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The following is a side story from Harry Potter and the Trials of Hogwarts.

"Dueling Club: The Second Meeting"
by Dimmer Meerkat and Petra Paisley

Lockhart strode slowly down the length of the golden stage in the inordinately empty great hall. The stage was illuminated by an uncountable amount of candles floating overhead, and the floor was speckled with a few older students, almost none of them muggle-born. The reason for this could have only been due to the very first dueling club meeting, in which it was revealed that a certain someone was a parcelmouth, and thusly it was rumoured that he himself was the Heir of Slytherin and had released some manner of horrible creature from the Chamber of Secrets, setting it upon muggle borns.

Though, this really didn't seem to upset Lockhart's mood towards his new little club. The other non-muggle-born absentees were likely such because of the very leader of this club. In fact, in sharp contrast to the first meeting, the second meeting of the dueling club now had a disproportionate ratio of females to males present. Most of the males in Hogwarts were put off by Lockhart, while a substantial wave of females in the school could hardly contain their obsessions with him. The minority of those present were those who were actually looking to have some sort of monitored and evaluated dueling contest. It was the perfect chance to impress other students in attendance and to get a... mostly unbiased ruling in favour of one duelist over another.

Of course, there was Professor Snape to consider, who was never really known for his non-partisan attitude. Nevertheless, he was a fine duelist himself, and the students who didn't entirely fear him knew well enough to grasp the fact that there was much to learn from this enigmatic grumpy greasy-haired snob.

It seemed that a majority of those present were Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. Hufflepuffs were in very rare supply since so many of them were muggleborn and thusly feared for their lives. Slytherins, well... Slytherins, for the most part, had always been cowards with few exceptions. If they thought Harry Potter to be in control of whatever horrible monster lurked in the Chamber of Secrets, it was a situation quite similar to that of the missing Hufflepuff students'. They were scared that Harry Potter, who was none too fond of Slytherins to begin with, could have them petrified or worse any moment now. Snape looked horribly displeased with the small group of Slytherins that had turned out, but far be it for him to not put their skills to the test, and push them to fulfill some sort of deep-rooted need to see a vanquished Gryffindor lying at a Slytherin's feet. The potions professor would be the one to pair off each and every single one of the students in attendance with one another, while Lockhart beamed at them, trying to pretend that he was not at all intimidated by the much more credible wizard standing beside him.

"I will read off your pairs, and you shall mount the stage and assume the accepted dueling stance. From then you will duel until I call for cessation, whereupon I will announce a winner," he drawled, venomously as usual, yet somewhat boredly. "I will read off five pairs of students, and you will duel in the order that I have dictated. Am I clear?"

All of the students shook their heads timidly.

"From my house, Ms. Alicin, versus Mr. Ordell, from Hufflepuff," he said.

Amber elbowed her way through the crowd, a little bit ticked by the decision. Petra had attempted to stop her, reaching out to take her by the shoulder, but losing her in her little tantrum. "Professor," Amber said. "Can't I just pick my own partner? I think someone more on my level would be much better. Petra Paisley for instance," she argued.

Snape looked down at Amber from his perch upon the stage. He gave her a long, cold stare that caused her to falter a bit. "Do you feel that Mr. Ordell's abilities surpass yours?" he asked loudly enough for everyone to hear. He was, of course, no stranger to the frequent dueling matches that so many had witnessed between Petra and Amber. Being the understanding gentleman that he was, he wasn't about to allow a Gryffindor the luxury of standing against someone that she had beaten at least three times in a row. It would be an embarrassment to Snape and his entire house. Although, he did have to second guess his idea to pit Amber against Beran Ordell. He was two years her senior and a Quidditch player with a healthy amount of stamina, if nothing else. To lose to a Gryffindor was one thing... but to a Hufflepuff?

"No, I just think that we-"

"Then you forfeit the match," Snape barked. "I will read off the rest of the names."

Amber's jaw just about reached the floor. She wanted to duel--otherwise she wouldn't have wasted her time with this club, but right now she was losing to her friendly Gryffindor rival, and she wanted the chance to make the equalizer. Suddenly her chance to do even so much as a little practice match against the annoyingly overprotective older brother of Amber's sweetheart was denied her. She ground her teeth and moved back to Petra, crossing her arms before her chest. "Can you believe that guy," she complained quietly.

"From Gryffindor, Ms. Paisley, versus Ms. Winter, Slytherin," said Snape in a voice that seemed to shatter the awkward silence that Amber's arguments had brought about.

It took very little time before a fourth year Slytherin girl mounted the stage. As opposed to some of the more notable females of Slytherin such as Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson, this girl's appearance was quite radiant. Her skin appeared soft and unspotted, and her hair was an almost white shade of blonde, rivaling that of Lucius Malfoy's hair. She had a gently pointed chin, piercing blue eyes, and her posture was none-too-horrible either.

