"Err, hello professor," Harry stammered nervously, finding it difficult to meet Professor McGonagall's omniscient gaze. He had left the common room a few minutes ago for his required meeting with the Head of House Gryffindor. "You wanted to speak with me?"
She shuffled parchment aimlessly in a tactic Harry was sure was meant to make him tense. Wearing a small, fake smile on his face, he waited patiently for her to finish. When she finally looked up, she appeared unimpressed by his façade. "I assume you know what this is about?" she said tersely as she leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, surveying him closely.
Harry felt beads of perspiration form on his forehead, and he was not sure why his Transfiguration professor was having this peculiar effect on him. He had never felt so uneasy in her presence before. "Professor McGonagall, this has all been a huge mistake. It was my idea." He laid his hands on her desk unconsciously and began to relate the entire excursion, sometimes exaggerating his role in an effort to land the blame more effectively on him.
Professor McGonagall nodded her head as he spoke, her eyes betraying nothing. Harry described Draco's taunts quickly, not wanting her to think that he was trying to draw other people in the punishment. Hey eyes widened slightly in faint surprise when Harry mentioned Snape's arrival and reprimands. Obviously, she did not think the Head of Slytherin would punish one of his own house members, either.
When he came to the part about his fleeting vision and Gates's brief interrogation, her mouth became very thin. Unless Harry was quite mistaken, she was steadily becoming more furious as he elaborated on Gates's involvement. The Hit Wizard, who was currently standing outside the door, was clearly not favored by her. Harry's explanation ended with Snape and Gates entering the kitchens. He had intentionally left out the part involving Gates's threats, his dire warning of what would result if Harry reported any of his excesses to the Order, the headmaster, or anyone still branded painfully on his brain.
Finished, Harry waited stiffly for her response, inwardly praying that the professor nullifies Hermione's punishment and transfers her wrath towards him. As he waited, he watched a thick, tattered tome crawl out from its nook in the bookshelf and lumber down the board to the other end, where it squeezed its way between two newer, more fashionable books. The line of books began to rumble angrily at this action, and soon the old tome skulked back to its old position at the opposite end. This time, however, it slammed itself backwards forcefully and caused a flower pot on the top shelf to slide to the edge, almost falling off completely.
At length, Professor McGonagall spoke. "Miss Granger told me a similar story, though she tended to emphasize her role in this atrocious example of rule-breaking. Two sixth years, one of them a prefect, wandering about after hours. This is a poor precedent to set."
Harry bowed his head, vocalizing an apology. Earnestly, he tried to explain to the professor that he was the one who caused the trouble, but she cut him off
"I'm already familiar with dealing with students who have incurable cases of altruism," she said, her mouth becoming visibly less thin. "This, I believe, is why I let you two off so easily. While Professor Snape punished you somewhat, he left the lion's share of the reprimand to me, the head of your house. That was unusually considerate of Severus." she added thoughtfully.
"So what is my punishment?"
Professor McGonagall's eyes flashed in the direction of the doorway then fell back to Harry. "I believe that, despite what you're telling me, Mr. Gates is filling up more than enough of your plate already. Professor Snape, myself, Professor Whams, and the headmaster have been observing your relationship with that man, and in this case, I do not think a punishment is necessary. I understand you have detentions with Professor Snape? That is more than adequate." Harry swore he saw her give him a tiny, almost imperceptible smile.
Harry was shocked. "But you took away Hermione's prefect status!"
"Yes, I did. She, however, is a prefect and is therefore obliged to have responsibility," she answered, "Though I do hope you won't be spreading this among your classmates." Professor McGonagall's voice became more stern. "I understand that Mr. Gates confiscated your broomstick?"
"Yeah he did," replied Harry, feeling guilty about receiving a lesser punishment than Hermione, "He took it during Quidditch."
The professor nodded curtly. "That's strictly against school policy. Only heads of house or the headmaster may suspend a student from Quidditch. Do not worry, Mr. Potter, you will have your broom back within the week."
"I already got it back," Harry said quickly, "Gates gave it back to me an hour ago. I think Percy talked him into it."
"Percy?" Professor McGonagall repeated, her expression reflecting puzzlement, "Percy Weasley? What did he say?" She leaned forward and her tone took on a concerned tone. "Does he know what he's getting into? You don't idly meddle into Alexander Gates's affairs."
Harry's thoughts suddenly went out to Percy, who, he realized, was taking a great risk by influencing Gates on his behalf. "I don't know. He wouldn't say."
Professor McGonagall sighed. "I hope whatever he is doing, it isn't reckless. Our forgiveness won't matter if he's gone."
"Professor?" Harry began tentatively, "What's going to happen with Professor Snape and Gates?"
Her face clouded over, and Harry could tell that she was severely disgruntled with the duel. "Those two will have to sort it out for themselves. Tradition dictates that it gets done tonight at nine o'clock with the entire school watching. Like it's some sort of show." Her eyes narrowed. "I'm disappointed in their behavior; Severus most of all. I should not be saying this to a student, but I never expected that he could be so juvenile."
"It didn't look like Professor Snape had much of a choice. Gates was really going at him…" Harry's voice trailed off as he remembered the heated taunts that were traded in the eternally frozen dungeons.
"What happened?" Professor McGonagall asked, placing her elbows on her desk and looking at him intently. The fingers on her hands were spread out across the polished wooden top. "I have only heard brief sections of the account while passing some portraits. Severus himself refuses to discuss it, despite the staffs' demands…" she added almost to herself.
"Gates used Professor Snape's old, erm, nickname, then brought up his history as a Death Eater, then threatened to reveal Snape's - I mean Professor Snape's - most personal secret to me."
Professor McGonagall's expression hardened. "I expected as much."
"Gates told the class that Professor Snape was a Death Eater," Harry said, "Isn't that going to ruin his position as a spy?"
"Severus is not that type of spy," the professor said simply.
Harry wet his lips. "What do you mean? Isn't he working for both Voldemort and Dumbledore?"
Professor McGonagall closed her eyes, then opened them. "Severus's contributions to our cause are very important, and, I might add, very secret. This, Mr. Potter, is strictly between Dumbledore and Severus."
"Do you know what Professor Snape's secret is?" Harry questioned slowly, watching her eyes.
"No," she answered crisply, "Whatever it is, only Headmaster Dumbledore and Severus would know about it." She frowned. "Though it wouldn't explain how Mr. Gates knows, does it?"
"Gates implied that my dad was somehow involved."
Harry saw a flicker of understanding cross the professor's face before it was quickly masked. "No, I'm afraid I don't know."
Feeling slightly annoyed at having things hidden from him, Harry nearly gave a retort. As abruptly as it surfaced, it vanished when he realized that, whatever the secret was, it was none of his business. Instead, he resigned himself to staring absently at the shaking bookcase, which now had several large books moving from their position in the row. Suddenly, one tome, apparently annoyed at all the commotion, jutted itself outward, effectively stopping the other books from moving along the shelf. Soon the entire bookcase was engulfed in a raucous fight of bickering hardbacks. Professor McGonagall, becoming irritated with the noise, knocked loudly on the side of the bookcase and the tomes ceased the brawl and sullenly returned to their original niches.
"I better go, then," said Harry awkwardly, "I have to serve my detention with Professor Snape at six o'clock."
"Of course," Professor McGonagall said briskly, "But Mr. Potter, do know that we are keeping an eye on you throughout this school year through the portraits, so try to stay within the viewing of one." She waved her hand in the direction of a large, ornate painting of an old cottage hanging on the adjacent side of her office, and, sure enough, Phineas Nigellus was standing lazily within the frame, leaning against a tree with a bored expression on his face. His shocking green and silver robes looked very much out of place in the tranquil setting. Fleetingly, he wondered whether Phineas had seen Gates threaten Harry's family photo album. Then he remembered that there were no school portraits in the sleeping quarters.
Harry swallowed a groan. He had hoped that tonight's Occlumency lessons would have been canceled in light of the duel. Understanding that the meeting was now over, Harry stood up to leave.
