out in front of me. Nicholas Fawley, the first-year Slytherin 'King' walked out behind him. I was suddenly very aware that I was a girl. Surrounded by three unfriendly boys. Each about a head taller than me. Hairs began to rise on my arms and the back of my neck.

Thoughts of my to-do list faded as I furiously switched gears to understand the situation and find a way out of it. They were pre-teens, and that kept me from truly panicking. My wand was in my sleeve holster; the pocket Ms Parish had added. I preferred to keep it there since I could feel the weight of it and didn't need to worry about sitting on it. But, as nice as it was, it made the wand more difficult to draw out than a standard hip pocket. Not that a wand would make much of a difference if things went bad.

My best spell could only levitate a hat at most. My dagger was still in my trunk. I kept my face neutral as I observed my assailants. Revealing my trepidation without a plan to use that reaction was a bad idea. Bullies usually only got worse if they noticed a weakness. Vale, the only one behind me, was Ella's follower and was still sitting down. That could change very quickly. I didn't like my chances of out-running them in this body.

Fawley was smirking and leaning against the wall, indicating that even though he was almost certainly the mastermind here, he would be staying out of things. That left Yarrow. He took a power stance in front of me—legs wide and stable—arms crossed over his chest.

"Where do you think you're going, Parish?" he said. Well, at least he gave me time to think things through a bit. Reveling, gloating, and other kinds of monologuing really was dumbass behavior. Much better to just 'John Wick' your victim. Talking was good though. Few people were ruthless enough to go straight from mid-conversation to physical violence. I raised a casual eyebrow.

"Professor Flitwick wanted to see me. I'm headed to the staff room." Give minimal information and don't let people know you're entirely alone. Not hard rules, but when ambushed like this, it was better to go with known tactics with high chances of success.

"Going to teachers again? Can't stick up for yourself, huh? I guess it's to be expected that someone like you needs constant help from proper pureblooded wizards." Anger began to replace my initial fear response. I hated racists. Elitists. Whatever. It wasn't even accurate. Flitwick was half-goblin.

"Quite rich, coming from the person who thought switching charms were spells for hitting people with sticks."

"I don't need to know things to know I'm better than you." If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

"You don't need 'to know things' to know things? Do you want to think that over a bit?" I said derisively.

"Don't bother trying to make me think, Parish. I know better than that," he said proudly. … What? That was the stupidest response I'd ever heard. I noticed Fawley's smirk growing wider. It clicked; I was using logic to argue with a complete idiot. A thousand and one sayings would advise against that. Fawley was the mastermind. He knew he was targeting a Ravenclaw and chose to have a thoughtless brute confront me instead of trying to match wits with me himself; like Ella and Harper had.

My threat estimation of him rose slightly. He had cunning.

"Trust me, Yarrow—no one is in danger of mistaking you for someone who thinks. On the contrary, it's impressive how confidently ignorant you are."

"Jokes on you, I don't even know what ignorant means!" I had to pause again at the sheer stupid pride he took in that statement. Even Fawley looked at Yarrow with a level of disbelief.

"I hope you look back one day and realize the full scope of just how embarrassing the things you say are." Yarrow puffed up a bit more with a grin. Either he somehow interpreted what I just said as a compliment, or Fawley had told him to lean into being stupid to throw me off. This was getting stupid. I was still on edge—this could still turn into something horrible—but if they weren't going to use violence then it was just a waste of time.

"If all you wanted was to demonstrate your intellectual ineptitude, could you move out of the way? I have a meeting to get to."

"Not so fast. I'm not going to let you walk away thinking you're better than the rest of us." He cracked his knuckles. It was more intimidating than it should've been considering our sizes. I reviewed what I knew of self-defense. Eyes, throat, nose, shins, and the area between the legs. He was still in a power stance after all. Strength didn't matter half as much as the appropriate application of force. Dial it back. Eyes, throat, and nose had potential to kill if I hit in just the wrong way.

But I could hit the side of the nose to break it instead of forcing the vomer back into the brain. Plucking out the eyes—instead of stabbing them—would be too time-consuming; not worth it. The throat was off-limits. That left three main targets.

"Then get on with it. Just because you're slow doesn't mean the rest of us are similarly limited."

"You're going to duel me, Parish." So, they wanted something formal? Not just beating me up in a hallway and leaving me? Better, but I'd read enough novels to know where this was going; a 'fair duel' was never fair. The person proposing it always believed they had the advantage.

"And what's in it for me? I already know I'm better than you. Even the Professors acknowledge it." He glanced back at Fawley for reassurance.

"I know you're poor. If you win—not that you will—I'll pay you five galleons."

"Deal." He grinned again.

"Tonight at midnight. In the Great Hall." So, the same setup Malfoy tried against Harry. Must be a common tactic. I almost smiled. I could play along and just not go. However, that wouldn't do anything to prevent this group from coming after me again. Not to mention, I wouldn't get paid. There needed to be some consequences on their end for this. I didn't want them walking away thinking it was acceptable behavior. A way to stop bullying when the teachers can't be relied on.

"Nope," I said, stepping a little closer to him.

"No? You just agreed. You can't go back on that now. That's not allowed."