She waited to see her dueling partner, scanning over the audience for her opponent with a sort of condescending glare, although an icey glare, rather than a fiery one. Winter was confident in her abilities to thwart anyone in this room that could have been called to face her, and she wasn't one much to enjoy public humiliation. She had a bit of a reputation to watch over--Certainly not one of the likes of the rich and spoiled son of Lucius Malfoy, nor the noble and admirably cruel yet composed Erin Greaves--But a reputation as a strong and independent girl who was both as cunning as she was brave. Or, as some opponents would consider her--As ridiculously arrogant as the Slytherin she was, and yet as stupidly wreckless as a Gryffindor that she might have ought to have been.

Petra gave a curious sideways glance towards Amber, she was unfamiliar with this Slytherin girl. With a shrug she pushed herself though the crowd of students and nimbly leapt up upon the stage with no hesitation. Petra brushed a lock of hair out of her face in vain, as it nearly immediately returned to almost the exact same place. She regarded this Winter with intrigue, her head cocked just slight to the side, sizing up her opponent. Winter seemed to be in good shape, was lean, composed and just stood a hair shorter than herself - and most notably appeared to be quite unafraid, to which Petra allowed herself a smile.

Petra's fingers drummed against the hilt of her wand as she drew it slowly, advancing towards the other girl as was custom. She placed her free hand elegantly behind her back, her wand raised in front of her face and one foot just in front of the other, posturing herself to be quite the aristocrat. Her bow was slight; Petra wasn't about to forfeit eye contact - that would be improper - and she offered a curt smile to her new adversary.

Winter was far from unimpressed with her opponent. She had heard things about the pugnacious Petra Paisley before, but never once had she made contact with her. So rarely did she venture outside of her own group of friends even when sharing classes with other houses, that this girl's face was completely unfamiliar to her. When came the time to observe the standard formalities of a duel, she felt as though she might have been looking in a mirror. The two girls seemed to bow at the exact same time, with nearly identical postures, and the same anxious air flowing from her that seemed to prevent both girls from unlocking their engaged gazes. They both took three wide steps in the opposite direction and turned to face one another.

"Wands at the ready," Professor Snape commanded, sounding arguably anxious to see the results of this fateful match. "On the count of three... One, two, three."

Winter had half a second to suppress a snarl at the way the students watching suddenly looked to her expectantly on "two," as if she'd be so stupid as to throw her spell at that time, instead of waiting for "three." It wasn't that Winter was incapable of foul play, but that she wouldn't dare attempt such a thing in front of so many people, nor in a duel of this sort. There was some value in knowing that a victory came on equal grounds. In the case of a duel, her cunning would be put to use during the fight, and not before. After all, it wasn't foul play to be cunning during the duel... And certainly no one would be justified in arguing that a victory achieved by Winter in this match was undeserved, as they would be so in arguing the same had she thrown her attack at "two."

On three, she found that she had hesitated a second too long, and that Petra had already thrown a spell. She was forced to take the defensive.

"Protego!," she cried, left arm extended and wand in hand. A somewhat translucent yet perfectly visible shield emitted from her wand, intercepted the spell, and then shattered, nullifying the spell entirely. It was a colourful display of fireworks, and Winter seized the moment of pretty distraction to quickly fire a rebound at her opponent. "Petrificus Totalus!" With aesthetically sound but seemingly unnecessary flourishing of her wand, she sent forward her spell, but remained alert and ready for any offensive on Petra's part.

The observing students were cheering for their favourite contender. Amber cupped her hands around her mouth to project her voice the good old muggle way. "Come on Pet!"

Petra couldn't help but take notice of how the girl over-flourished her wand, and frowned slightly - it looked quite fancy. Swiftly, she called out "Avis!" thrusting her wand upward in a slashing motion, which sent a flock of little birds forth from that were immediately petrified and dropped to the floor beneath them.

Petra drew back for a moment, repositioning herself with her head held high and leaning forward slightly, she raised her wand once more and exclaimed, "Spiculum!" conjuring the stinging hex to be hurtled from her wand towards the haughty Slytherin girl.

Winter was decently impressed with Petra's reaction time. She was actually turning out to be a decent challenge, although she was getting a little annoying. Winter was not about to be embarrassed by someone that she'd never before heard of in her entire life. She practically shouted over Petra's incantation when she caught the jist of what spell it was that Petra was going to throw. Timing and projectile on Winter's spell was of high importance, and any folly could cost her.

"Serpensortia!"

A black cobra shot out of the end of her wand and flew straight in to Petra's stinging spell. Winter's timing had been a bit clumsy, but her efforts were met mostly with success. The serpent was stung and thusly roused and now hissing and charging Petra. If nothing else, it could be a sound distraction for Petra while Winter squeezed her wand several times, to attempt to flex out the pain from the stinging spell that had hit her serpent before it was entirely free from her wand, carrying its effects down the length of the wand and in to her hand and upper arm. Thankfully it hadn't gone much further.