"Take a biscuit before you go." Professor McGonagall offered, extending the silver tin towards him and shoving it practically right under his nose.
"Thanks," Harry mumbled, knowing that it was futile to refuse.
As he left, he heard his Transfiguration Professor raise her voice loudly as she scolded the bookcase that had resumed scuffling as soon as Harry passed through the doorway. He heard something heavy slam into the ground in her office as he closed the door.
Harry descended into the darkness of the dungeons, Gates walking smoothly behind him. The subliminal malice that lurked in the stone corridors stung at his nostrils and throat, making him cough. The unwashed walls and floors that led to Snape's office were caked with grime and mildew, giving Harry at least some idea as to why the Potions master was perpetually vindictive. Long hours of working and teaching in these halls would be enough to put a rise to anyone's temper.
Reflecting on the end of his Potions class today, Harry decided that he had been rather rash. It was probably unwise to provoke Snape when he had Occlumency lessons later that same day. Unfortunately, he did not possess any foresight at the time, as his mind was being bombarded by images of Snape's trespasses against Sirius. His outrage, if anything, would only serve to make Occlumency worse than usual, as he was sure Snape would make him suffer for his remarks.
After several minutes of traipsing through the dark corridors, Harry finally stood outside the high, ornately carved door that seemed completely out of place in the dank dungeons. There were several long, detailed serpents cut into the door, signifying the entrance to the Head of House Slytherin's office. Inhaling, Harry knocked twice, the sound echoing down through the hallway.
At length, a voice spoke. "Enter."
Harry pulled the sturdy door open and stepped inside, closing it behind him and leaving Gates outside. He turned to see Snape placing the last of his silvery thoughts into a wide bowl with runes chiseled into its side; a pensieve. Wordlessly, Snape lifted the bowl up and set it in the cupboard, this time locking it closed.
Snape's office had not changed much since Harry was in it last. There were still long shelves stocked with small, glass jars with various dead creatures suspended in a vile green liquid. On the far end, there was an assortment of clear containers holding masses of dead cockroaches, beetles, and centipedes. The entire office was bathed in an eerie glow from a single, hovering ball that was attached the center of the ceiling. Despite the globe, the room was dimly lit and especially dark in the corners, where small insects scurried and scampered.
Set on Snape's desk, precariously overhanging the side, was a large, deep red leather-bound book entitled Confessions of a Dark Wizard: The Pravus Necklace in peeling gold letters along the spine. The word 'necklace' stood out from the rest of the title in his mind. Harry had an eerie feeling that the book contained some insight concerning Gates's enchanted diamond necklace. Curiously, it was just within arms reach of him. At this range, he could probably steal it without Snape noticing, as the Potions master was still fiddling with the lock on the cupboard. However, he refrained from any such attempt.
The lock clicked, and Snape turned to Harry and stared, as if daring him to mention the duel; daring him to gloat or throw insults.
A voice like Hermione spoke in his head. Don't do it. That's exactly what he wants. He wants you to be James; don't aid the delusion.
"Ah, Potter," drawled Snape, slightly unnerved by Harry's silence, "It seems that once again third parties have managed to excuse you from your own failures."
"If you say so."
Snape sneered. "Since I doubt you have practiced Occlumency since we last met, we will start with the basics again. Am I correct with my assumption?"
The lesson was going exactly as Harry had expected so far. "I practiced a little. I'm not getting full dreams anymore."
"We shall see. Your Occlumency will be more important than ever now." said Snape smoothly.
"Why's that?"
"You will address me as 'sir', Potter," Snape warned, his eyes glittering, "Occlumency will be vital to you this year as Alex is modestly skilled at Legilimency, and you are not yet proficient enough to resist anyone's intrusion. Just today, Alex broke into your mind."
"What?" Harry asked, startled, "When did he?"
Snape sighed, then said contemptuously "He did after Potions, Potter. He made eye contact with you and it was apparent to everyone, except to you, obviously, that he probed your mind. Tell me, what were you thinking about when I called you back after class?"
"I remembered you taunting Sirius," Harry muttered, looking at the ground to avoid Snape's inevitable grin.
Snape smirked. "Yes, I thought so. When Alex entered your mind, he subtly revived old memories. I imagine your mind flashed with visions and pictures of that event?"
Harry nodded.
"Then he was tampering with your thoughts, Potter. And I can only begin to visualize what else he has seen or suggested you do over the course of this school year. As I said before, you have knowledge of the Order that you should not have," said Snape, eyes narrowing, "And if Alex uncovers some of that information, it could be devastating if he leaks it to spite the Order. The man is irrational, Potter." He wetted his lips with his tongue.
"Like he might leak the Prophecy." Harry muttered under his breath.
Snape raised his thin eyebrows. "There should be little fear of that, Potter, as only Professor Dumbledore is aware of its contents," His face wrinkled with contempt. "Unless he informed you of it. Reckless decision on his part. Now you're an even greater liability, Potter."
"I s'ppose its your duty to make me less of one, sir." Harry said evenly.
Snape ignored him. "When did you first meet Alex?"
"The beginning of August, sir."
"And you never wondered why Alex came a month earlier than he had to?" Snape spat, his eyes glinting in the dim light, "Your idiocy confounds me," He paused to breath. "He came early so that he could intrude upon your mind and learn its tendencies."
Harry regarded him evenly. "What can I do about that now?"
"The damage is done there, so there is nothing that you can do," Snape said coldly, "What do you see in your dreams that you do have?" He turned away and began examining a toad suspended in one of his glass jars.
"Just flashes of a face." Harry said flatly.
"What face?"
"Antonin Dolohov."
"Then it seems that the Dark Lord's thoughts are concentrating on him for some reason," Snape muttered to himself.
"How very perceptive of you," said Harry acidly.
Snape whirled around, his expression reflecting utmost anger. "One…two…" Snape began darkly, drawing his wand without warning, "Legilimens!"
Harry had no chance to clear his mind before horrible visions scrolled before his eyes. His wrist was bleeding as he wrote lines for Umbridge…He saw Cedric Diggory die next to him…He was taking his History of Magic O.W.L. when he envisioned Sirius being tortured…Sirius fell through the veil…
"Get…out!" Harry shouted, falling to his knees. The images of Sirius threatened to overwhelm his brain. Even now, it saturated his thoughts. He did not realize that he had managed to push Snape out of his thoughts without the use of a hex or spell.
"Pathetic, Potter," Snape said disdainfully, "Get up. That's all the Dark Lord would need to control you. I said get up!" He bent over and physically forced Harry to his feet. Harry stared back at him, hating every part of Snape's pitiless face. "I thought you practiced, Potter."
"I did," Harry argued, "You just started without-"
"You expect the Dark Lord to give you a warning before he breaches your mind?" spat Snape, "You expect Alex to? I will not have you wasting my time, Potter." He held his black wand at both ends and began to bend it up and down like a sapling.
"Why did Professor Dumbledore put me back with you?" Harry said in a low voice, "He told me it was a mistake last year. Why did he do it?"
"Don't concern yourself with the headmaster's decisions." Snape snapped. "Now let's try again, shall we? Do try to put up more resistance, Potter," He closed his eyes and raised his wand. "One…two…Legilimens!"
This time, Harry was prepared. Instead of the normal, traumatic images, he now pictured milder events. The Dursley's had forgotten his birthday…He was left, confused, as to how to get on platform nine and three quarters…He snuck out of bed to meet Malfoy for a duel in the library…Gates stalked him through Diagon Alley…
Snape's office abruptly came into view, and he saw the Potions master rubbing his left arm. Evidently, Harry had produced a Stinging Hex to stave off the mind probe. This time, Harry managed to stay on his unwieldy legs and was now waiting for Snape to speak.
"Better. But it could have hardly gotten worse," said Snape sleekly, "If I was to delve into your mind for much longer, I would have found a more powerful memory to use against you. Your resistance was crumbling, Potter."
"But I still forced you out of my mind." Harry rubbed his head, his skull vibrating from Snape's intrusion.