"You challenged me. That means I get to choose the time and location. Don't you know how duels work?"

"Of course I know how duels work." He checked in on Fawley again, who nodded.

"Yeah. Okay. You can choose that, but it needs to be a place without others so we don't get in trouble." You mean, 'a place where we aren't supposed to be, so you can get me in trouble'.

"Good. Then I choose here, and now."

"Wha–" I kicked him—hard and fast—between the legs. I prioritized speed over strength, but it was still enough to double him over. From there, I swung the palmheel of my hand into the side of his nose. I felt something give beneath the blow. He fell to the ground whimpering, curled into a ball. I turned to face Fawley. He had jumped away from the wall at the sudden violence, but froze at my cold gaze. I took the opportunity to pull out my wand, and held it casually at my side.

His eyes locked onto it in undisguised fear.

"Seems like Yarrow lost. Are you his second, Nicholas Fawley?" He swallowed.

"Ahh, no. I'm not." Cowardly Snake. I turned my head behind me. I had been listening closely to be sure Vale wasn't running up to me. He was still sitting on the windowsill; wide-eyed and tense. At my attention, he began shaking his head. His shoulder-length brown hair—reminiscent of Snape's style—whipping back and forth frantically.

"I see. In that case, I appear to have won." Yarrow had relaxed slightly while I was intimidating the other two. He was still blubbering and clutching his face, but he wasn't curled in on himself anymore. I stepped down hard, directly onto my first target. Which elicited another startled scream from him, and continued down the corridor as if they hadn't stopped me in the first place.

"Five galleons," I said to Fawley as I passed.

"You can have him pay me tomorrow." I kept my ears open as I walked, but was carefully not looking back or increasing my speed. They didn't pursue me, or try to cast magic. It didn't take long for me to reach one of the shortcuts the twins had just shared. I ducked inside and took a seat on the cold stone floor to calm down. I was fairly confident I wouldn't get in trouble for what just happened. They had been the ones to ambush me and insist on a duel.

Any serious investigation would reveal their own complicity in the event and I could play up how it was three boys physically pressuring a much smaller girl; a girl who had recently been cursed by suspected Slytherins. Not that they would go to a teacher in the first place. The male ego. A girl beating up the biggest of three boys and intimidating the others would be extremely humiliating to admit. Then there was Fawley.

'Tattling' was viewed pretty negatively by most people. In Hogwarts, it was acceptable to provide answers to a teacher if they came across rule-breaking, but seeking one out was very costly, socially speaking. Fawley would lose all respect among the other Slytherins for the act. He'd be kicked from the top spot of the Slytherin hierarchy. Possibly even permanently. After what I had seen earlier, I could confidently say that he would recognize this and pressure the other two to stay silent.

The fact that they would probably be punished for 'fighting among themselves' when Yarrow was brought to the Hospital Wing for healing was icing on the cake. My breathing now under control, I stood and continued my walk. I intentionally shifted my thinking about the confrontation. Trying to view it from different angles. To learn from the experience instead of just moving past it. Things could have gone very poorly. If I wanted to walk around alone, I needed to be more cognizant of potential ambushes and dangers.

My wand wasn't useful as a weapon yet, but the difficulty I had in getting to it would need to be addressed. I still preferred the sleeve, but maybe I could move my wand to my hip holster when walking around alone or otherwise anticipating danger? What else could I do? Could I get my hands on pepper spray? I shook myself. Items were useful, and weapons were force-multipliers, but there were a few practical concerns with relying too heavily on them.

Flitwick had already pointed out how specific-use items could easily identify me as a culprit. Which meant I would need to hide something like pepper spray and discard it afterwards if I wanted to avoid it being traced back to me. Also, I wasn't a video game character. I couldn't pause and sift through my bag for everything I needed. If I had pepper spray—and kept it hidden—I would've needed to dig around in my bag for it. Even Yarrow wasn't dumb enough to ignore something like that.

Wands were just as dangerous and far more versatile. Better yet, they were legal everywhere in the magical world and difficult to trace. So the answer was to get better at magic and be more attentive to my surroundings. I put aside my contemplation as I entered the library. I had more important things to focus on than the Slytherins.

Madam Pince handed over the two restricted books, but only after giving me a lecture over the book being called ' Moste Potente' Potions, not 'Most Potent' and threatening not to hand it over because I spelled the title like a sensible person. Once free from her, I looked around the library for a long-term study area. I had around a month and a half until the Chamber opened and I'd be spending most of that here.

The library was large—the biggest room in the castle, and eclectically structured—so there were plenty of semi-private spaces. Madam Pince's desk was right outside to the entrance to the restricted section so that area was out. Eventually I settled into the Divination section. It was close to the primary subject of my research project, far from Pince, and—as an elective—wasn't visited as often. I took a breath and looked at the shelves. I had a baseline for magic now. I was succeeding academically.

The castle was growing more comfortable and understandable by the day. I was even making some progress on befriending others despite a few setbacks. Once I finished copying down everything useful from the potion books, it would be time to really dive deep into Fate magic and prophecies. I needed to figure out how reliable my 'visions' were, and how best to approach Dumbledore. The knowledge I had could save lives. I just needed to use it correctly. It was time to study.