There was still time for one more attack if Winter could think quickly enough. She knew of a spell that could duplicate objects that might work to increase the serpent's numbers, but she couldn't remember the incantation, nor was she at all practiced with it. She would have to look in to it later that night.

She pointed her wand at the quickly charging serpent. "Engorgio!"

The spell cost the serpent its speed, but it grew quite large, rivaling that of nature's largest boas, but nothing near the size of a basilisk. This would prove more challenging for Petra than the small cobra she'd sent her way before.

At first disappointed at Winter's choice of spells, Petra thought she might be simply bored by the tired snake attack that everyone had seen at the last duel; however the girl impressed her, and she soon found herself facing a large and ornery asp that reared up and hissed at her menacingly. Petra couldn't help but let out an impressed laugh, though laced with something akin to resentment - this girl was proving to be an accomplished rival.

With a small flick of her wand, she muttered "Confundo," and the snake seemed immediately confused, wildly thrashing its head from side to side as though it was unable to pick out a target. With a highly recognizable swish and flick, the snake was gently levitated from it's position and effortlessly turned around, facing the duelist which had conjured it in the first place. A terse smile played at the corner of Petra's lips as she set the snake down, boldly crying out "Oppugno!" which set the snake a frenzy, ready to attack it's own caster.

Winter had to keep a level head about her for many reasons. Always at stake was how she came out of this duel, both to her stubborn opponent and to the witnesses below. There was also sound evidence to suggest that in a wizard duel, wits were not expendable, and could spell victory for any witch or wizard who used them to their full potential. Nonetheless, it was terribly difficult for the blonde Slytherin not to let her tongue slip in to a notorious and time-wasting fit of swears, and maintain her composure.

She did well, stepping forward with the next of her arsenal of spells, wand directed at the very beast she conjured. This particular spell was a difficult one that took a great deal of energy and concentration, but she was able to land it with successful results. "Confringo!"

The snake, just as it was rearing to strike its summoner suddenly exploded into little fiery bits. The split second it took for Winter to recover from casting the curse was one split second too many, and she noticed Petra already readying an offensive attack. At attention, Winter met this challenge and threw her spell at the same time as Petra. "Furnunculus!"

Should the spell land, Winter would feel some amount of satisfaction at forcing retribution upon her opponent for the inflammated skin on her wand-wielding left arm.

Out of instinct alone Petra called upon the shield charm, if only seconds too late. She groaned as she felt her right hand blister, the burning sensation creeping up her arm. Petra had payed little mind to the fact that she had successfully blocked a small portion of the spell, which was deflected onto some poor onlooker who was completely surprised by it. Petra seized her wand with her other hand and pointed it at herself, muttering "Finite," to stop it from spreading further. She had neither the time nor patience to bother with healing it/

Composing herself once more, Petra narrowed her eyes, only now coming to realize that there was a slight commotion in the crowd which distracted the teachers. Seizing this as an opportunity, and feeling somewhat childish, she stood tall and with great flourish cast "Aguimenti!"

When the right spell's incantation didn't come to Winter quickly enough, she moved arm in front of her as if to block the stream of water. Hogwarts robes were equipped with loose sleeves, which happened to work to Winter's advantage. She touched her sleeve with her wand, needing no incantation to use the impervius charm, so very accustomed to using the spell for a variety of things, especially her own robes. She wasn't one much to enjoy being drenched on a rainy day.

The water curved away from her sleeve quite suddenly and dramatically, dousing the onlooking students below and knocking quite a few of them down. If Winter had failed to grasp the bottom of her right sleeve with her left arm, she might have been hit anyway, since the fabric of her sleeve was so light and flexible. Held stiffly, it worked as a sort of shield. She mentally kicked herself for not using one, although in some cases those shields could fail against relentless attack, and the stream of water wasn't dying down. Her opponent was indeed annoyingly stubborn.

"That's enough," said Professor Snape irritably, waiting until Petra ceased fire to continue. "This match has drawn on long enough, and as such, it is a draw."

Winter looked almost livid.

"Right then. Bow to each other," said a retardedly chipper Lockhart.

Winter merely glared at him and stepped off the stage.

Petra huffed, frustrated that she seemed to land no hits on her opponent, and being forced to stop. She glared at Lockhart, and when she turned back Winter was already trudging off of the stage. Petra exited on the opposite side, having no interest in "catching up" with her newly discovered dueling mate. In the midst of trying to find her way back to Amber she was headed off by the ever-present Hufflepuff, Cedric, who was voicing his approval of her performance.

Still rather irked, she snapped, "Don't suppose you'd fancy a go?" - her use of common English colloquialisms always sounded somewhat amusing with her clearly non-English accent. His face paled a little and he took an uneasy step back, a gesture she couldn't help but notice. "Sorry," she muttered sheepishly. "I wanted to win," she explained, and a smile crept across her face, "Or at least be beaten," she added.