"Only after using a spell," retorted Snape, "And you won't be able to use a spell on the Dark Lord to break the connection." He flexed his wand as his eyes glittered mockingly.
Does he have to tear down every victory I have? "You're-," Harry stammered, his freshly tilled thoughts swirling in his brain. Suddenly, he locked onto one.
"I'm what Potter?" Snape said dangerously, twirling his wand.
The ache in his head combined with his irritation to eclipse the remnants of his restraint. "You're a hypocrite, Snape." Harry said in a low voice, deliberately omitting the Potion master's title.
A low growl escaped Snape. "I'm a hypocrite, am I?" said Snape slowly, "How am I a hypocrite, Potter?" Snape stopped twirling his wand and held it stiffly in his fist.
"I heard what you said to my mom," Harry snapped, his chest heaving, "You punish Slytherins for using the word 'mudblood' and nothing else. Meanwhile, you used it on my mom. I heard what you said you arrogant-" Harry caught himself before he said something that would land him in severe trouble.
Snape looked taken aback. He seemed very aware of what Harry had said or left unsaid. "Things change, Potter," he said in a threateningly low voice.
"You don't," Harry shot back. "You're still the same, slimy-"
Snape eyed him intensely, daring Harry to continue. "Just like a Potter. Always starts but never finishes. Has an ego that is expanded like a balloon, insufferable arrogance, and an immunity to criticism. James-" Snape spat the name. "-possessed the most overbearing ego I have ever encountered; surpassing that of most Death Eaters. I daresay his friends all shared similar traits."
Something within Harry burst and a torrent of words flowed out of him. "YES BUT THEY'RE DEAD!" Harry roared, fists clenched and eyes burning. "HAVEN'T YOU REALIZED THAT YET, SIR?" He spat the last word with every ounce of venom he could muster, and he stood like rock, glaring straight back at Snape.
All of the color drained from Snape's face, and it appeared like he was having a difficult time restraining himself from grabbing Harry and shaking him violently. "You will not raise your voice in this room, Potter," Snape warned through gritted teeth, the volume of his voice raising sharply, "There will-"
Suddenly, the office door swung open and slammed heavily into the stone wall, causing a glass jaw to vibrate and fall onto the floor, shattering and spilling slime across the dirty floor. Gates stood silhouetted in the doorway.
"What is this about?" Gates demanded, eyes flinty. "I don't remember Occlumency sessions that included the student screaming out loud." His gaze locked onto Harry, who was glaring at Snape hatefully.
"This is about nothing," Snape said contemptuously, "Potter is merely having difficulties suppressing his emotions. Get out of my office."
"It is my duty to see that he is not harmed, Severus, and I am aware of that vicious temper you keep," said Gates slowly in a deadly, quiet voice, "I advise you to keep the screams to a minimum."
"Get out of my office." Snape repeated forcefully.
Gates scanned the room quickly and then said "I will see you at the great hall tonight. Don't overexert yourself, Severus. I expect you to give me some sport." He shut the door loudly as he swept out of the office.
Snape whirled on Harry, his eyes flashing with malevolence.
"Don't you dare," said Harry warningly, "Don't you dare blame Sirius for him. I gave you fair warning of what Gates was going to do, and you spat in my face. So you don't have any right to say anything."
Snape's expression became stony and unreadable. Harry noticed from the corner of his eye that the luminescent green slime from the broken jar was now creeping towards his feet. He carefully stepped away and allowed the liquid to spread across the floor, a thin steam hissing from it as it went. Snape, just appearing to see it, waved his wand and muttered "Evanesco". The slime vanished.
"Your arrogant godfather got himself killed," said Snape softly, enunciating his words, "I did not murder him."
"You didn't have to, sir," Harry replied, gripping his wand tightly in his robes so his hand would stop shaking with rage, "You drew him out. You didn't have to be the one with the wand in order to kill someone. Surely someone in your profession would understand that. The value of discretion and the value of not being the one who holds the wand."
Snape darkened. "I am an Order member first, Potter. I don't let emotion cloud my judgment." he finished dangerously.
"Funny, you're an Order member are you?" Harry said with feigned surprise, "When Moody showed me the picture of all the original Order members last year, you weren't on it. Tell me, sir, where were you?"
Harry was satisfied to see Snape tilt his head ever-so-slightly. It was a strangely appraising look. Or was it annoyance? "I was otherwise occupied."
"Were you? What lie did you have to tell Dumbledore in order for him to think that you changed your ways, Professor?"
There was no question now; Snape was furious. "I swore an oath, Potter, on something stronger than anything you could ever begin to understand or comprehend. That oath, Potter, is not a lie. The headmaster trusts me implicitly for good reason, even if he doesn't share the reason with you." He smirked slightly as he said this, savoring the taste that he received when he treated Harry condescendingly.
"And what was it, sir?"
"None of your business," Snape said shortly, "Enough," He raised his wand. "One…two…Legilimens!"
Harry's riled emotions prevented him from erecting any sort of defense to Snape's mental intrusion. Before he could effectively react, he found himself spinning down an thick spiral of memories and nightmares. Unable to fend Snape off, Harry resisted feebly as his most personal thoughts were examined.
"Clear your mind, Potter," Snape muttered.
Gates threw him into a locked room at The Leaky Cauldron…Umbridge banned him from Quidditch…He encountered Voldemort in the graveyard and witnessed his return…Voldemort possessed his body in the Ministry of Magic…Hermione was lying behind him, presumably dead…Sirius fell through the veil, a surprised look in his eyes.
"GET OUT!" Harry bellowed, firing a random curse. It hit the wall and a small chunk of rock exploded.
"PATHETIC, POTTER!" Snape roared, "You are getting worse, not better. You expect to make it through this year without the Dark Lord possessing your mind? You can't. That was the worst attempt I've seen yet!"
"Shut up!" Harry shouted back, "Just shut up!" He heard a snort of laughter from outside the door.
"Potter, do you think the Dark Lord will hesitate for a moment? No memory will be sacrosanct," Snape snapped, "And Alex will break into your mind with ridiculous ease. Do you know how much depends on your ability to perform Occlumency Potter? Do you think I would be wasting my time doing this if it wasn't vital?" Snape drew himself up to his full height, his wand clenched tightly in his fist and his eyes blacker than ever.
Harry glared up at him. "I know, damn it! What are you supposed to be teaching? All you're doing is breaching my mind and expecting me to figure it out by myself."
Snape regarded him with undisguised contempt and disgust. "Utterly worthless. This has been a complete waste of my time and yours. Nothing new can be accomplished tonight. This lesson is finished."
Harry brushed off his robes and moved towards the door, eager to leave Snape's office and get back to the common room. The past hour had been a living hell. Nothing had changed, he thought, Snape was the same old git who refused to see the difference between the son and the father.
"Potter, where do you think you're going?" Snape asked softly, his dark eyes glistening.
Harry stopped. "Back to the common room. Isn't the lesson concluded?"
"Potter," Snape said, virulence lacing his voice. He set his slim wand carefully upon his desk. "This is a detention, remember? You still have a detention to serve." He gestured to a long shelf of empty but filthy rows of glass jars. "I want all these cleaned without magic. Use this bucket, water, and rag." He pointed towards the far corner where the required equipment was lain out. "You can start now." He sneered broadly.
Hating Snape, Harry turned to the countless jars and picked up the rag. The glass was smeared with gritty slime, blood, and tiny pieces of insects, and everything reeked of death. He tiredly began scrubbing the grimy jars as Snape watched on.
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"How did it go?" Hermione asked quietly, sitting across from him in the great hall. Harry had just returned from Snape's detention, and he was exhausted. Cleaning the glass jars out had been arduous work, especially when Snape seemed to have and endless supply of them in his office and storerooms. Harry strongly suspected that the Potions master had been saving up a massive collection of filthy jars just so he could have Harry clean them all out during one of his numerous detentions.
