Year 2 Part 2

  … …

  “This place is wicked!”

  The comment came from Angus MacLean as he moved with me and the others through the outer edges of Hogsmeade. It was Saturday morning of our first week back at Hogwarts, and as Second Years, we were finally allowed beyond the boundaries of the castle. As with most of the rest of our year, Bradley, I, and others had decided to head to the only magical town in the British Isles to see what it was like.

  The buildings were, interestingly, similar to those I remembered from other sights and reports about the place. The buildings were spread out in rows, though many leaned at odd angles or had towers rising from them at seemingly impossible angles. The walls of the buildings had various aesthetics, with stones seemingly fitting at random to form the walls. The windows of each varied in size from ones that looked barely bigger than my head to others that appeared wide enough to ride a Thestral through.

  The place was buzzing, with voices calling out, selling anything and everything under the sun. Or at least everything legal that might appeal to students at the nearby school. I was sure that, like with Diagon Alley in London and Horizon Alley in Edinburgh, there would be a small area that dealt in the more, shall we say, restricted trades, but I was in no rush to discover that place today.

  “It is certainly different from what I expected.” The reply came from Godwine Suthsax as he observed the outer buildings of the town just as I was doing. “The ramshackle nature of the buildings and their random positioning might well make moving around this town difficult until we gain our bearings.”

  “It’s a good thing we know a few charms to help with that,” countered Weyland Brinsop as he pulled out his wand. A silent incantation later, a small light lifted from the tip of his wand and headed into the bustling town.

  The charm was likely nothing more than a simple ‘Point Me’ spell, but the little display of silent casting was interesting. A clear sign from Brinsop that he had improved himself over the summer and a subtle warning that he intended to challenge for one of the top five places in our year. That was hardly surprising, as I expected everyone to do so, and I already had one challenge for the wand duelling club for next Wednesday from Damien Blackwood.

  I didn’t expect to have any issues winning the duel, but as Damien was the tenth-rated wizard in Slytherin, he had the right to challenge me. The only interesting thing was that he’d chosen to do so in the duelling club and not within the confines of our house. Beyond the attempt to take my place at the top of our year within Slytherin, I felt there was more at play with the challenge; however, I had yet to determine what that was. Perhaps after I had defeated him, I could persuade him to reveal his reasoning for the challenge, and if he proved a competent duellist, work to further gain his loyalty and trust.

  So far, of the five of us that made up the top boys in our year and house, none of us had moved to step away and attempt to develop a powerbase in the year. Given it was only the first week of Second Year, that was hardly a surprise, but I knew that would soon change. Three of us – Godwine, Lasadh Astra, and I – had come to a relatively peaceful agreement of shared influence. Francis Bickerstaffe had accepted the situation, mainly, I suspected, because we were three to his one, but I knew he would make moves this year to undermine the current setup in the hopes of placing himself at the top of the pyramid in Slytherin. At least for our year.

  The same would be true of many others in our house, including Lowell Selwyn, Stephan Nott, and Amycus Carrow. However, based on grades, the only threats to my assuming control of the year lay in those who stood in the top five with me. Things would change as the year progressed and we were challenged to duels by others, but for now, I was focusing my energies on those closest to me in the rankings and working to gain their friendship. If they were to follow me in the coming decades, then it was better they did so out of respect and friendship than out of fear of me or my enemies.

  “And what shop is your spell going to guide us to?” I asked Weyland as he took a few steps to follow the charm he’d just cast.

  The boy looked back at me, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth. “Honeydukes, of course.”

  I chuckled at the reply, as did a few others in the group of ten, and then moved to follow. I had little interest in buying sweets from that shop or most things that might be in Hogsmeade. The odds were good that everything here cost more than in Diagon Alley or elsewhere, as they had a locked customer base with the students, but perhaps I might find something of interest that I wouldn’t otherwise find in the larger and more bustling shopping locations elsewhere in the Isles.

  “I wish to head to Spintwitches Sporting Needs. If I am to win my spot on the Quidditch team, I need to purchase new clothing.”

  “Oh, give it a rest, Randel. We all know you only care about Quidditch. Probably because that’s all you’re good at.” I chuckled at the comeback from Benedict Fletcher in response to Randel Melton’s remark.

  The latter was perhaps the biggest fan of Quidditch in our year – at least within Slytherin – and planned to make a career out of playing professionally. He was good on a broom, I’d give him that, and certainly a better flyer than me, but having seen the teams play last year, I had my doubts about whether he’d make the team. Even if he did make a team, it would likely only be as a reserve. The coordination and control I’d seen last year from the junior Slytherin teams had been impressive, with them finishing second and fourth. Given the failure of the senior teams, with neither finishing above fifth out of eight teams, that bodes well for the future.

  “And yet I ranked in the top twenty in our year,” Randel countered, “above you.”

  “And all of you finished below me.” The new voice was one I knew well, and I didn’t even have to turn to face Vesta to know she was coming closer. “Merlin, outside of MacLeod, all of you finished below Adilene and Enya,” the daughter of House Malfoy added as she came closer, sliding up alongside me as she had been doing often during our first week back at Hogwarts.

  “That will change soon enough, Malfoy,” Lowell Selwyn countered. “Once I beat you in our duel, I’ll take your place at the top of our house.”

  Vesta caught my eye for a second, and a flicker of an amused smirk came over her face. It was gone as she turned to face Lowell. “The chances of you defeating me with a wand are about as good as you finding someone who willingly wants to marry you.” I snorted, entirely caught out by the risqué comment even as she continued. “Or at least without them being forced to put up with you.”

  I didn’t need to see Lowell’s face to know he was furious. The retort from Vesta was brutal; far more so than was perhaps needed. However, from everything I’d seen from her in First Year and this first week of Second Year, a vicious verbal put-down was a common feature for her. Her tongue was razor-sharp, and she wasn’t scared to use it. At least against those she considered beneath her or unworthy of her time.

  “Every girl would want to marry me! I’ll be the greatest wizard since Grindelwald!” Lowell snapped back, his emotions oddly slipping through for someone who should have decent Occlumens training. At his words, I coughed to cover my amusement; an action that didn’t go unnoticed. The girls with Vesta all giggled, making clear their thoughts on Lowell’s derangement.

  “Your mummy is just telling you that to keep you happy,” Vesta replied before turning away from Lowell as if to consider the moment over. “However, this isn’t the place for such demonstrations. Have you boys decided where to head first?”

  “Brinsop wants to head to Honeydukes,” Godwine supplied, his face calm as if the little interplay that had just happened didn’t bother him, or perhaps had flown over his head.

  “Excellent idea,” Adilene Pontius said with a smile, shifting closer to Godwine, “and afterwards we could head to Hogsmeade Haven. My sister tells me they have the best ice cream and cakes outside of Fortescue's.”

  As several of the girls shared looks with each other, I realised that we’d been played. They had no intention of purchasing anything and were looking for us to buy things for them. I wasn’t sure if the other boys were aware of this, but as we moved off, following the light Weyland had cast to guide him to Honeydukes, I became almost certain that the ladies were laying down their markers for potential betrothals.