"Preferably the former," Cedric responded, looking down on Petra with some amount of concern. But now was not the time for a hug, and Petra was in a sort of mood where he feared that if he had been bold enough to hug her, she would have either broke down into hysterical sobs, or beaten him silly.

Amber ran to Petra, ruddy old muggle street shoes (hell knows how she obtained them) squishing with the sound of trapped water. She was dripping from head to toe and seemed to have been hit directly by the deflected spell. Unsurprisingly however, Amber pretty much didn't mind her embarrassing state of being. Cedric took a gigantic step away from the drenched Slytherin, not interested in her dripping all over him.

"You did great!" Amber exclaimed, thumping Petra on the back one too many times. "But if I were up there against you I would have won, for the record."

"Yet you couldn't dodge a deflected spell?" Cedric asked, smirking a little at Petra's strange and often silly friend.

Amber shook her head much like a dog would when wet, sending beadlets of water in every direction--the likes of which Cedric was quick to block with the sleeves of his robe. "I don't know what you're talking about." She gave him a bit of a scowl, then looked to Petra, expression changing back to that of enthusiastic admiration. "Anyway, ask me, you won that one. I mean, you would have if Snape didn't call it quits, so."

Amber's sodden disposition lightened Petra's mood considerably, and she too tried to block the oncoming water droplets with little success.

"Probably good that he did," she said, sullenly agreeing with the teacher's authority, "She didn't seem entirely pleased with me," she mused with a grin. "Oh, any idea who she is?" she asked Amber quizzically.

Amber nodded, absently sifting through her wet and clumped together bleach-blonde hair--Hair that was once brown, but recently was dyed in a successful attempt at charming a girl she fancied. "Yeah, sleep in the same dorm after all," she said, looking back at a crowd of Slytherins crowding Winter and obscuring her from sight. "Her name's Marie Winter. Nothing too terribly special about her. She's pretty quiet though. At least when I'm around... Probably because I'm so intimidating, and she doesn't want to provoke me."

Sometimes it was hard to tell when Amber spoke merely in jest, or when she seriously thought quite highly of herself. She was a Slytherin after all. It was a little hard to tell.

Petra chuckled - whether or not it was a joke, it was funny - and Cedric rolled his eyes.

"You want any help with that?" Petra asked her, gesturing to her soaked robes. "I feel partially to blame," she added with a grin.

"Help with what?" Amber asked, acting as if she were completely oblivious to how heavy, cold, and uncomfortable her robes suddenly were.

Cedric rolled his eyes once more, before the next two duelers caught his eye. From the house of Ravenclaw, Anna, versus a Gryffindor who Cedric recognized as a third year that often loitered with Hufflepuff friends just outside of the Hufflepuff common room. When Anna looked to him, he smiled to her and nodded his head in encouragement. Her frown transformed to a smile, and she was able to start the duel confidently, quite suddenly.

Amber tilted her head back, sizing up the two duelers, then snorted. She turned to face the stage. "Go Go Gryffindor!" she chanted loudly, just before itching the back of her neck. She spun around and silently wondered if there was some sort of magic to make glares physically burn, and if this magic had been taught to everyone in her house aside from herself. It burned quite horribly.

Petra didn't bother hiding her amusement at Amber's antics, whether it be to Cedric's chagrin or not. Not that she had anything against Anna in particular, she just always seemed to get in the way of her time with a few different friends. Cedric, however, glared at the soaked Slytherin girl.

"So Amber," he leered rather uncharacteristically, "Why wouldn't you go up against Beran?"

Amber snorted again, crossing her arms. "I'd go up against that scab any day," she said with some venom in the term "scab." "It's just that I wanted to square it off with Pet first. Got a score to settle and I'm fixin' to do it in public, you know."

She grinned at Petra. She was a sound diversion from the suddenly pugnacious Cedric. Amber was never a fan of Anna's. Too often had she seen her as a threat to what she had been building between Sara and herself. And still, she saw her as an obstacle, and a generally annoying person around the clock. She had dreamt a few times of breaking her glasses while she wore them. The only thing that really stopped her was Sara's insistance that she try to be a little more passive around her friend.

Cedric mimicked Amber's gestures of defiance, and threw in yet another eye roll to complete the package, even letting a scarcely uttered "Bollocks" to slip out.

"Snap out of it," Petra said, snapping her fingers in front of Amber's face as she drifted off into a daydream, and Petra could well assume what it was about. "Jeeze," she added with a chuckle, "Like a dog dreaming about rabbits, you're practically drooling! Down girl!" she added. With their friendly display, Petra too began to feel the heat of an angry glare and glanced behind her, noticing that girl, Winter staring her down. Never one to turn down pushing someone's buttons, she offered a wry grin to the girl before turning away.