In addition, Snape's continual probing into his mind had left his head aching. While last year's Occlumency lessons were intense enough, the incidents in the Department of Mysteries had given Snape a whole new set of memories to feed upon, unscrupulously examining them and bringing them to surface in his mind. The session itself was painful, and he did not like Snape compounding it by his constant flow of insults and taunts.
"It went as well as I expected it would," Harry replied evasively. He found himself becoming increasingly interested in examining the circular architecture of the common room.
The common room was buzzing with excitement over the impending duel between Snape and Gates. Students chatted in hurried conversations in every corner of the room, each arguing and taunting and betting on who would be the victor. All of them seemed oblivious to the fact that this would be a real wizards duel, and that real injuries would occur. The pure bloods were especially popular right now, as they were relating stories and tales of duels they saw, and were often explaining the more intricate rules of professional dueling and the usual customs that wizards followed before the fight.
Hermione surveyed him concernedly, her face etched with sympathy. "I don't know how anything your dad did could justify what he's doing to you." Harry was relieved that Hermione had picked up on the hint that he did not want to discuss his Occlumency lesson further, and had moved on with the conversation.
Harry distantly remembered his father's words as to why he hexed Snape. "Its more because he exists," he had said, "If you know what I mean." Whatever his father said, Harry knew that there was more to the story than a simple Gryffindor versus Slytherin rivalry. Someday, Harry promised himself, he would find out what caused the feud, one way or another.
"Who knows," said Harry, "It could be anything. One thing is for sure: Snape's not going to tell me. Willingly." Harry added under his breath. Catching the time, he realized it was eight thirty. "So I take it that the duel is set for nine?"
"That's tradition," Hermione answered. She began searching the room with her eyes for the tall redhead whose pure blood ancestry gave him superior knowledge of dueling customs. "Where is Ron, anyway?"
"I'm right here," said Ron loudly in her ear. She nearly jumped out of her seat. "I was just coming over to see Harry."
"Prat," Hermione muttered, staring daggers at Ron.
Ron laughed. "I don't see how you can be in a bad mood this evening. To think that Snape will finally get his crooked nose shoved into the ground, and we'll all be able to see it." He paused thoughtfully, as if not quite believing his own words. "Only a half hour away. Wonderful evening, isn't it?"
An introspective silence fell over the room, and was abruptly ended when Seamus and Dean, smiling from ear to ear, walked up with a rather large tin can that jingled with a large amount of coins.
"Hey mates," Seamus said, a strange light in his eyes, "Anyone care to place a bet?"
Ron's interest immediately peaked. "How much and on who?"
Seamus nodded knowingly to Dean, then continued. "Well, all you need to do is contribute one sickle, and you can place one bet. You can either say Snape will lose in under a minute, Snape will lose between one and two minutes, Snape will lose in two to three minutes, or that it will take longer than three minutes for Snape to lose. The winnings will be spread equally among the winners."
"Nothing for Snape winning?" Harry asked.
"No one wants to put money on that slimy git," Dean said, laughing, "Really, who would? It has already been determined by the higher powers-" Dean gestured vaguely to Lavender and Parvati Patil, who were currently reading tea leaves in the corner of the common room. "-that Snape will lose. The only thing the fates are unsure of, apparently, is how long it will take."
"I will put a sickle on Snape pulling something sneaky," declared a fifth year Harry knew only as Ian, "He wasn't in Slytherin for nothing, you know. If Snape doesn't turn Gates to stone with that sneer of his, he will sneak in a potion that will reduce Gates into a pile of bones."
They all laughed heartily as Ian threw a single sickle into the tin and walked away. Seamus pulled out a piece of parchment out from his robes and scribbled something on it, then put it away. Presently, he turned back to Ron.
"So how about it?" Seamus said, shaking the can temptingly, "Are you in or are you out?" He waved it under Hermione's and Harry's noses, but with little effect.
"I'm in," Ron said quickly, fumbling with the pockets of his robes, "I'm putting a sickle on Snape lasting more than three minutes." He tossed the coin into the can, and it joined its brethren with a sharp clink.
"Good man," said Dean, "That's the time I placed my bet on, too. We're in for a fair share of sickles if we win." He winked at Ron, who was currently grinning with anticipation. The tin can shone brightly from the flickering flames in the common room fireplace.
"Harry?" Seamus offered, extending the can towards him.
Harry shook his head. "No thanks."
"Hermione?"
"Me neither."
"Suit yourselves." Dean and Seamus shrugged and walked away, undoubtedly going to try to convince others to join in on the bet. When they were a good distance away, Hermione rounded fully on Ron.
"You shouldn't be betting money when you need it for ink and parchment," Hermione snapped, "What would your mother say?"
"She wouldn't say anything," Ron retorted, "Because she wouldn't know. I can spend my money as I wish, and if I win a large slice of that pot of sickles, I could have it made for the rest of the year. Its a small risk."
Hermione looked ready to explode. "That's not your money, its your mother's! And she gave it to you so you would have money for school supplies, not gambling! Which, I might add, is strictly against the rules."
"Oh no you don't. We aren't going to give Seamus and Dean detentions or something for doing a little gambling. You need to loosen up a little."
"Loosen up?" Hermione said shrilly, "You are a prefect. You're supposed to reinforce school rules, Ron, not undermine them. You even took part in it, for Merlin's sake. That's- that's- conflict of interest! Dereliction of duty!"
Harry watched with growing alarm his two friends argue, and frankly, he was not about to get involved. Siding with Hermione would lead to Ron feeling utterly betrayed, which, in his condition, would be a very bad thing. Siding with Ron would make Hermione feel isolated, and he did not want her to feel that way. He took a step back, unsure of what to do.
"You're a fine one to talk! You broke school rules when you went down to the kitchens after-hours for spew!" Ron argued.
"That was for a worthy cause!" countered Hermione. "Gambling is restricted for a reason, Ron!"
Ron shook his head vehemently. "Then why don't you go shut them down, Hermione? You are always the one to do stuff like that."
"Because I'm suspended from my prefect duties, Ron," hissed Hermione, "Professor McGonagall took away my prefect status for a week. That leaves you!" She darted his eyes to Harry, softening them briefly, appealing for support. Harry, thinking that he knew better, said nothing. He regretted it an instant later.
"Took away prefect duties?" Ron scoffed, "Sounds more like a vacation to me."
Harry could see that this remark had hit home on Hermione, and he needed to intervene soon before something drastic occurred.
Hermione gaped at him. "Some of us might not care about prefect duties, but I do!" She stomped hotly away, leaving Harry feeling like a tidal wave had just washed over him. He was about to follow her, but she had already retreated into the girls' dormitories.
"Sometimes," Ron muttered, "Sometimes she really gets to me, you know? Doesn't she get it?"
"Yeah," Harry replied noncommittally, though he personally felt that Ron did not have a clue. He wanted to express his displeasure in more derogatory terms, but at length decided against it.
Harry turned to see Gates standing nonchalantly against the wall, his eyes piercing nothing. Harry's gaze fell to the vain diamond necklace, and a part of his mind prickled. He wondered for the hundredth time where Gates had received that necklace, and what its purpose was. His instinct told him that it could only be evil, but his logic was not so sure. He remembered Hermione telling him to talk to Dumbledore, and, since it seemed that they would be learning nothing new out of the books from the library, he decided that he would speak the headmaster tomorrow. Even Gates could not object to that. His mind fleetingly wondered whether he should have taken the book out of Snape's office after all.
Why do you wear those diamonds, you bastard?
To his surprise, Gates's head jerked up and his eyes blinked. As if just wakening from a deep sleep, Gates shook his head and strode over to Harry, gazing around him disdainfully as he went. Standing in front of Harry, he briefly scanned Ron's figure with an expression of contempt on his face. Obviously, he found Ron's second-hand robes insulting. He snorted and shifted his eyes back to Harry.
"Are you ready, Potter?" he asked carelessly.
"Ready for what? You're the one that's going to be dueling."
Gates drew his wand and carefully examined it as he spoke. "Custom dictates that the participants in the duel arrive relatively early. As I have no plans to abandon you during this time period, you must accompany me to the duel. So if I must arrive early, so must you."