  While most glanced my way, a little spark in their eyes, only Vesta was ever at my side. I had no idea how the ladies defined order and structure in their dorms, nor frankly did I want to know. Yet, it was clear that she had already assumed the dominant position among them, and her focus had turned to me. As if trying to judge if I was worthy of her time.

  I had little interest in such matters currently, not least as my mind – or at least part of it – retained memories of being an adult with a daughter around the age of Vesta and the others when I’d died. However, I knew that if I ignored her attention and continued to stonewall every owl suggesting a meeting to discuss possible betrothals, I would find myself in the odd place of having no lady of acceptable standing to help me lead my Clan into the future.

  With a sigh, I shifted my arm, letting Vesta place her hand on my forearm. The slightest movement of her lips made clear she was pleased with my apparent acceptance of her presence, and even possible submission to her intentions; however, that was all she did.

  “I hope there’s a good bookshop in Hogsmeade,” I said, ignoring Vesta’s reaction. “While the Great Library is useful, the books there are far too focused on what the Headmaster wants us to know.”

  “Hardly a surprise,” Aline Munro remarked from where she was walking near Lasadh, the boy not having offered an arm as I had to Vesta, or as Godwine had to Adeline. “He and the Ministry wish to teach us what they wish us to know, and in the manner they believe acceptable.” She smirked as I caught her eye. “Thankfully, those of us from standing know that there’s more than one side to every story.”

  I gave a single nod in agreement. Aline’s father was head of Clan Munro, and while not an ally of Clan MacLeod, his ideals aligned closer to mine than Dumbledore’s. Chief Calum was someone, along with most of the Highland Clans, I hoped would support me once I was ready and able to start explaining my goals to others outside of Hogwarts. However, those days were far into the future, not least as I’d yet to develop the powerbase I wished to create within my year and house at Hogwarts. That said, given the group that I was currently moving in, and the fact I already held a lead position within it, perhaps it would be easier than I’d expected – but still more difficult than I’d wish – to form that core group.

  … …

  … …

  Stepping into the Great Library on Sunday afternoon, I saw that the place was busy. Not as busy as it would be once the Fourth through Seventh Years arrived later today, but enough that finding a quiet spot would be difficult. Or at least it would be if I didn’t know how to cast the charm that muted all sounds more than a few metres from me.

  Normally, I’d not bother to stay in the Library because of how busy it often was. Yes, my fellow students were quiet – mainly because they feared the Head Librarian, Miss Pince – and I could easily silence my surroundings, but the constant movement that occurred in all but the darkest corners of this massive room irritated me. Said corners were almost always taken over by students in their Sixth and Seventh years, as they had more time for self-study while preparing for their NEWTs at the end of Seventh Year.

  If there was a book I wished to read in the Great Library, I would simply check it out and take it back to either my dorm or, if I wanted greater solitude, into my chest. I didn’t generally go in there to study, at least not during First Year, as while it was heavily protected as it was a Lord’s Chest, the chances that someone might try to attack it to get to me while I was in there, remained decent enough to warrant my caution. That said, with Amycus now gone from my room and those present more trustworthy – or as reliable as they could be without me achieving dominance over them and the rest of my year – I suspected I would begin to spend more time in the chest when seeking solitude for whatever reason.

  Honestly, there were a few books in the Great Library that I didn’t have back at Dunscaith and thus could access via one of the chambers inside my chest, or arrange to be purchased if I wished to keep said book in my collection. Of course, the upper two floors of the library were off-limits to anyone under Fourth Year, while the Restricted Section was denied without the approval of a Professor. Perhaps there was a way to sneak into that section, and I did intend to see if I could, but without knowing more about the protections cast over the entranceway, I was reluctant to attempt such a thing.

  “Mister MacLeod,” I turned my head at my name being mentioned and saw Irma Pince looking at me fondly, or more accurately, at Xeno, who was resting comfortably in my arms. “I must once again ask that your familiar remains clear of my books, or have you forgotten that again?”

  I smiled up at the old witch. “Of course not, Miss Pince. It’s just that Xenocrates enjoys your company so much that I cannot deny him the pleasure of it each time I enter your domain.”

  The older woman, one with a nose that everyone said looked like a vulture’s beak, smiled as her gaze shifted to my familiar. “Is that so?” As if he knew he was being talked about, Xeno lifted his head and looked up at the librarian. The woman smiled as his skull tilted to one side. “Very well then. While you are within my domain this afternoon, I shall watch over your familiar, though I remind you that I will not tolerate any disorderly behaviour, nor attempts to damage my books.”

  “Yes, Miss Pince,” I replied as I shifted my arms. Xeno looked at me for a moment, questioning whether he was free to go with the witch. A small smile from me was all the encouragement he needed before he leapt gracefully from my arms, landing on the top of a desk beside Miss Pince.

  My smile grew as she turned her attention to the raiju, and Xeno leaned into her touch, savouring someone else worshipping him. Perhaps it was odd, but he seemed to actively prefer women of any age showing him attention. Most of the time, that was just the girls around my age – or a little older in the case of Bellatrix and a few of her friends – but he seemed to know just how to scurry his way into the good graces of the female Professors and other members of staff. Something that, if I found myself in trouble with anyone one day, might be of use in avoiding punishment, or at least not being as harshly treated as I would otherwise.

  Leaving Xeno to charm the Librarian once again – and no doubt con her into giving him whatever treats she had available – I moved into the Great Library. As always, my gaze shifted upwards as I entered the central area of the library, looking not just at the three floors above the ground but the shifting mosaic that dominated the ceiling. It showed images of ancient figures moving around, casting spells of every colour and style one could imagine. Each time I came, the mosaic had changed, the figures different, and the magic cast altered. As if the Library itself was teasing me with the knowledge it contained and tempting me to delve into its depths to learn what secrets it held.

  In the central area, there were rows of desks. Each was designed for no more than two students to sit at, with a small rune upon them to isolate them from their surroundings. When the rune was active, as was the case on four of them currently, the people there were blurred out enough that one couldn’t be certain of what they were studying or who was inside. However, they weren’t perfect as the general shapes of those inside the spelled area could be seen, nor were they seemingly able to hide the occupants from the gaze of Miss Pince and her staff.

  There were stories told every year of students getting caught by Miss Pince and her staff while engaging in activities not usually associated with a library. I’d heard that a pair of Gryffindors – the rumours varied on their years – had been banned from the library last year for ‘actions unbecoming of students’ while some Ravenclaws had been barred for the summer term for ‘research unsuitable for a library’. Now, there was a chance that these rumours were fabrications, perhaps even stories made up by the library staff to ensure students didn’t try anything untoward here, but I suspected there was a kernel of truth to them. If anything was off-limits, then people would want to see why and push the boundaries. It was simple human nature to do so. However, while I wasn’t against breaking the rules of the Great Library, my focus would be on gaining entrance to the Restricted Section and not risky public carnal displays. Well, at least not for a good four or five more years, at any rate.