Amber blinked and shook her head, visibly retreating from her thoughts. She absently grabbed Petra's hand and moved it out of her line of vision. "What? Rabbits?" she asked. Amber was so confused by this statement that even when she followed Petra's glance to Winter, she didn't think anything of it at all, trying to work out the problem in her head. "Well, it's the only thing I can do. Sara would kill me if I laid another fist in to Anna."

There was a moment of silence. "Wait, what were we talking about? Anna, right?"

Amber's confusion served to befuddle Petra, and she shrugged. "No idea," she said, turning her attention back to the stage just in time to see Anna take a stunning spell directly in the chest. She couldn't suppress a smile, regardless of how Cedric flinched beside her.

With Anna's defeat, Snape called the match, and started to read of the next of the names, but Amber boldly interrupted him, which forced about half of the other students to stop breathing. "Professor Snape! I can take Beran!" she said loudly.

With his usual temperamental air, he stared Amber down. Amber shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a little nervously, but held her ground. It seemed as if Snape was evaluating her. "Very well then. Mr. Ordell. Ms. Alicin. Mount the stage."

She clapped her hands together once, bowed a tad sarcastically, and moved towards the stage quickly. Before she could make it up, Snape snapped his fingers and pointed at her, watching her expectantly. "Your robes..."

Amber tilted her head. "O-off?"

"You're dripping..." he replied, verging on raising his voice significantly. "Robes."

"Right, so," Amber said, taking off her heavy, freezing cloak. She threw it towards the audience grinning charmingly, but when everyone moved away and let the heavy thing noisily suck to the floor, she frowned. Her sweater beneat was surprisingly dry. She rolled up her sleeves and grinned at Beran when he finally mounted the stage.

"Bet you've been looking forward to this, eh?" she said to her opponent, wand at the ready.

"Formalities, Alicin," Snape warned. Amber was testing his patience.

With over-exaggerated hand gestures, she bowed lowly to him, then took three paces back... Then a fourth reaaaally small one.

Beran smiled curtly. "Good to see you still think highly of yourself, as always," he said while bowing. He raised his wand and waited for Snape's count to three, silently and almost motionlessly erecting a sheild around him as soon as "one" was spoken. He knew better than to expect Amber to wait for the count.

Amber's grin went from overconfident to a bit sheepish. She liked to pretend that she thought highly of her self at very least, although that struck a cord or two. Only Sara understood what sort of person Amber really was, and only she could accept it. Beran had never been a fan of her, so it wasn't hard to make herself dislike him in this moment. It was like imagining the face of the person you hate the most on a punching bag... Only the punching bag in this case had a face and movements of its own, and the theoretical "face" that she had to imagine was attributed to an imaginary scenario in which Beran actively sought to end things between Amber and Sara.

Predictably, Amber threw her spell after "two" but well before the professor had even begun to say "three."

"Impedimenta!"

Beran cracked a cocky grin coupled with a slight eyebrow raise, and moved his wand just so, directing the already raised shield in hopes to reflect her hex directly back onto her.

Amber gasped, then took the spell head on, only able to block part of the damage with her arms. The spell threw her on to her back. She scrambled to her feet. "When did you put up a shield?! That's cheating," Amber growled.

Aggressively, she charged him, stopping short to cast "Incendio," aimed for his robes. As Petra was likely well aware, Amber performed best in close range combat, where her reactions were typically instinctive and her thought process seemed to operate differently than it did at a distance. To Amber, shooting spells at one another at long ranges didn't feel like a fight at all, but when she was close to her enemy, she felt absolutely animalistic and thusly actually treated the duel as a duel instead of a firing range contest.

That, and she was absolutely horrible with long-range spells...

Beran was caught slightly unaware by the intensity of the spell Amber used, the smell of burning fabric became swiftly obvious and he threw off his robes which smoldered on the ground. He frowned, and raised his wand, silently casting the stunning spell at Amber.

Amber tried to evacuate the area where Beran silently fired his spell, but she wasn't entirely used to dueling with someone who needed very few incantations. Petra, her sparring buddy, knew a couple, but after so many duels between the two it wasn't too challenging to read her body language and memorize the spells she knew how to cast wordlessly. Beran was much more advanced than her sparring peer.

She managed to get out of the way for the brunt of the spell, but was still clipped in her side with it. The spell made her side feel numb and it was difficult to maneuver the way that she had been before. Quite honestly, Beran was really getting on Amber's nerves. He was embarrassing her, and provoking her with his all too confident approach to this battle. What really irked her was that he barely had to be on his guard to be a challenge for her.

Emotions bubbling over and rational half of her mind shutting down, Amber lurched toward Beran, grabbed him by the tie and punched him, only to be ripped off of him immediately by a very cross looking Professor Snape. "You'll not use your fists in a wizard duel. Do it correctly," he said sternly, shoving her back away from Beran.