"Right," said Harry. Turning to Ron, he continued "I'll meet you and Hermione in the back row of seats."
"Right mate," Ron said, dislike written in his eyes as he stared at Gates.
"Come," Gates commanded as he put his wand away, evidently satisfied with its condition.
He led Harry to the portrait hole and they both clambered through, the fat lady eyeing the Hit Wizard with extreme distrust. In the background, Harry saw the green and silver form of Phineas Nigellus, who watched him with an apathetic expression.
"Hello Phineas," Harry muttered. His only response was a hoarse cough coming from the painting.
As they traipsed through the long and empty corridors of the castle, Harry sensed that the entire castle was tense with apprehension; like a swimmer taking a deep breath before the plunge. The portraits were mostly empty, as the occupants were likely gathering in the few paintings located within the great hall, waiting for the duel to begin. Behind him, Phineas moved confidently through the portraits, trying to keep a distance between himself and Harry. It seemed that Phineas was trying to be discrete, and was going at great lengths to keep Gates from noticing his presence.
For this first time ever, Harry felt that the castle was rather dry. He let his hand graze the stone walls, and found that there was no trace of moisture. He sniffed the air and sneezed when he inhaled a large quantity of dust. The air was heavy with something that stunk of copper, and it was as though the passageways were protesting the imminent duel as irresponsible. The ancient oak floor creaked and groaned as Gates stepped on it, the heel of his boots biting in the ground with a sharp click. Dumbledore always hinted that the castle itself was actually alive, but Harry had never thought so until now. There was no question that the Hogwarts castle severely disagreed with Gates's presence; the subtle protest becoming more obvious with every step. Gates, though, appeared oblivious to the remonstrance.
When Harry entered the great hall, he was surprised to see that it was completely reorganized. The four house tables were removed, and there was a small, elevated circular platform in their place. In front of the platform, lined in small arches, were many rows of seats, which were clearly intended to seat the entire castle population. Hanging in the back behind the last row of chairs were three massive portraits, and within them was gathered what appeared to be every person from every portrait in the castle. They had set out their own rows of seats, which were probably collected from various paintings. Aloof from everything was the staff table, which had a solemn, ominous atmosphere surrounding it as though it was about to witness a funeral. Harry looked up and saw, with a vague sense of dread, that the ceiling reflected a cold, black, moonless evening.
Standing isolated from the rest of the staff, Harry saw Snape waiting by the circular platform. His eyes glittered strangely, and his robes were unusually long and stiff. His wand was casually tucked into his side pocket, a dangerous aura radiating from it because of its obviousness. Harry had never seen the Potions master so terrifyingly detached; those tunnel-like eyes threatening to suck him in.
Grinning, Gates said, "Find yourself a seat, Potter." He then left and stood on the opposite side of the platform, his necklace sparkling from the torch light.
Harry sat down at the very back, just below the middle portrait. Behind him, he noticed Phineas Nigellus take a seat in the very front of the painting, his eyes darting from Harry to the platform erratically. Sighing, Harry resigned himself to staring idly at the great hall ceiling while students and professors slowly began to filter in.
At length, Ron and Hermione came in, carefully sitting on either side of Harry. The tension was not lost on him, and he sighed. Could they go for a week - even a day - without having a row?
"So I meant to ask you," Ron began somewhat awkwardly, "Did Dumbledore ever talk to Gates?" Harry saw Hermione stiffen with attentiveness instantly.
"Yeah, they exchanged a few words. Dumbledore is going to get Fudge to repossess Gates's manor and auction it off, and Gates also had to write Neville a letter of apology. Turned out to be kind of a joke." Harry said irritably.
"Auction off his manor?" said Ron, his eyes widening, "That's clever. Dumbledore has some real style, doesn't he?"
Harry turned to Ron and viewed him disbelievingly. "Ron, Gates doesn't even live there. That's the whole cover for the repossession. Gates hasn't been paying the ministry for ownership, so they're taking it back."
"Nobody pays the ministry for their manors," Ron said, smiling knowingly, "It's one of those laws no one pays attention to. Ministry officials stopped trying to enforce it when the families began to place gargoyles and security trolls around their property to ward off visitors. He really gave Gates a backhand to the face."
"He doesn't live there..." Harry repeated.
"So?" Ron continued, "That's a family manor. Being the one to lose a family manor practically banishes you from the pure blood family line. Its a matter of honor to keep the property, not a matter of wealth. If they're taking it away, it's a huge personal insult. Gates would be rightly furious. And with Gates and his fanatic sense of honor..." Ron whistled softly.
The first few rows of seats were already packed with chatting students. Most of the professors were huddling around the staff table in an informal meeting, casting disapproving glances towards Gates and Snape. Dumbledore sat alone at the center of the table, fingers steepled and eyes forward, apparently deep in thought. Professor Whams and Percy were standing at one end, absorbed in conversation. Whams's glasses continually slipped down his nose and were pushed up again by his forefinger as his magnified eyes stared over Percy's shoulder and fell onto Snape's side.
Though Harry could not read any of the teacher's expressions, he knew they were all thinking the same thing: Professor Snape is setting a poor example for the students in this school. Dueling over petty insults. Really!
"Can't be much longer now, huh?" Ron said as he shifted in his chair to get a better view of the platform. Casually, Luna drifted over and took a seat next to Ron, blinking at him expectantly. Ron's ears reddened and he tried valiantly to appear occupied.
"Would you like to sit together Ronald??" Luna said dreamily as she floated next to him. Ron stiffened with surprise.
Ron's ears reddened deeply. "Well I-" He stumbled over words, quite thrown off by Luna's sudden appearance. "-I, err, was actually going to, ummm." His eyes appealed to Harry and Hermione for help.
"Sure you can sit with us tonight, Luna," Hermione replied, grinning mischievously, "There are plenty of seats in the great hall, after all."
Ron appeared betrayed. "But, I gave something to discuss with you two tonight."
"We don't have to leave, Ronald." said Luna, moving towards Ron and placing her hand gently on his forearm.
He looked absolutely petrified of the possibility of sitting next to Luna throughout the entire duel. "I, uhh, suppose," he stammered, "If you two don't mind, of course."
"Not at all."
Ron's face glowed crimson. "Err, are you going to place any bets tonight Luna?"
"No," Luna said dreamily, "I am not going to be too interested in the duel, Ronald." Ron's ears darkened even more.
A moment later, the professors took their seats and Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat. Immediately, the great hall fell silent and all eyes turned towards the headmaster, who smiled gently. Harry noticed, however, that there was no twinkle behind his half moon spectacles. When the murmur grew silent, Dumbledore began.
"Young students at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, his voice resonating throughout the hall, "Tonight you will witness a formal duel between two talented wizards. I warn you, however, that this is a professional duel and consensual. This does not mean that dueling is an acceptable practice within Hogwarts. Both participants are experienced and capable of making such decisions for themselves. In addition, this duel will be taking place within a closed area, where there is no possibility for anyone outside of the duel to become harmed. I stress that there is no such protection in school hallways, and if two students were to duel, they will be dealt with as harshly as possible. With that said, we may now begin."
Dumbledore now began something that sounded like it came off of a script. "Severus Conrad Snape, Alexander Black Vladimir Gates, you may take the arena. As this is a non-mortal duel, all illegal curses or hexes and memory charms are hereby banned from this conflict. This includes in particular the possession curse. Use of muggle devices and artifacts of invisibility is prohibited. The right to substitutes has been waived as determined by the duelers."
Stepping upon the circular elevation, Snape and Gates glared at each other from across the platform, their wands at their sides, each eager to begin. Snape's eyes burned into Gates's scarlet robes, while Alexander's gaze pierced into Snape's face. The two men were practically frothing, and though no words were yet shared between them, there was no mistaking the mutual hate. Gates's bald head shined in the dim light as it moved up and down, his eyes scanning his opponent. Snape's lip curled and he appeared ready for war.
If looks could kill, Harry thought.