  My gaze shifted from the mosaic to the rows of books that extended outwards from the central area I was standing in, and I tried to see if those I’d agreed to meet here were somewhere on the ground floor. With the sheer number of books available – even if most were copies of the same books for entire rows – and the fact that beyond the rows were an almost uncountable number of alcoves for students to study in groups within, then finding the others was a nightmare. If Xeno were present, then locating them would’ve been easy, as he knew each of them and could seek them out quickly, at least when motivated. However, my familiar was with Miss Pince, meaning I would either have to wander and hope I located the group, or wait for them to realise I was here and come and collect me.

  “I hope I’m not late.” I turned at the voice and saw Severus Snape a few steps behind me. “I was … delayed by some of my yearmates feeling the need to once again explain the order of our house.”

  I bit back a snarky remark and the urge to ask who these students were. There was little I could do to stop those who were against halfbloods entering Slytherin, not when they had support that extended into the upper years of our house. Nor did I need to guess which students he was speaking of. About ten had entered the school last year whose families leaned into the blood purity ideals. Or at least their Chiefs and Lords had for at least the last few generations.

  Such Clans and Houses were ones I expected to throw their weight behind Voldemort – publicly or not – once he began espousing his message. Perhaps I could, through force of will while at Hogwarts, alter the opinions of my fellow Slytherins from such Clans and Houses enough that they might provide me with their wands for battle, but I wasn’t certain of it. Nor, with my status of being friendly with muggleborns already known and accepted, did I believe that I had the clout to begin imposing my ideals on the majority of my year, never mind the wider house.

  “No, you’re early. Or at least early enough that I’m unaware of where the others have gathered.”

  Severus offered me a small smile; something he rarely did with others outside of a certain someone. “Lily told me which corner they would be seeking to use for this study session, though I don’t know if they managed to get a table there.”

  “Then lead on.” As I spoke, I gestured with my arm for him to take point. Perhaps some would see the action and find it odd that I, as a Second Year, was letting a First Year lead me through the Library, but so be it. I had already made clear to a few, including some of my student tutors, that I was watching over Snape, that his mother came from House Prince, though she was expelled for marrying a muggle, and that he held an affinity for potions and the Dark Arts.

  I wasn’t sure if any would show interest in Snape, never mind offer to tutor him as I was, but I saw no harm in letting them know he might develop into something of worth. If any approached him, then he would be foolish to turn them down, but he would also learn that I was the one who guided attention towards him. Something that would only further help cement his opinion of me, and thus slowly gain his friendship and loyalty.

  We moved through the rows of books, several First Years watching us as we did so. None seemed uncomfortable with our presence, though I could tell that some found it odd that I was moving through the ground-floor rows. The books here were geared towards First Year classes, with the Second- and Third-Year subject matter located on the first floor. That didn’t mean that high years couldn’t gather on a floor aimed towards a lower year, just that it was uncommon. However, as Severus and I were both Slytherins, I suspected that anyone who gazed our way simply saw us as friends seeking somewhere to study together.

  “SEV!” The familiar voice of Lily Evans called out as we passed the second row of books that led away from the central area of the library. “Over here!” I scowled as, while her voice wasn’t that loud, and those at nearby tables would be using the runes on them to veil outside distractions, she could still get into trouble with one of the librarians if caught.

  Thankfully for her, none seemed to be around, and I followed Severus towards his friend and the other First Years she was gathered with. I slowed as I saw that there were two other Gryffindors with her, along with two extra Ravenclaws present with my cousin áine MacDougall and her cousin Assa O’Conor, while her sister Issa, who was a fellow Slytherin, had a fellow snake at her side. One that I recognised.

  Shona Diggle was a halfblood from a cadet branch of House Diggle, though I would admit I’d only learnt that from Vesta and the other girls who had, during breakfast over the last few days, informed us about who the new First Year girls were, including their blood status. Something we’d done for them about the new First Year boys.

  “I hope we’re not late,” I said as Severus and I neared the table, my mind already fearing what this little gathering would be like now that it included nine girls, to just Severus and me.

  “No, no,” áine said happily, before patting the bench beside her, “Sit down, Dom,” she added as I noted the gap she’d left was between herself and Lily.

  I did so while Severus slowed. I suspected he wanted to sit near Lily, but she had her fellow Gryffindors on her other side. Thankfully, Issa seemed to understand this and shifted so he could sit between her and Shona.

  “I hadn’t realised that you would be bringing others,” I remarked as I eased into my spot on the bench, ignoring the way Lily tensed as my hand brushed her arm. “Outside of Miss Diggle, I cannot say I know any of you.” Already a part of me was concerned that those I didn’t know, particularly those with Lily, were muggleborns. The last thing I needed was for it to reach elements of my house that I was consorting with more muggleborns, particularly First Year ones. I had some leeway in that áine was my cousin, and I held a distant relation to Assa and Issa, but the others could be problematic.

  “Hope it’s okay,” áine replied with a small smile. While she’d never espoused pureblood ideals, or at least the more stringent variety, she was still raised as a noble. The same was true of her twin cousins. “This is Tara Griffin and Annie Cowrie.”

  “Chief MacLeod,” Annie said, lowering her head. Clan Cowrie was one of the sept clans for Clan MacDougal, and while a halfblood Clan, one that still held to the old ways.

  Tara Griffin simply nodded, which was enough. House Griffin was an ancient House based somewhere in northern England – the exact location was hidden by magic – and while not a House I ever expected to back me as their current Lord was a proud member of the Progressive faction, they were still an important one.

  “Ladies,” I replied with a nod to each before turning my attention to the Gryffindors.

  “I’m Moira O’Sullivan,” one of the two – a girl with icy blue eyes and dirty blonde hair began before Lily could introduce them – said as she extended her hand across the table, “daughter of Chief Calum.” I took her hand and lightly kissed her offered knuckles. That seemed to please her even as the others watched, though none seemed confused by my action. “When I heard Lily was friends with the youngest ever Chief in Wizengamot history, I knew I had to come along to meet you. My father has spoken highly of your actions in claiming leadership of your Clan, and on behalf of him, I offer my condolences for what happened all those years ago.”

  “Thank you, and thank your father when next you write to him,” I replied as I let go of her hand. “However, as you well know, titles and positions matter little within the halls of Hogwarts.”

  Moira smiled in a way that I could only interpret as a childlike attempt to appear enticing. “I am aware. However, even within these halls, decorum must be observed and respect given where it is deserved.”

  Beside me, I felt Lily shift, though my focus remained on her friend. Or a potential friend, as I felt that Moira was here more for me than Lily. “Indeed.” I turned to the other Gryffindor. “And you are?”

  “Maggie Potter.” My eyes widened at the name. “I’m from a cadet branch of House Potter, and so I’m not related to James,” she added quickly, a small scowl slipping over her face at having to mention the heir to the heir of her House.

  “Ah. I have had the… pleasure of your cousin’s company on occasion.”