Amber shook her head and attempted to calm herself. Silently she wondered if Sara would be upset with her if she heard what she did to Beran in this duel. Or if she had been hiding somewhere in the crowd, out of the Professor's eye where she couldn't be called, but at a sound place to sit and watch the proceedings.

Beran was so surprised by Amber's outburst he hadn't had time to shove her aside before Snape pried her off of him. He touched where Amber and just punched him and grimaced, rather unsure of what he'd done to deserve it - aside from being an annoyingly watchful older sibling, of course.

As much as he knew to expect Professor Snape's bias towards his own house, he was slightly taken aback when he allowed the duel to continue. Had it been any other student, it would have been over and the attacker would have immediate detention. He sighed and smoothed his shirt, drawing forth his wand once more. Beran was fighting his urge to retalliate with unnessecary force, if only to avoid harsh repremand from his sister.

In that, he settled on the harmless though embarassing "Levicorpus!" which he cast aloud so as to not incur such a severe reaction from the Slytherin girl.

Amber had been preparing to attack when suddenly her feet were pulled from under her. She was lifted in to the air, upside down. She tried to struggle against the invisible bonds that held her there, but it was no use. Growling now at Beran, she looked to the audience.

Winter's cold blue eyes met hers. It was odd that Amber felt compelled not to entirely look away. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the other Slytherin seemed to have something to tell her. Amber was grateful that she didn't look away, because Winter silently mouthed something at her. It took the upside-down girl a while before she entirely understood what it was she was telling her. Here Amber had been completely ready to give up, not remembering what exactly to do to get out of this situation, but now she remembered the incantation. She pointed her wand up at her shoe and said, "Liberacorpus." It was so obvious. Amber simply wasn't thinking.

With a loud crumpling sound, she hit the ground, back first. Rolling over in pain, she glared at Beran. "Alright, annoying big brother...," she said, breathing harshly and slowly getting to her feet--quite obviously a little angry. She pointed her wand at him quickly and shouted with every intent of severely harming Beran, "stupefy!"

Beran took an instinctive step back when Amber got to her feet, and as quickly as he could countered the stunning spell with a shield, though one not nearly strong enough. While it curbed the numbing sensations of the spell he was still slammed backwards with great force, so much that he crashed into the wall behind him. He couldn't help but cry out in surprise and pain, and he forced himself to at least get up on his knees to retaliate.

Feeling a bit more agressive and rather provoked he aimed at a chair just behind Amber and growled, "Reducto!"

The chair just behind Amber suddenly exploded quite violently. The blast sent her forward, flat on her face, and the momentum of her catapult had her sliding across the stage for a short while. Amber stopped moving, face down on the stage, and Snape visibly suppressed a very disappointed sigh.

"This duel belongs to Mr. Ordell," he said in an irritable tone. "You may both leave the stage."

When Amber still didn't move, Snape marched to her, grabbed her by the back of her shirt collar, and brought her to her feet. Snape couldn't release her entirely however, because she was quite apparently out cold... Which was probably a good thing, because she might have started trying to stab Beran with her wand. Her nose and hairline were bleeding somewhat. "To the infirmary. Professor Lockhart, if you would be so kind," he said, somewhat appreciating the opportunity to get rid of Lockhart before he could attempt to do something ridiculous.

Lockhart approached Snape and Amber, cleared his throat, and pointed his wand at Amber. Snape held up his free hand to stop his attempt. "Just carry her to the infirmary. A natural recovery would be best," he lied, not exactly wanting Lockhart to mess up one of his own students, how ever disappointingly she had performed.

"Right then," Lockhart said. "I was just about to suggest the very same. Very well handled Snape. You'll go places one day," he said, scooping Amber in to his arms somewhat carelessly. While Snape glared daggers at Lockhart for his arrogance, many of the female students around them groaned, tisked, and whispered jealously at seeing another girl in Lockhart's arms. Amber herself might not have appreciated it as much as any of them possibly could. Lockhart soon made his way out the door with Amber.

Cedric scratched his chin. "If you don't mind my saying, the girl had it coming."

Beran put a hand to his forehead and groaned. Knocking his sister's girlfriend unconscious wasn't exactly what he had in mind - and he shuddered to think of the retribution, be it from Amber or Sara. He climbed off of the stage slowly, reaching back to rub one of his shoulders which was considerably sore. Dutifully, he felt obligated to follow Lockhart in hopes that the damage wasn't as severe as it seemed.

Petra was immediately behind Beran, either out of earshot of, or just ignoring Cedric's comment. She had half a mind to say something smart to the older Hufflepuff, but she had watched the entire duel and couldn't say that (given the emotional ties they both had to the same person) that either of them were uncharacteristically unfair. She settled for an accusatory, "So you couldn't have gone easy on her, huh?" which seemed to be precisely what he didn't want to hear, his expression utterly guilt-laden. Forcing herself not to console him or "take back" her accusation out of pity - because he did very clearly feel horrible about it - she kept her chin high and declined to make eye contact further.