"And now, the Shielding Charm shall protect the outsiders." Dumbledore said, his words coming off of a script. He raised his wand and was about to speak the necessary charm when Gates interrupted him. Harry did not have to know common dueling customs to know that this was a deviation from procedure.
"Allow me, Albus," Gates called out, "Tectum!"
A flash of a thin, liquid light erupted out of the end of his wand and flew up into the air, stopping some six meters and spreading out and falling around the edge of the circular platform, creating a transparent blue dome. It shimmered and glowed as blobs of liquid flowed over the shield, sometimes breaking off into separate shapes. Though Harry was unfamiliar with the charm, he had a innate feeling that the blue dome was impenetrable, and that nothing could pass through it save sound and light. He heard Hermione gasp, and he knew instantly that he just saw an example of very advanced magic being performed.
"I bow to your courtesy," Dumbledore said, tilting his torso slightly forward. He returned to his seat, his flowing silver beard coming to rest onto his lap.
The two wizards within the dome stood in silence for each other, sizing each other up and taking long, deep breaths as though preparing for a dive. The look of pure determination on Snape's face told Harry that the Potions master would not go down easily, and that his skill was vastly underestimated. Gates, however, appeared as haughty and arrogant as ever, and a small smirk tugged at his lips as he waited.
"May your wand betray you." Snape announced, bowing, and sounding like he was reciting from a script.
"And may yours as well." Gates replied. He gave a short bow in return. His eyes frosted over with black ice.
No more than a few seconds passed when Dumbledore rose again from his seat. "Let the duel commence!" he said in a forcefully loud voice, his tone suggesting that this too was part of tradition.
Despite his distance away from the stage, Harry still possessed an excellent view of the duel. Gates and Snape circled each other, eyes focused and brows furrowed in concentration. Each held their wands tightly in their right hands while their left hung casually down their side, allowing for the possibility of a physical confrontation to exist. If either wizard would draw too close to the other, the cleverer of the two would swing his fist out for a punch and therefore throw the other one off balance. Using muggle tactics in dueling was not uncommon, but was actually recommended. At least, that is what Harry had read in The Art of Dueling.
Snape was the first to attack. "Stupefy!" he roared, sending a large flash of energy towards Gates, who easily disarmed it with his Aegis Shield spell.
"I'm of a higher caliber, Severus," Gates taunted loudly, "Don't expect to succeed using petty fifth year spellwork."
Snape glowered and sent a flurry of stinging hexes, appendage curses, and even a few spells Harry did not even recognize. Numerous flashes of red and green light ensued, and Gates swung his wand backwards and forwards with lightning speed, his face hardening with every spell he blocked. Snape's tactic was clear, however. He was trying to overwhelm Gates's shielding spell by flooding it with sheer numbers rather than attempting to produce a single, powerful curse to break through the defense. Unfortunately for Snape, he had underestimated Gates's speed, and for a moment, his concentration faltered. He looked confused, even afraid. Harry shot a glance towards Dumbledore and was unnerved to see that the headmaster wore a disturbed expression on his face.
"Come on, Severus," called Gates, "That can't be everything."
"Reducto!" Snape shouted, aiming his wand at Gates's feet. Alexander, expecting the spell to be targeted at him, waved his wand in a backward swipe motion, performing the Aegis Shield. Snape's curse, however, connected with the platform just in front of Gates's feet, causing a large chunk of rock to explode and sending Gates wavering on his heels.
Snape performed another stunning spell, hoping to catch Gates in his momentary weakness. "Stupefy!"
Gates moved with surprising agility for a man his size and swung out of the way of the oncoming curse, effectively dodging it as it flew past him and connected with the transparent blue barrier. The dome shivered from the impact and small, whitish waves materialized around the area where the spell hit.
Harry remembered reading in the Art of Dueling that using weaker spells in the beginning of a duel was a wise plan, as it allowed you to conserve your energy while your opponent drained his own. Snape was obviously hoping that he could tire Gates out and then knock him down with a strong curse.
"Infligo!" Gates bellowed as he ran sideways along the edge of the arena. He thrust out his wand as an ever-enlarging silver cone of energy shot out of it, a large, resounding boom like a cannon accompanying its presence.
Snape countered with "Protego!" but could not stop its full effects. When the cone slammed into him, he was violently knocked backwards several meters into the blue wall, his body crashing into the dome with a sickening crunch. The wall, apparently resistant to physical objects as well as magical ones, prevented Snape from flying entirely off the circular platform. A flicker of solid blue liquid appeared on the spot where the Potions master's body had hit and then vanished.
Snape instantly leapt back on his feet and met Gates's next curse with another, stronger "Protego!". This time, however, he managed to deflect it completely and sent Gates reeling back to avoid the ricocheting spell.
"Ignis!" Snape shouted, and a stream of liquid inferno flew out of his wand, arching slightly over a distance, and then caught the side of Gates's robes on fire.
The Hit Wizard sent another "Infligo!" curse back towards Snape as he quickly brushed out the fire on his scarlet robes. Snape managed to dive to the side in time to avoid the massive cone of energy.
"Using the spell of elemental fire, are we?" said Gates sleekly.
Even from this distance, Harry could see the beads of perspiration starting to form on each of their foreheads. Both of their eyes were slits, and if it were not for the color of their robes, Harry would have thought that he was looking at mirror images. Next to him, Ron was fidgeting nervously, his eyes intent on the duel in front of him. Hermione was sitting on the edge of her seat, eyes wide and fearful.
"Serpensortia!" Snape countered, and a thick, black beam of energy fell out of his wand, landing on the floor to form a thick python.
Gates muttered something under his breath, and a stream of fire like Snape's erupted from the end of his wand, and he waved it around like a whip. The liquid fell to the ground and burned, creating lines of inferno on the platform and giving the duel a hellish air.
Snape, trying to parry the whip of fire and simultaneously urging the serpent onward with flashes of sparks from his wand, rolled sideways and ducked. With increasing speed, the python slithered towards Gates and prepared itself to strike with bared fangs.
When the snake came within lunging range, Gates cut off his spell and staved off the python with short bursts of energy from the tip of his wand, trying to build some distance between himself and the snake to perform a disintegrating spell. The serpent snapped at him with its fangs, its red eyes locked onto Gates's massive figure, and attacked with quick, decisive motions.
Suddenly, Snape shouted "Petrificus Totalus!" and Gates ducked just in time for the spell to whiz over his head, singing his scalp.
Running out of patience, Gates jumped backwards with a great leap and raised his wand. Just as the python reared its head back to strike, he roared "Deletrius!" and the snake wavered and morphed into a coil of black smoke.
Grinning, Gates turned his attention back to Snape. He made a slashing movement with his wand, and a beam of purple energy fired out from it reminiscent of the curse Dolohov used on Hermione.
Snape instantaneously conjured an opaque, silver shield and held it stalwartly in front of him, clearly expecting the worst. When the purple beam slammed into the shield, a tremendously loud sound like a gong rung out through the great hall, causing many students to cover their ears. Gates scowled and performed the curse a second time with the same result.
"Stop fooling around, Severus," Gates warned, his necklace gleaming and his pointed teeth showing from beneath red lips, "I've barely warmed up yet. This is amateur. Do you want to see real spellwork?"
Just then, Snape drew a long, leather flask out of his robes and, after uncorking it, threw the contents across the arena and at Gates. A thin green slime covered the Hit Wizard's hands and arms, causing him to recoil with disgust. It steamed and hissed and, from the looks of it, was binding Gates's arms together as it congealed into a thick glue.
"Nothing like some good old fashioned Slytherin cunning!" Phineas Nigellus cried out from the portrait, thrusting his fist into the air.
Wasting no time, Snape's shield vanished and he raised his wand to strike. "Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!" he shouted in quick succession.
Gates tried to dodge out of the way but was too slow. The last stunner connected with his thigh, and it knocked him sideways, keeling over. The stunner, though performed correctly, only managed to make Gates wince painfully. Clearly, more than one stunner was required for a man of his size and build.
"I've suffered through more stunning spells than you can imagine, Severus," Gates spat, "Builds up resistance, I daresay."