  “Prat.” The insult slipped from Lily so easily that I couldn’t help but wonder what he had done to anger her already. It hadn’t even been a week since we’d arrived at Hogwarts.

  “That is a good way to describe my cousin, though his heart is in the right place. Most of the time,” Maggie added with a smile that seemed to hint at more than just annoyance with James Potter.

  “And other times?”

  Maggie smirked. “Such words are perhaps best not used in public.” I chuckled and tipped my head to her, seeing no reason not to disagree.

  “So,” I said, letting my eyes wander over the table to make clear I was speaking to everyone, “how are you all settling in at Hogwarts?”

  I already knew that much of what they were going to say would either bore me or be so downright trivial that I’d find myself wishing I was back in the forest of Dunscaith surrounded by redcaps. However, beyond wanting to ensure Lily and Severus ended up allied with me and keeping my cousin closely aligned with my ideals, each of the other girls had some potential. Perhaps most critically, outside of Lily, none were muggleborns, which made it easier to keep interacting with them without causing issues with my yearmates. Save, perhaps, the fact that all bar Severus were girls. I’d just have to make sure that when any of them tried to bring a muggleborn into the group, I was aware and could prepare counters for anything some might say about it in Slytherin.

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  … …

  … …

  I suppressed a smile as I walked towards a certain section of the grounds inside the walls of Hogwarts. Today had been the second true day of the Second Year, and while having everyone from Fourth Year upwards back at the castle had taken away some of the quiet that existed – or as much as a place could be quiet with over a thousand eleven to thirteen-year-olds present – it was good to finally be back studying.

  Well, I said studying, but as with First Year, it was really just going to be reviewing. Every charm, jinx, hex, and incantation that we would learn this year, I had already mastered to the point that they could be cast silently. Some weren’t quite as powerful as they were when I whispered the words, but all were able to be cast without alerting an opponent to what I was intending.

  In Charms today, we had been taught the basic shield charm we would be using for duelling – both in the club and within Slytherin – and while I already knew the charm and could add some modifiers to it that were beyond what I needed for junior duelling, the fact that it was now taught meant duels could take place. I already had one lined up for tomorrow evening at the wand duelling club with Damien Blackwood. A challenge not just for position in the club, but for ranking in Slytherin. I didn’t know if the other houses used duelling in concert with grades to rank students in their houses, but I suspected they didn’t. Or at least that the rankings at the end of the year wouldn’t bring benefits for the following year, such as the prime dormitory I shared with four other boys at the entrance to the Second Year corridor in the Slytherin Chambers, or the private chambers offered to the duelling champions – be that wand or sword – in our house.

  The duel, and any that followed, was a matter for tomorrow, however. For tonight, my focus was on meeting up with one of my tutors. The only one, in fact, that no one else had even the slightest inkling of.

  As I neared the small grove of trees, my mind flashed back to when I’d first came to this spot last year, the mistakes I’d made in accessing the Shadow Realm – or the Fearann ????na Scáthanna to use its true name – and how I’d come closer than I’d have liked to potentially dying. In the end, my tutor, Aífe Mac Uidhir, had shown interest in me and decided to begin training me in not just using the Fearann ????na Scáthanna, but in how to manage and manipulate Shadow Magic.

  I’d never have her ease and grace with the branch of magic, which made perfect sense as I suspected usage of the Fearann ????na Scáthanna and the magic linked to it was her Clan’s family magic, much as fleshcarving was mine. However, I could become proficient at it, which would be a huge boon in the coming years. Hell, it already had been, as I’d been playing with the ability to slip into and out of the Fearann ????na Scáthanna at Dunscaith and could now move around my castle almost instantly, slipping to and from places almost as quickly as Kadic when he apparated. Critically, though, moving through the barrier between this world and the Fearann ????na Scáthanna made no sound, nor could it be easily sensed by others. At least not unless they could also use the realm or had a connection to me like…

  My train of thought ended suddenly. I dropped low as I pivoted, my wand out and the quick-fire spell ready to be flicked away as I felt something behind me. For a moment, my eyes narrowed as I sensed no one there. “Homenum Revelio.” A quick movement of my wand, along with the words, had the spell cast, though no one was detected by the spell.

  Frowning, I stayed still, trying to determine what I was sensing and who, if anyone, was there. There were other variants of the Revealing Charm; however, I felt none of them would be of any use. A Hogwarts house elf wouldn’t be trying to follow me, not without direct instructions from a member of staff, and I didn’t believe that I’d done anything to draw the attention of Dumbledore or his Professors, at least not enough for an elf to be assigned to monitor me.

  As for other magical creatures that could conceal themselves – through innate magic, something that had been cast, or an item able to hide them – none should be on the grounds of Hogwarts. If they were, the staff would be alerted and move to deal with the intruder.

  There was something else going on, something…

  I spun again as I sensed the shift in magic nearby, this time the quick-fire bolt shot from my wand. It raced towards a tree in the small grove, or more accurately, I realised, the shadow being cast on it. Even as the spell was deflected into the ground, I knew who was there, and a moment later, emerging from the shadow as she had been part of it, was my tutor, Aífe Mac Uidhir.

  “Not bad,” she said gently as she stepped towards me, her wand in her hand but not pointing at me. “You’re able to sense when I enter and exit the Fearann ????na Scáthanna and the direction, along with when I actively hide within a shadow in this realm. A little slow in your response, but overall, not bad.” She paused and looked at me, an amused grin on her face that brought a sparkle to her blue eyes. “Now, unless you’re challenging me to a duel, I suggest you lower your wand and follow me.”

  She turned, entirely unconcerned that my wand was still pointed at her, and moved towards the shadow that she’d just been hiding in. She’d not actively been inside the Fearann ????na Scáthanna, and had, I realised, been drawing them around herself to hide in plain sight. It was an ability that I’d yet to attempt or receive any training from her in doing, but one that I wanted to master. The ability to hide in a shadow and be able to hear and see everything going on around me without anyone being aware of my presence, and critically being immune to almost all detection methods, including the common Revealing Charm, was so innately broken that I already had several dozen ideas for how to use it. Both in the magical world and the muggle one, if I so choose.

  My wand lowered as she stepped into the shadow against the tree, doing so as if walking through a doorway. Which, to her, it was. I moved to follow, my eyes glancing around to ensure that we really were alone. I didn’t have the sensation I’d had last night after the first official gathering of the wand duelling club that someone was watching me, or at least trying to follow me, but one could never be too careful.

  As I stepped into the shadow, I felt the rippling waves of the magic of the Fearann ????na Scáthanna wash over me. Their presence, and the innate insanity of a realm that moved in fundamentally different and sometimes conflicting ways from the real world, still brought a moment of awe, though the concern at the transition was gone.

  Once inside the Fearann ????na Scáthanna, I turned, intuitively aware of where Aífe was. As I neared her, I felt the realm react to her presence and even in the blackness of the place, saw it shape a table with two chairs between us. A subtle movement of her head was all that she needed to do for me to understand her wishes, and I sat on the other side of the table.