"Sara's going to kill me," he muttered hopelessly.

Petra chuckled, "It's not Sara I would worry about," she said with an immediate sigh, understanding why Amber's ego would be signifigantly bruised after this encounter. It wasn't just a matter of proving that she was better than Beran, but while Amber may not ever admit it, she wanted him to see that she was just as capable of protecting Sara as he was. This was likely entirely lost on Beran who wasn't renowned for being the most sensitive or emotionally astute; she half considered explaining it to him but decided against it, the timing just didn't seem appropriate as he would likely just be on the defensive.

"You did very well, boy," Lockhart said to the Hufflepuff who couldn't tear his eyes from his heels. "For such an exemplary performance, I daresay you're eligible for a free--autographed--copy of my published work, Magical Me," he said pompously. He was so entirely self absorbed that he had retreated to thoughts of his own "greatness," neglected to watch where he was going, and dutifully tripped right over a lonely wooden bucket in the middle of the hall. His spill caused Amber to fall out of his arms, hit the ground, and slowly come to on her own.

She sat up, holding her head and goaning. Touching her forehead just about where her hairline was, and feeling a small tear in her skin. She examined her finger and looked perplexed to see blood there, then she dabbed her wet upper lip with her pinky, a little less perplexed by the blood this time around. "Damn..." she muttered, looking first to Lockhart, then to Petra and Beran. Amber stood up and cleared her throat, not really sure what to say. Defeat was embarassing.

Her ego was normally unaffected by duels with Petra that turned out in the Gryffindor student's favour, but for some reason, the outcome of this duel with Beran--which she didn't really care for until Cedric provoked her--really wounded her pride. It was such a defeat that while she normally would have gone on to at least verbally assault the person who had defeated her, she simply couldn't say much of anything.

Petra and Beran were silent, expecting her to say something, and not quite sure they ought to ask if she was okay or not.

Amber looked around sheepishly, then cleared her throat in an attempt to stop her trembling voice from sounding too terribly weak. "Which way to the dungeons?" she asked absently, not bothering to acknowledge Lockhart, still on the ground. The goof.

"You really ought to see Madam Pomfrey," Beran immediately regretted saying, for fear that it came off as being exceedingly arrogant. He looked to Petra helplessly, silently begging her to diffuse what he had just said.

"He's right, you know," she said, helping her friend up. "If you go back to the dungeon's now you'll probably bleed all over some... pillow of Malfoy's or something, and then where would you be, hm?"

Beran resolved to help the fallen Lockhart to his feet, who instantaneously assured him that he was more than fine and completely capable of recovering from such a tiny fall.

Amber shook her head, forcing a bit of a smile. "I'm okay," she replied to Petra. It took her a little longer to actually look at Beran. She held her chin high and swallowed hard, keeping an unsteady gaze on him. "Next time, I'll win. I was only going easy on you because you're Sara's brother," she lied, although the lie served to soothe her broken pride somewhat. It was almost even a lie she believed herself. Perhaps she was subconsciously restraining herself with Sara's feelings in mind. Amber could have sworn she did better in the occasional duel against Petra.

Yes, she must have been holding back. That's it.

Her false smile turned in to a genuine little grin. "When I do win," she started. "You can stop treating me like I'm a criminal." Sometimes it seemed to Amber as if Beran simply mistrusted her, and that was what made it so easy to illusion herself that he would ever try to come between herself and Sara.

He smiled softly, relieved that she responded with the haughty arrogance that was so distinctly Amber, however his brow furrowed at her accusation.

"I don't think you're a criminal, Amber, it's just..." he trailed off, unsure of how to describe exactly what it was he felt. Pushing aside his mistrust for the Slytherin house, and further pushing aside his own past experiences with a manipulative pureblood Slytherin, he was just left with one thing. "Don't you have any brothers or sisters? Anyone to look after?"

Amber pressed her lips together and looked past a corner distractedly. The topic of siblings wasn't one she wanted to discuss with Beran right then and there. It was still a raw topic with Amber--How her parents had been so cruel as to abandon her little sister, and to have the gall to try to tell her that she had died or run away. Amber wasn't an idiot, and her parents' lies were as transparent as they were astoundingly callous. Not that the truth that they eventually were forced to admit to her was much warmer. Still, to this day, Amber regretted the fact that she hadn't been there for her sister, and she completely failed to protect her. It was a heavy burden to carry to this day, and she still despised her parents with a fiery passion for what they were capable of.

"I wouldn't hurt Sara," she said lowly, sounding coldly distant.

Beran frowned, feeling even more guilty and struggled to find anything to say.

"Well this is awkward," Petra announced, turning to Amber. "Where to?"