Gates tried wiping the slime on his arms on his robes, but with little avail. After awkwardly pointing his wand back towards him, he muttered "Evanesco!" and the muck disappeared.
A strange look crossed Snape's face, and he quickly crouched down into a dueling stance, apparently not ready to strike again because of the enormous drain put on him from creating three stunning spells in such a short period of time. He carefully avoided the lines of fire that crisscrossed the platform, treading instead in a triangular area on the far end from Gates. Recovering, Snape straightened himself a little to get a better view of his target.
Gates, however, cast his curse first. "Exuro!" he bellowed, and an unrecognizable bolt of orange light fired into Snape's robes, setting them on fire.
His black robes, now swirling in tongues of inferno, shook and blew from nonexistent air. The Potion master's face was contorted with torment, and his chest crested outward from the burning flames. Snape, looking as though he was about to scream out in pain, tore the robes off and threw them on the ground. Harry saw, with some confusion, that there were no traces of burn marks on Snape's body, and that the robes themselves had not turned into ash. Apparently, this was simply an illusion used to play with the mind and senses. Snape, now robeless, stood in little more than a shirt and shorts, his scrawny body very obvious to the entire student population.
Gates snorted with laughter. "Well, Severus, your undergarments definitely do not suit you."
"That spell he used," Harry found himself muttering, "That's no better than Cruciatus Curse; it must hurt like hell. How can that be legal?"
"It's perfectly legal because of one reason," Hermione murmured absently, "The person its used on can stop it at any time. That spell Gates used can only be performed on clothing and objects. All you have to do is take off the clothing to stop the pain...though you still need a license to use it. Its an Edward Skinner Curse. There was a big court case about it..." Her words trailed off as she became more enraptured with the duel in front of her.
Presently, Snape, his face resolutely emotionless, shouted "Incarcerous!". Thick ropes shot out of his wand towards Gates, honing in on their target. The Hit Wizard performed a backward wiping motion with his wand and a brief flash of the Aegis Shield appeared, but it did not block all of the ropes. After the brief instant in which the Aegis Shield appeared and disappeared, the remaining trailing ropes tangled themselves around Gates forearm and torso, binding him tightly. Though his position was likely highly uncomfortable, he was not incapacitated.
Snape followed it up with another curse. "Stupefy!"
Managing to free his wand hand and performing the usual backward wiping motion synonymous with the Aegis Shield, Gates blocked the stunning spell and awkwardly stumbled away. Pointing his wand towards the binding ropes, he incanted "Abrumpo!" and the cords severed in half and fell uselessly to the floor. He stood back up to his full height and stepped over the now dying lines of fire that had resulted from his stream of elemental flame.
Snape backed away, as though unsure of what to do next. He held his wand in a guarded position, waiting for a chance to strike. There was no point in wasting his energy on curses that were easily deflected, after all.
Gates shoved his hand in his pocket and drew out something that looked like a fist full of lint. Taking a pinch of it and putting the rest away, he tilted his wand towards it and muttered a few inaudible words. The specks turned to metal and rapidly grew into roughly the size of a baseball. When he was done, he held four simple steel balls in his hand. Beside him, Harry heard Hermione gasp.
Gates tucked three of the balls into his robes and, when he held only one, grinned maliciously at Snape, his eyes glinting darkly. The necklace glittered like teeth across his chest, contrasting strongly with the plain, crimson robe. Harry saw Snape pale significantly.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Gates bellowed, and the single steel ball in his hand hovered in midair. Harry was baffled as to what purpose this could possibly serve.
"Waddiwasi!" Harry instantly recognized the spell as one Lupin used in his third year to shoot a piece of bubblegum up Peeves's nose. He realized with a large degree of horror what effect this spell would have on the large projectile in Gates's hand.
As the last syllable of the incantation left Gates's lips, the steel ball shot towards Snape like a bullet, slamming into the platform and ricocheting towards the dome wall. When it connected with the wall of energy, however, the ball lost whatever speed it gained and fell harmlessly to the floor. From the large impression the ball left on the ground, Harry knew that the ball could easily break bone and pierce flesh.
Ron's breathing picked up. "Almost anything goes in duels," he was explaining to Luna, "As long as it's not directly against the rules, he can do it." Luna, who probably already knew everything about duels, nodded politely.
He drew another steel ball out from his robes. "Wingardium Leviosa! Waddiwasi!" The ball whizzed over Snape shoulder, smacking off of the blue dome and joining its brother on the ground.
Irritated, Gates pulled out the third steel ball, and tossed it nonchalantly in his hand. Abruptly, he said "Wingardium Leviosa! Waddiwasi!"
The ball hovered briefly and then shot out towards Snape, aiming for the chest. The Potions master instinctively dived to the side, his face landing in a low line of leftover flame, and he quickly rolled himself off of it with his elbows and reached out for his lost wand. The third steel ball struck the blue curtain with a clang and dropped to the ground, rolling a little way before stopping.
Gates lazily drew the final steel ball and examined it closely, as though he found it incredibly fascinating.
Snape extended his hand even further, stretching his joints for an extra inch. His fingertips touched the wand, and, pulling it back a tiny bit, he grasped it with his hand and picked himself up off the ground. A sheen of sweat was running down his face and he looked worn out and old. Calling in his reserve strength, Snape drew himself up and inhaled confidently.
"Stupefy!" Snape shouted, obviously hoping to take Gates off guard.
Without even taking his eyes off the ball in his hand, Gates waved his wand and blocked the white energy with the Aegis Shield. Sighing deeply, Gates raised his wand again and stared vindictively at Snape, his coal black eyes smoldering.
Gates roared "Wingardium Leviosa! Waddiwasi!" and thrust his wand violently downward for emphasis.
In almost a blur, the steel ball struck a glancing blow on Snape's ankle, sending the Potions master reeling to the ground, clutching his foot with his free hand while tightly gripping his wand with the other. He stared up defiantly at Gates, inevitability etched into his face.
"Come on, Severus," Gates drawled, "You wanted to play rough. Now that you have, do you want to continue? I will accept your surrender now, if you wish. Just give me your wand." He extended his smooth, gloved hand.
Harry watched Snape, pitying him. He doubted that even Sirius would want Snape humiliated in this way. It was cruel, twisted, and, most of all, unnecessary. Despite his oath that he would never feel sorry for Snape, he did.
"Go to hell," spat Snape, "Infligo!" The words were accompanied with a ear-deafening boom and a silver cone erupted from the tip of Snape's wand and slammed heavily into Gates's chest. The huge Hit Wizard was sent flying backwards, spinning while in the air, three meters to land roughly on his stomach with a dull thud.
Snape slowly climbed to his feet, heaving himself up as if it took great effort. His wounded foot was dragging on the ground, as though it was too maimed for use. Snape seemed to be trying to perform a strange balancing act on his stronger leg, his upper body wavering back and forth as he tried to even out his weight. At length, he found a medium and stood still with his wand threateningly raised.
Presently, Gates lifted himself up off the floor, his teeth bared and his eyes flashing maniacally. "Just who do you think you are?" he snarled.
"Legilimens!" Snape spat, his wand directed at Gates.
An expression of terror crossed Gates's face, but it was quickly masked over again when Snape broke the connection. Snape, who was evidently pleased at being able to unbalance his opponent, grinned.
Gates was almost trembling with rage. "You'll regret that Severus."
"Expecto Patronum!" shouted Snape, and a massive, silver scorpion crawled out of the tip of his wand, landing lightly on the ground. The curl of its sting bobbed at around the height of Snape's head, and its pinchers snapped menacingly. Gates growled savagely.
The scorpion wasted no time in charging towards Gates, its pinchers wide with anticipation and the promise of pain. The sting swung to and fro, positioning itself for a precise strike. Harry had no doubt that the poison in the sting would be enough to temporarily paralyze, even possibly kill, the towering Hit Wizard. While he knew that the Corpreal Patronus was unreal, it could still move physical objects, and its alternative uses were listed in The Art of Dueling.