  “First, I have to convey a message from my grandfather.” She reached into her robes, ones that now had gold trim marking her out as a Sixth Year, while the small, bronze badge over her chest marked her a prefect. Something she hadn’t been last year. As her hand withdrew, even within the darkness of the realm, I saw a letter in it, and as she passed it to me, I took it. “While he isn’t yet willing to meet, nor I suspect will that change for some time, he offers his thanks for allowing me to visit Dunscaith,” she explained as I slipped the letter, sealed with a sigil I’d never seen before but understood was the mark of Clan Mac Uidhir, into my robes. “There is likely more he has said, but I am not privy to that information.”

  I nodded, understanding that correspondence between Chiefs and Lords was often not fully explained to the messengers. Still, at least now I knew her relationship with her clan’s Chief. “If I have anything I wish to reply to, should I give the letter to you, or send it as I normally would with my owl?”

  “To me. Our home is warded to prevent anyone from finding it,” she explained with amusement, “even owl post or other messenger services. While that does make it... awkward for receiving mail of any kind, it is part of the wards of our home, and no Chief has ever chosen to lower that protection. Not since the time of the Roman invasion.”

  I nodded again, accepting her words, and given the history that I had been able to discover about her clan, I understood her caution. Clan Mac Uidhir had stood against the Roman legions – muggle and magical – in defence of the Emerald Isle. Much as the Clans of the Picts and Scots had done so in the highlands and islands of Scotland. Mac Uidhir had led the overall resistance from the Celtic Clans, and while the Romans had remained behind even after their empire was all but destroyed, a remnant still ruled Rome and the south of Italy to this day in the magical world, the Clans had eventually regained control of the Isles. Or more accurately, those Romans who had settled here, led by House Ollivander, had found common ground with the Celts.

  That approach, of resisting invaders and then finding common ground with them once they had settled in England and other parts of the Isles, had been used in each subsequent invasion of the west and south of the Isles. Over time, and with the coming of the Normans in 1066, which was when the Malfoys and other houses came to these shores, some houses in Wales and Ireland had adopted the Norman/European ideal of families being Houses. Clan Mac Uidhir had not, nor had most of those with roots dating back to the Celtic tribes.

  “Because of your progress under my tutelage, and as a reward for allowing me to visit Dunscaith, something I admit I look forward to doing again when we can arrange it without others becoming aware, my grandfather has instructed me to teach you a method of using the Fearann ????na Scáthanna for something other than travel and defence.”

  I managed to keep the surprise and delight from my face at her words, though even with my level of Occlumency, it was hard to do. I’d wondered about what Shadow Magic could do offensively, and even toyed with a few ideas. None had worked, or more accurately, not in the way I’d hoped, but I knew there had to be methods to use this rare branch of magic for something more than scouting and rapid transit. If I had been wrong, then so be it. Just the ease with which one could enter and move through Shadows was enough to make the branch something battle-changing if used properly, but my joy at realising my thoughts on the matter were correct was almost orgasmic. Or as close as I could come to such a thing, given my current age.

  “You hide it well, impressively so in fact, but I know the signs of someone once they find a breakthrough or have it revealed,” Aífe commented with a gentle, almost musical chuckle. “The Fearann ????na Scáthanna and the magic connected to it is capable of many things. Some wonderful and magnificent. Others are terrifying to the point of making some Dark Magic seem like spells for babes. Most of that I doubt you will ever learn, nor possibly will I. However, even the most basic of ways to use Shadows to attack can be… climactic.” She leaned forward, her smile shifting into one that some might call petrifying, but I found oddly appealing. “Tell me, which cuts better. A sword honed to perfection or one left to dull?”

  “The former, which is something anyone would know.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the edge of the blade is sharpened, meaning the thickness of it is decreased into as much of a narrow point as possible.” I blinked, my mind remembering concepts from my former life regarding some far-out-there ideas in science fiction even as I continued to explain the matter. “The fewer atoms or molecules at the edge of the blade, the greater the force exerted when it strikes against a target, and thus the easier it can cut.”

  “Exactly,” Aífe agreed, her smile only growing more intriguing. “Now, there are a few variances of the rule. Certain substances, both magical and not, can counter a fine edge based on the thickness of their molecule and the way they are aligned in the object, but in general, the finer an edge, the easier it can cut through anything.” She leaned back, crossing her legs as she did so. “Now consider this. How many molecules are there in a shadow?”

  “None,” I replied almost instantly, my mind already seeing what she was leading me toward. “Shadows have no mass and are made of nothing. A blade forged from them would thus be able to slice anything it struck.”

  “Not quite anything,” Aífe countered with a light chuckle. “Items imbued with the right charms, or magical shields with certain properties, can block the attack of a shadow blade or point. However, outside of those, nothing can stand against them. Certainly not in the muggle world.” That smile turned positively vicious – which oddly only made her more attractive in my eyes – as she leaned forward and continued with a whisper. “My grandfather took me over the summer to a muggle location. One they had abandoned but was designed to survive their most powerful weapons. I watched as he cast a sliver of Shadow magic so fine that one couldn’t see it unless off-axis from it, and then pushed it towards the muggle structure. It sliced the doors of that place – things thicker than I am tall – in half as if he was spreading butter on toast. And you know what was even more impressive?”

  I shook my head just once, enjoying the story and in awe – along with a touch of fear – of the power her grandfather wielded. “The sliver of Shadow Magic kept going until the mountain the structure was built into was cut clean through.”

  “Fucking hell.” The curse slipped from me freely as my mind processed the insane power of what her grandfather had done. To destroy what could only be a nuclear bunker with just a flick of his wrist… it boggled my mind.

  Now, there were many spells any wizard could use to destroy such a facility, but to do so with just one spell and with the ease Aífe was hinting at. That was something that would terrify anyone who learnt about it, be they muggle or magical. Yet, while I would admit to being fearful at the power her grandfather wielded, the chance that I might be able to do something close… Well, I was glad I was still young. Otherwise, I’d have embarrassed myself before Aífe with how excited the idea made me.

  At the same time, another stream of thought within my mind was already trying to classify where I should rank her grandfather as a threat. And where, potentially, Aífe might one day rank on that scale. For her grandfather – whose name I hoped to learn after reading his letter – I put him near the level of Voldemort, Dumbledore and Grindelwald. Perhaps I was overestimating his power, but it was always wise to err on the side of doing that rather than underestimating a potential threat.

  Ever since the first meeting with Aífe, I had been intending to try to get Clan Mac Uidhir as an ally, or failing that, to remain neutral when I moved to confront both Voldemort and Dumbledore. That intent had only grown, and as the maniacally beautiful young lady across from the table smiled at me – the smile one that might freeze a man’s heart if they didn’t enjoy the same siren’s call of power – I couldn’t help but want her and her Clan at my side in the coming wars.

  “That sort of power…” I paused and licked my lips, trying to contain the appeal radiating from me. “Intoxicating.”