Amber forced another tiny smile for Petra, trying to ease the tension. She didn't want to be melodramatic right now anyway. Not in front of these people anyway. "I really don't want to go to the infirmary. I have a little headache, and I can take care of this cut on my head any time I want... And look, my nose has stopped bleeding so." Looking both ways down the hallway, she shrugged, and Lockhart was being of no help, flashing stupid grins at the water that he dumped over on the ground when he dripped. Amber rolled her eyes.

As if reading her thoughts, he snapped to attention. "Ah, yes, well what was the problem again? To the infirmary!" he announced, finger pointed forward in the wrong direction. Apparently he hadn't been paying attention.

"Erh," Amber started. "I'm fine, really. Maybe we should go back to the dueling club and watch the other matches?"

Lockhart whipped out an entirely too shiney pocket watch, flipped it open, and examined it. "Oh, I expect that the duelling club will be drawing to a close soon. That first duel was a lot longer than I had anticipated. And I'm sure Professor Snape knows well enough to dismiss the club in my stead. It is too bad that those students who arrived to see me will have seen the last of me for the night, but there will be other club meetings."

Amber bit her lip hard. "Dueling club should be for dueling, not drooling over some conceite-"

"Speak of the devil!" Lockhart interruped. "Sounds like they've been released already. Just in time too. About ten minutes to curfew. Well, children, take care of yourselves, and don't do anything that I wouldn't."

As the echoes of a few dosen students' footsteps approached, Lockhart strode in the direction of his own office. It was strange that he would retreat from a crowd that was packed with adoring fans of his, but when they turned the corner, Amber and the others understood why he retreated. Snape was with the students, walking beside a certain snowy-blonde haired Slytherin girl. While the students in the bunch started branching off in the directions of their respective common rooms and around the three students standing in the middle of the hall, Snape and the girl moved towards Amber--Snape with incredible speed, wand in hand.

He poked her bangs out of the way of the cut on her hairline with his wand, trying not to hiss at the girl. Her defeat must have been embarassing for him as well. While he examined Amber, whose lips were now pressed together nervously, Winter joined his side. "Not as horribly frail as I'd expected," he commented.

"H-hey," Amber protested quietly.

Snape looked to Beran, then Petra, while speaking to Amber. "I find your experience in this field severely lacking, so I've enlisted a volunteer peer tutor and dueling partner."

Winter nodded to Amber, then watched Petra with the same sort of annoyingly calm and confident gaze she'd given her before their duel.

The potions professor continued. "You will face Mr. Ordell in March once more."

"Ha?" was all Amber could muster.

Snape took off almost as fast as he charged her, turning the opposite direction. It seemed to be his intent to break this to her in the infirmary, but it was probably for the better that she never made it. She could only imagine that he would be twice as irritated, seeing her bed-ridden because of an inane explosive charm from a Hufflepuff, despite said Hufflepuff's seniority.

Winter remained facing Amber, and surveying both Petra and Beran. After a moment, she gave Amber her full attention. "This Saturday we'll work on spell memorization. You seem to be lacking in that aspect of dueling."

Amber scratched the back of her head and examined her feet. "Only when I'm flustered," said Amber pathetically, then she muttered something about Sara, a date, and not wanting to do more studying than she absolutely had to over the weekend, which Winter ignored, turning her attention to Petra.

The air between Petra and Winter was tense, but Winter extended her hand to shake Petra's, eyes unchanging.

]Petra and Beran were both silent while Professor Snape confronted Amber, and Beran watched him with mild curiosity as he left. As it was indeed nearly curfew, he needed to be getting to his duties. "I'm going to see if I can recover my robes," he said to Petra, though he offered a small smile to Amber," and with that he left.

Petra nodded to him as he left and returned her attentions to Winter, gingerly accepting her hand with a firm and assertive shake. "Winter, was it?" she asked coolly, her expression calm and calculating.

Winter nodded. "And you're Petra Paisley," she said, contending in a staring contest that both focused on gaze and composure with the Gryffindor. Her grip tightened with every intention of causing Petra some amount of pain. "I won't be so easy on you next time."

Winter's attempt at intimidation caused Petra to crack a wry grin, as she held her own against Winter's handshake-turned-vice grip. "Is that so?" she asked in a cheery tone.

Amber blinked at the two girls when they both started to try breaking one anothers' hands. Winter smirked a wry smirk of her own, continuing her hold in an attempt to force Petra to back down from the small contest of strength.

Not getting a witty retort as she expected, Petra pulled the girl closer to her, still refusing to give in to the petty battle of who-can-out-shake-whom, and said in a low tone, just next to the girl's ear, "I'm holding my breath."

Winter narrowed her eyes, pulling Petra closer in exchange. "You're holding back, and it's starting to piss me off. Don't tell me you were performing at your best." Her grip tightened relentlessly.

"Erm," Amber chirped. "So curfew, right?"

[To Be Continued]

The above was edited by Dimmer Meerkat.

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