Gates sidestepped swiftly, avoiding the pinchers and trying to move into the scorpion's blind side. The scorpion's sting struck out at Gates's head, but the Hit Wizard managed to duck before the barb connected with its target. The pinchers simultaneously swung out for his legs, and Gates was just barely able to jump out of range before the scorpion's right pincher snapped shut with a strength that would have severed Gates's leg clean off.
Evidently wanting to take advantage of Gates's momentary weakness, Snape bellowed "Petrificus Totalus!" and the body bind curse flew out of his wand, just grazing the hem of Gates's robes as the Hit Wizard leapt to get away. Unfortunately for Gates, the scorpion used this moment to strike out with one of its pinchers, and the claw sliced easily through his robes, and would have hit flesh had Gates been less agile.
"Reducto!" Gates incanted, and the spell connected with the scorpion, causing it to hesitate briefly before its sting cleaved downwards.
"Reducto!" Gates repeated, and again, the patronus wavered before attacking, as though the curse had interfered with its movements.
Snape bellowed "Infligo!" and the ever-enlarging cone of silver exploded from his wand, rushing directly at Gates's vulnerable position. Gates countered it with a backward wipe of his wand and a "Abiuro!", banishing it away with his Aegis Shield.
"You're going to have to do better than that, Snivellus!" taunted Gates, his eyes focused on the scorpion as it tried to lunge out with its sting. He neatly parried it.
"Accio robes!" Snape shouted, pointing his wand directly at Gates. The Hit Wizard's scarlet robes pulled strongly in Snapes direction, irresistibly dragging Gates with them. Snape made small tugging motions with his wand, urging the robes to pull harder towards him. Harry immediately saw Snape's strategy, and his jaw dropped. Even as the clothes were bringing Gates slowly towards Snape, they were also dragging Gates closer to the scorpion, which was waiting patiently between the two men with open pinchers. Snape's face pulled back into a sneer.
"He's going to kill him!" gasped Hermione.
"We don't know that," Ron muttered, "We won't know for sure until afterwards. Duels are based on technicalities."
Suddenly, Gates thrust out his wand and muttered an incantation. When Harry saw the flash of light leave his wand, he recognized it instantly as a simple stinging hex. The hex connected with Snape's hand, and the Potions master dropped his wand in surprise as a welt sprung up on his hand, which Harry knew from experience burned painfully. Gates's robes halted, and the Hit Wizard was no longer being pulled towards the scorpion.
"Reducto! Reducto! Reducto!" Gates roared, jerking his wand upwards and downwards to make the curses more potent.
The scorpion became noticeably more paler after each of the three curses struck its carapace, and its movements started to become slower and delayed. It whipped out its sting towards Gates, but was only an instant too slow and only managed to cut through empty air. Gates, seeing that the curses were effective, grinned.
Snape snatched his wand off the ground and pointed it at Gates. "Stupefy!"
Harry now saw that the Potions master was simply distracting Gates so that the scorpion would be able to attack, but his efforts seemed to be failing. Gates conjured his Aegis Shield and the stunning spell was nullified just as the Hit Wizard leapt out of the way of the scorpion's barbed sting.
"Deletrius!" Gates incanted as he dodged the scorpion's left pincher. The spell hit the patronus, and, to Snape's visible dismay, the scorpion faded and dissolved into dust and then into nothing. Gates lowered his wand and sneered.
"Are you done yet?" asked Gates in a bored tone.
Snape slashed his wand diagonally and a thin beam of purple light shot from its tip, which was deflected instantly by Gates's Aegis Shield.
Damn, Harry thought, That defense charm is incredible.
"No, no," Gates said, "This is how you use that curse." He slashed his wand and the purple light, thicker than Snape's, fired out and flew towards the Potions master. Snape conjured his opaque shield and a tremendous bang resounded.
The two men circled each other, the elemental flames that had once crisscrossed the platform now nothing but a pile of ash. Snape looked particularly exhausted, and his limp was not more apparent than ever. He tried in vain to use his wounded foot, but every time he walked he winced painfully. Gates saw this and snorted.
"I think it's time to end this." Gates said matter-of-factly. "Expelliarmus!" Harry sucked in his breath. Gates had just successfully performed a second year spell on the Potions master. Harry had the sinister feeling that Gates had been planning this all along, and the majority of the duel was simply a game.
Snape's wand flew out of his wand and arched in the air towards Gates, who again raised his arm in an incantation. "Wingardium Leviosa!"
Snape's slim wand obediently stopped in midair, waiting for additional commands. Slowly, at Gates's subtle wand movements, the wand lowered itself down to Snape's head, and, after several seconds, it hovered directly in front of Snape's face. The Potions master did not even reach out to grab it, but stared at it strangely, as though he was looking at an old friend that he had not seen in thirty years. The entire great hall held its breath, and Harry chanced a glance in Dumbledore's direction. The headmaster's expression, Harry was unsettled to see, was troubled.
"I am offering you your wand, Severus," Gates said icily, his eyes glinting in grim amusement, "Are you worthy enough to take it?"
Suddenly, the tip of Snape's wand drew back slightly, and then held there. Snape tilted his head slightly, and for a moment no one breathed. With a single blurred motion, Snape's wand slapped its owner across the face with a loud crack and sent the Potions master recoiling, his right hand rubbing his cheek. Gates jerked the wand backwards and he caught it easily with his free hand. He abruptly began to laugh, his chilling voice echoing throughout the hall. Just as quickly as it began, it stopped.
"As you have no wand, you have no choice but to surrender. This duel is finished, Severus." said Gates mirthlessly. He waved his wand and the massive blue dome vanished without a sound. Wordlessly, he strolled off of the platform. Dumbledore leaned over to Professor McGonagall and began whispering into her ear.
A dull murmur broke out as students and professors alike discussed the duel they had just witnessed, and Harry sensed an underlying uneasiness in all their voice. Hermione looked very pale, while Ron appeared to be distant, almost detached. Gates leaned easily against a stone wall, watching Harry carefully for his reaction. Harry gave him none.
"Well mate," Dean said as he walked up to Ron. He carried the familiar tin can loosely in his hand. "It was over three minutes. Your share is thirty sickles." He counted off the amount and handed it to Ron, who now had color returning to his face.
"I won!" Ron said eagerly, "Thirty sickles! I could buy a whole package of dung-" He caught the look on Harry's face. "A whole package of quills and ink!" he said rather unconvincingly.
A few meters away, Harry heard the boy named Ian arguing with Dean and Seamus. "I said that Snape would use a sneaky tactic," he was saying, "I never claimed that Snape would win!"
Harry chuckled inwardly. When he saw Snape's face, though, his chuckling stopped. Standing on the platform, being tended by Madam Pomfrey, was Snape, his eyes reflecting those of a broken man.
"Well," Ron said, "I can't say old Snape deserved that. That was rough."
"No kidding," Harry agreed. Beside him, Hermione sniffed.
"Do you know what we just saw?" Hermione said shakily, "He transfigured specks of dust into much larger objects. That's incredibly difficult. You know what that means?"
No words were spoken for a long moment. Phineas Nigellus, sounding supremely annoyed, said "Damn him. He'd have made a better Slytherin." Harry, however, did not hear him.
(A/N: Hope You all enjoyed it; I thought it was one of my better chapters. Yes, I realize there was no romance, but that's coming. Trust me.
The main scene I am concerned with is the duel: I've never really written anything like it before and I would appreciate any sort of feedback on it, even if it's a one-liner. Was it too slow/fast/boring/unoriginal/etc? That was an epic-sized duel (Almost 4000 words) so I'm not planning on doing too many of those in this fanfic. Most will be much shorter. These next few chapters are going to be on the larger side, so bear with me.
Next chapter: Malfoy attempts to sabotage C.O.M.C class, Harry has potions with a delightful Snape, Harry steps up with his 'plan' (And its revealed for those who haven't guessed it yet) and finally we get some answers from Dumbledore (And other sources) regarding Gates's colorful history. And Harry gets a 'gift' from someone, or something.)