  “Yes,” Aífe agreed in a tone that was as close to a moan of pleasure as one could come without doing so. “Now, I doubt you’ll ever have the power of my grandfather. His magical potential…” She paused, her face freezing before she groaned and grasped her forehead. “Sorry, I said too much.”

  “Akros,” I muttered, understanding what she was trying to say but couldn’t. Probably due to some Clan magical rule.

  Aífe blinked as she recovered. She didn’t nod or shake her head to confirm or deny my suspicion, but I could tell in her eyes that I was right. Her grandfather was, I assumed, like me, and thus was one with the highest possible rating of magical potential in Britain, if not the world. I already believed that Dumbledore and Voldemort were in that same range, but I had no proof. Revealing your potential to someone you didn’t trust, or who wasn’t your Chief or Lord, just wasn’t done.

  For a moment, Aífe looked deep into my eyes, and I felt her mind brush against the outer barriers around mine. Those defences stayed firm, not allowing the Sixth Year past them, but it didn’t take a genius to realise what she was trying to determine.

  “Not nice to try and steal that sort of knowledge,” I commented as she pulled back.

  She shrugged, and her smile returned, though it wasn’t as intoxicatingly twisted as before. “Can’t blame a girl for trying,” she said lightly. “Perhaps in time, we might be willing to reveal such knowledge to each other.”

  “Perhaps,” I agreed. In another portion of my mind, I raced through thoughts on the matter. To be that close to someone… Well, I already knew what that required, and while I didn’t think Aífe was interested in me in the most obvious way to gain that level of trust, I wouldn’t deny that I was against the idea. Nor that once I was a little older and able to do so, she might not join the growing list of girls that had the potential to attract me and would no doubt overtake my dreams at some point. “Perhaps not.”

  Aífe nodded, catching the light warning in my words. “I suppose we will just have to see what the future brings,” she said semi-cryptically. “Returning to the matter of using shadows offensively, let us move so that I can teach you the basic movements you need to cast such spells.”

  She stood, and I followed suit. With a wave of her hand, the table and chairs we’d been using vanished. As she began her explanation of the concept, I couldn’t help my smile. Not just at learning to use Shadow Magic this way, but at finding someone who not only could use the branch of magic but was willing to teach me. And potentially, gain a powerful ally for the future.

  … …

  … …

  I stepped up onto the platform, my eyes conscious that others were watching me as I moved towards one end of the platform and readied myself for the challenge presented to me by Damien Blackwood. Around us, the other members of the wand duelling club, or at least those in Second Year, were lingering. Some were sparring with a friend or a training dummy, but most were speaking quietly with each other.

  While this wasn’t the first duel to take place between students in our year, it was one several people were looking forward to, though more because of my opponent than myself. I’d learnt that Damien’s father had been the British wand duelling champion three times in the last ten years, even reaching the final of the European tournament on two occasions. He didn’t actively duel now, having settled down after Damien and his four siblings had been born and instead joined the DMLE and had risen to the rank of Auror, but it meant Damien had likely received intensive duelling training outside of Hogwarts.

  Now, that wasn’t to say that my training had been lacking. My aunt Moire had instructed me in the art of duelling, and I’d been seeing private tutors for both forms of duelling since I was seven. However, it meant that Damien might well be one of the best duellists in our house, if not our year, so to face him in my first challenge for position was going to be a difficult battle.

  As Damien’s eyes saw me looking his way, he smirked. Clearly, he felt confident in defeating me, though I had a few surprises up my sleeve. Beyond knowing all the spells for Second Year, the arrays carved into my flesh granted me boons that he couldn’t match. Yes, only the second had a direct use in the duel, enhancing my ability to process and react to anything going on around me, but it was a useful boost.

  As I looked down at my feet, ensuring they were set in the correct spots – the platform had markings to help novice wand duelists stand properly – my eyes caught movement at the back of the group gathering to watch. I didn’t turn my head directly, but I saw several Third Years, led by Lucius Malfoy and including Narcissa Black, turning their focus towards the duel. The heir to House Malfoy offered me the most fractional of nods as I realised I had seen him, while at the same time, I thought I saw a small flicker of a smile on Narcissa’s face before she turned to converse with a few of her friends. Friends, it seemed, included Vesta Malfoy, as the girl had moved towards that group of Third years along with those who gathered around her.

  A small part of me wondered how long it would be before Narcissa was betrothed to Lucius, or if it would ever happen in this timeline. Over the summer, or at least once I’d returned from my travels abroad, I had discovered that Lucius was now formally betrothed to Andromeda Black. I was glad I was at home alone when I learnt this, as it was a ripple I’d not expected, but with time to consider the matter, I began to see how, in theory, it could exist even within the other timeline.

  If Andromeda eloped with the muggleborn Ted Tonks, then it would explain the anger held for her by Walburga and others. Not only had she married a muggleborn – a crime to many in House Black – but in doing so, she had embarrassed the Lord of the House. Now, I wasn’t sure if in that timeline it had been Arcturus or his son Orion who had led House Black at that time, but expelling her from the family and removing her right to be called a Black certainly made sense.

  That could all still happen here – there was a Tonks in Andromeda’s year in Hufflepuff; one of the chasers on their Quidditch team – but I couldn’t be certain it would. It also meant that Narcissa was unattached. I’d not given it much thought at the time as to who Arcturus might be considering for her betrothal, but once back at Hogwarts and having Vesta and others seem more open to spending time around me, I’d come to one possible conclusion.

  My opinions on betrothals were neutral, though I was in no rush to seek out a match. Arcturus was aware of that, being one of the first to learn of the matter when he broached it with me. He was also aware, though how he learnt of it I couldn’t say, that those of the Celtic Clans could take secondary wives, and while the practice had fallen out of fashion before the Wizengamot was formed, the law was still in effect in Scotland and Ireland.

  With all that in my head, I wondered if Arcturus was considering suggesting to me sometime in the coming year that I be betrothed to Narcissa, or even one of her cousins. Lyra was a Second Year Ravenclaw, though I had little interaction with her, while Vega was a First Year Slytherin. There was another daughter of House Black, Ursa, but she’d not been accepted to Hogwarts and wouldn’t likely be used to foster an alliance between House Black and another House or Clan.

  As Vesta spoke to Narcissa, though I had no idea what they were saying as Vesta wasn’t facing me enough that I could read her lips, I wondered if both were told by their Lords to see if I was open to a betrothal and if Lord Abraxas was aware that I could take secondary wives. Honestly, I was still greatly against the idea of marrying anyone that I didn’t care for, let alone another. However, I understood that even as a Chief, my opinions on the matter might not matter, as a marriage to secure an alliance with another powerful Clan or House could help me increase my powerbase once I was out of Hogwarts and seeking to start reshaping the Isles the way I wanted.

  “Ah-hem.” The gentle sound had me turn my full attention back to the duel, or more accurately, Professor Churchward as he stood between me and Damien. “While I expect you both are aware of the rules, I shall go over them again.” That was something Professor Donnellan had said would happen for every duel during the first month to ensure that everyone was aware of them and started to learn them by heart. “You are only to use spells that are suitable for your year. Any spells that draw forth elemental effects are banned and will result in an automatic defeat, as will the use of transfiguration or attempting to physically strike your opponent. To emerge victorious, you have to achieve three strikes. These can either be when a spell you cast impacts your opponent’s body, when you disrupt their shield or force them from their stance. The latter is unlikely while you are duelling on platforms like this, but it is still possible to do. Also, if you force your opponent from the platform, that is an automatic victory.”

  Professor Churchward paused there and looked at each of us in turn. “I expect the duel to be clean and fair and that you will obey my words without question. Am I clear?” I nodded when the Professor looked at me, as did Damien. We both knew that this wasn’t just a duel based on school ranking, but one that would start to shape the tiers within our year in Slytherin.

  There had been one duel so far between two members of our house. In that, Adilene Pontius had handily defeated Elsa Broadbent, confirming her place in the top five females of our house. Vesta Malfoy had a challenge due, but that would be taking place within the duelling halls of Slytherin chambers and not the overall club. However, if Vesta were defeated, it would be reported to the Professors running the duelling club to alter the rankings. That suggested that most intra-house duels would take place inside the house chambers, but I didn’t have any confirmation that the other houses had such chambers. I assumed they did, but without proof, I wasn’t going to be certain.

  “Cast your shields!”

  “Aegis.”

  The incantation was stated by both of us, and around my right arm appeared a small shimmering blue shield. The shield looked like a spectral version of a round shield a muggle would see in a museum, one of those smaller ones that barely covered the hand but were supposedly good for duelling, and would stand up against most basic spells. There were more powerful versions of the spell, along with other shielding charms we would learn, but this was the only shield charm allowed for duelling until we entered Fifth Year. I already knew some of those extra spells, and the alterations I could cast for the Aegis charm, and I expected Damien did too, but for now, we were stuck with this charm and the fact that it was fixed against our forearms.

  The only difference in our shields was that mine was on my right forearm, as my main hand was my left, while Damien’s was on his left forearm. It left us in the odd position of our shields and wands being on the same side instead of opposite each other. If we’d not already passed through First Year together, I suspected my being a left-hander might have caused Damien a few issues, but we had, and I had no doubt he’d trained for tackling me and the other left-handers in the duelling club.

  Churchward nodded as he saw that our shield charms were cast and solid. He took a step back, easing his way off the platform. I crouched down, shrinking my profile even further than simply being side-on to my opponent. Damien did the same.

  “Begin!”

  Just as before, the moment the second syllable of the word was said, magic shot forth from my wand. The quickfire spell was the obvious opening salvo and something I’d been trained to use as an opening move until I was able to learn other rapid-fire spells to replace it with or ways to layer in other magic to augment the base spell.

  A series of quickfire bolts erupted from my wand, each racing like a missile towards Damien. As they crashed against his shield or were deflected away, his opening salvo reached me, and I did the same. The quick-fire bolts continued to race from my wand, though I shifted the tip, trying to angle the bolts around his shield and force him to move.

  I dropped lower as his bolts lifted upwards, aiming for my head. Each strike against my shield caused it to ripple, and I felt the challenge to my magic from the contact. However, the shield held as Damien wasn’t casting with the power of those I’d trained with, and thus wouldn’t be breaking the charm with the most basic of spells.

  Of course, in those opening seconds, it became clear to me that my bolts wouldn’t break through Damien’s shield either. Thus, into the stream of bolts I slipped a simple tickling charm as my first shift in approach, the incantation whispered from my lips.

  The different light of the charm caught Damien’s attention just as something new in his repertoire caught mine. As the pale blue light raced towards me, I realised what the charm was, and angled my shield to deflect it.

  Even as I did so, I slipped another charm into the stream of quick-fire bolts racing from my wand. While I didn’t expect any to strike him, there was a power in the rapid nature of the bolts that could be useful. At least against those who didn’t use more advanced spells, charms, or jinxes.

  The air between us grew hazy, and I realised that as Damien had avoided my ticking charm, he’d cast the smokescreen charm. It was a good defensive spell to use. However, with us unable to move from the platform – save a few feet to either side – its use was limited beyond making it harder for both of us to see what was being cast before it reached us.

  Taking advantage of the slowly expanding smoke, I started slipping in other charms to my assault. The Verdimillious Charm’s red sparks mixed in easily with the base colour of the quickfire spell. The Knockback jinx, while not having that advantage, was a good duelling charm and was mixed into my bolts as I shifted the angle and intensity of my casting, trying to catch Damien off-guard.

  Even while part of my mind was focused on offensive casting, another stream of thought was focused on defence. My body moved as each spell raced out of the thickening smoke between us, either to deflect and stop it before it struck me or so that it missed entirely.

  I grunted as I felt something strike my shoulder. The blow wasn’t enough to hurt, but I knew that was a strike against me. I had no idea if I’d managed to hit Damien as the smoke between us was now blocking everything, though each spell that raced through it shifted the air, allowing small pockets of thinner coverage that hinted at his presence beyond.

  I felt a flare of anger at getting struck, but didn’t dwell on that. I wouldn’t allow myself to lose control of myself. Instead, I redoubled my focus and began mixing in various other spells, and increased the intensity of my casting. We were equally matched in how much magic we could draw upon, as the differences in depth and scope of magic didn’t become easily apparent until we’d unlocked our fourth or fifth pathway, but I was more agile and thought faster than him. I didn’t want to reveal my entire hand in this first duel, but there was more chance that Morgana would kiss my arse than I would accept defeat.

  Taking a chance, I flicked my wrist, sending a spiralling array of spells from my wand. At first glance, the shifting pattern wouldn’t seem to make much difference, but as they emerged through the smoke, Damien would be faced with strikes moving around him in a circular pattern.

  While he dealt with that, I aimed my wand low, to a point that should be in front of his feet. From the tip of my wand, a series of box-blasting charms erupted, each moving closer to where I felt my opponent was standing. I intended to drive him back and break his stride, thus granting me a strike against him. As the tip of my wand rose, and my other arm shifted, deflecting what looked like mild curses, I laced in the body-bind curse, tickling and disarming charms between quickfire bolts.

  I had no idea if they were striking, but the combination was one that I’d practised and felt confident in using. Yet even as I kept sending a stream of charms, jinxes, and hexes through the smoke, I felt my shield shatter.

  Growling, I recast it quickly and then stepped forward as much as I could. The stream of spells racing from my wand increased as I pushed every ounce of my magic into them and drew on my enhancements to their fullest, or at least the fullest my body could currently accept.

  As the stream of quickfire bolts raced into the smoke, other spells laced together in streams of alternating chaos, I noticed a flicking change in my quickfire bolts. Little smidgeons of purple danced around the red of the bolts.

  “Stop!”

  The call came from Professor Churchward, and I obeyed it instantly.

  As the smoke dissipated and I saw the Professor stepping onto the platform, I realised that, as my quickfire bolts had gained some extra colour, Damien’s returning fire had slackened and then ended.

  My eyes widened as I saw Damien wasn’t standing at the end of the platform. I couldn’t see him at all actually, but given the way one of the medical staff and another Professor at the club were moving towards the crowd there, which was backing away, I understood what had happened.

  I took a step forward, my wand lowering as I moved, concerned for someone I had considered a friend. Or at least someone I hoped would become one.

  “Winner: Dòmhnall MacLeod,” Professor Churchward called out, though I barely gave him any thought, nor the murmurs and gentle clapping coming from those watching. My focus, as I reached the Professor and moved to slip past him, was on Damien.

  “Let Nurse Jenkins check him over,” the Professor said as his hand grasped my shoulder and I felt a subtle shift in magic around us, as if he’d cast a spell without needing to verbalise it. “It’s not uncommon for someone to get injured in a duel, particularly with Second Years. That said, it has been a good few years since I’ve met a new member of this club who was able to alter their base spell inside the first month.” His voice was a touch lower than it normally was, suggesting he didn’t want others overhearing him, and hinting at what he might’ve cast before speaking to me.

  “I…” My eyes shifted slowly from where Damien was downed out of my sight to the Professor. “I don’t know how I did that, Sir. I had it happen once over the summer when I was dealing with a small redcap problem on my castle grounds, but it wasn’t intentional.”

  Professor Churchward's brow shifted slightly, though I wasn’t certain as to why. “Interesting. As is the fact you’ve begun learning, however unintended, the evolution of your quickfire spell that isn’t generally taught until Fourth Year.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Doing so is perfectly within the rules, though, as I said, not something we expect to see until Fourth Year, so the victory is yours. However, I would advise you not to mention what you did to those around you. It is often unwise for those your age to attempt such things. The results, as you have just seen, can be unexpected.”

  “Yes, Professor.”

  Churchward smiled. “Good. Now go. Check on your friend who, judging by the lack of concern from my fellow staff members, is nowhere near as badly hurt as your fear.”

  I offered the Professor a nod as he let go of my shoulder and made my way to the end of the platform. As I moved, mindful not to rush as that would be unbecoming and even look weak in the eyes of many nearby, I saw that many of the students were watching me. Some were whispering to each other, pointing at me or Damien, though I still couldn’t see him. I didn’t pay them much attention. I could deal with the fallout later, once I was sure with my eyes that Damien was fine.

  Reaching the end of the platform, where he had been standing, I saw him down below. I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw him sitting up, and while he was being checked over by the nurse. There wasn’t any major concern from her as she did so.

  Damien’s eyes caught mine, and he offered a smile, one I returned before moving to the steps leading down from the platform. As I moved closer, the students who had started moving closer to him, curious as to how he was doing, backed away. Several of them had looks in their eyes that suggested that they weren't happy, if not a little fearful of me, but I could deal with them later. Or not as many seemed to be Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, who seemed most ill at ease with my actions.

  “You okay?” I asked once closer, to which he nodded. The action drew a scowl from the nurse.

  “Stay still!” She hissed, which made Damien chuckle even as he obeyed.

  “I didn’t mean to…” Damien lifted an arm and waved it in front of himself, stopping me from continuing.

  “It’s fine. Nothing broken, at least permanently.” The nurse scowled again. “Just means I’m going to have to train harder to beat you next time,” he added with a small smile. One that from knowing him for a year I understood meant he was fine with the defeat. Or at least as comfortable as one could be when forced from the platform as a method of losing.

  I smiled back at him, pleased to see he was in good spirits. Hopefully, this wasn’t just simple childish bravado, as while we weren’t that close, he was still a friend and one of those I hoped to bring under my sway in the coming years. Not just as a follower, but potentially as a member of my inner circle.

  “Right. You’re good to go, just no more duelling today.” As the nurse spoke, she stood back and gave Damien room to stand. “And you,” she added, turning to face me, “Try to be more careful in future. If you drive everyone off the platform, no one’s going to want to duel with you.” I nodded, understanding the warning – and the one unsaid that she didn’t want to keep treating people after I defeated them.

  She walked away as Damien slowly stood. Around me, eyes had either narrowed in the realisation that I was more powerful than they expected or widened in concern and perhaps fear at what I’d done. As the whispers grew more intense, I understood that in the coming days, I was going to have to be cautious in determining how this victory, or more accurately, the manner in which I won, might affect how the rest of the school, particularly those inside Slytherin, regarded me. For now, however, I could enjoy the first of what I hoped were many victories as a duellist.

  … …

  … …

  I moved down the corridor, heading back to the Slytherin chambers. It was early morning, a few days after the duel with Damien, and things in the castle were settling into the same rhythm as last year. Damien and I were fine and had already sparred a few times since the duel. While he seemed fine with everything, there were moments where I swore he seemed oddly relieved to have lost, though perhaps that was just me over-analysing the situation.

  The only major change that had happened was that several of those outside of Slytherin who had been considering duelling me had withdrawn their challenges, citing a need to better prepare for the event. The Professors in the duelling club saw no shame in that, and I was comfortable with it. It served me no purpose to face those who weren’t ready or able to challenge me, as without someone capable of pushing me, I’d never improve as quickly as I wanted and needed.

  Amusingly, the same issue had arisen in the sword duelling club, at least in a sense. Only one boy, Lucian Mortigast, had started above me in the tables, as he was one of only three students to finish the First-Year academic tables above me. The other two, Vesta Malfoy and Christine Greengrass, weren’t in that club.

  Taking a chance, I’d challenged Lucian to a duel in our first class to get an idea of where he stood compared to me. That duel had gone even easier than I’d expected, as while skilled academically, it seemed that Lucian wasn’t as comfortable with a blade. Now, as the firstborn of the heir to House Mortigast, he was trained with a blade, but either he lacked interest in it, or I was simply that much better than him that our duel had barely lasted a minute before I’d scored the required number of strikes against him to be declared the victor. So far, no other member of that club had challenged me, or at least not within my year.

  I had an outstanding challenge from Lucius Malfoy that, while not affecting rankings, was one I’d taken. Not only was it a good way to test myself against a Third Year – and based on his position in both duelling classes, one of the best in the year – but it afforded me the opportunity to get a better read on the heir to House Malfoy. Or at least so I hoped.

  I rounded one of the final corners that would take me back to the Slytherin chambers, looking forward to a morning shower after my run. Ever since my time training in Sparta over the summer, I’d altered my routine so that every morning before breakfast, I headed for runs. At home, that was mainly just circling Dunscaith Castle, but at Hogwarts, I was using most of the grounds inside the wall to the north that marked the grounds of the school. Or at least the inner grounds, since technically even the Forbidden Forest was within the grounds, though no student was allowed to go there without supervision and even then, only the upper years and at certain times of the year.

  As I rounded the corner, I swore I heard something behind me. I started to turn, only for a flash of red to catch my eye before everything turned black.

  … …

  … …

  ...

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