Albus Dumbledore was in a good mood as he sat in his office, things were going even better than he had hoped.
Harry had managed to win his duel with young Draco and so gain the ever so important marriage contract with Ms. Parkinson.
He had already contacted Lord Parkinson and got him to agree to a meeting with him as Harry's magical guardian to discuss the details of said contract.
With Harry coming from such a wealthy and powerful family to begin with, along with his fame as the boy-who-lived he saw no reason why he shouldn't be able to make one of the conditions be support in the Wizengamot.
His only worry was that he knew that this wasn't over, Lucius would not admit defeat so easily, and he would most assuredly try to win the contract back by some means.
Yet as he still plotted he was alerted to the arrival of one of the portraits, this one a painting of an almost entirely invisible Headboy, who he knew to normally be in the Slytherin common room. The fact that he was invisible, which was extremely difficult to make for a portrait, was invaluable as it allowed him to spy on the Slytherins and find out what they were up to. They would have never allowed said portrait to exist there had they realized that someone was actually there watching them.
"Professor Dumbledore, I do believe that I have some information for you," the invisible man began.
"What is it Carloman?" Dumbledore asked, "I trust that it isn't another person trying to smuggle firewhiskey into the school is it?"
"No Professor," Carloman said, "I'm perfectly aware by now that you don't really care about that. Actually I wanted to talk to you about a conversation I overheard with Draco Malfoy and his father. Apparently Lucius decided to visit the school without notifying you of it so he could visit his son."
"I was expecting such a visit, Lucius is bound not to be pleased with his son," Dumbledore pointed out.
"He wasn't," agreed Carloman, "but what I thought you should know is that he plans on winning the Parkinson girl back."
"Again I was expecting that," Dumbledore replied, "I've already gotten Flitwick to agree to teach Harry how to duel for that very reason should young Draco wish to try his luck in a rematch once he obtains another marriage contract."
"Lord Malfoy plans to get someone else to fight Harry and beat him and then beat that person in a duel," Carloman informed him.
"Interesting," Dumbledore responded as he sat back in his chair as he figured out how to use this new piece of information.
"I could try and keep tabs on him to see who he chooses," Carloman volunteered.
"Yes please do that," Dumbledore said finally, "but I suppose this changes nothing, except that I may have to get Flitwick to train Harry even more than I had originally planned. I want there to be no chance of losing. Find out what you can and alert the other portraits to have an ear out as well to see if we can find out just who Draco ends up using. As always say nothing of this to anyone."
"Very well Professor," Carloman agreed, not really having a choice.
As a portrait he was obligated to entirely obey the headmaster.
"Now go," Dumbledore commanded dismissively as he continued to make plans.
DUELDUELDUELD
Harry was a bit nervous as he made his way to his first dueling lesson with Flitwick, but he supposed the diminutive professor wouldn't have him do anything too bad, he was quite possibly the nicest teacher in Hogwarts.
Yet the normally cheery professor's expression was somehow replaced with a look of grim determination.
"Hello Harry," Flitwick said as he beckoned for him to follow him into his office.
As he entered Harry was expecting to see a small office perhaps with a desk, a chair and perhaps a few photos, instead what he saw was a huge empty room and a platform that stood a foot high and dominated much of the room.
At his look of awe, Flitwick explained, "I chose this office for a reason, I used to teach dueling as well a long while back before it was stricken from the curriculum, the headmaster before Dumbledore couldn't see much of a use for it. I had hoped that it would be reinstated but budget cuts so far hasn't allowed for it. I still got to keep the room that I used to teach my students in, but of course it hasn't been used in a very long time. It shall feel good to see it used again."
"Why me though Professor?" Harry couldn't help but ask, "I certainly didn't do a very good job during the duel, I barely managed."
"That was because you didn't yet know any spells Mr. Potter," Flitwick reminded him, "your instincts and natural talent are as keen as I've ever seen. With a bit training I believe that you could become a great duelist, and Dumbledore agrees, he was the one in fact who suggested that I teach you. I used to train some of the greatest duelists, some that even became famous for it. Its been one of my greatest desires of mine to do so again. We shall just have to see if you are really up to it."
"What exactly am I going to be learning Professor?" Harry asked.
"Everything Mr. Potter," Flitwick said, "as much as you can possibly stand, for I take dueling very seriously, I shall work you as hard as I think you capable of doing, but I shall stop if you ask me to stop."
Harry decided right then and there that he would never do so, putting as much effort as he could into it.
"I'd like to start you off by having you practice the disarming spell," Flitwick began, "a quick duelist can do a lot with only that one spell in his arsenal. Now if you would please get up onto the platform you can practice on that training dummy up there."
Harry did as requested and noticed the wooden dummy already standing and set up with a wand in hand.
"Expelliarmus," he cried as he pointed his wand at it.
The wand shuddered a bit, but otherwise remained there.
"Expelliarmus," he yelled again, and this time the wand went flying. Before the wand could really go anywhere, however, Flitwick summoned it back with his own wand.
"The disarming spell can be countered or summoned back to you quite easily if you either take the time to set up a spell that prevents it working at the beginning of the duel, or you have a semi-permanent charm placed on your wand to call it back to you in case it is lost, but it is still a good spell to know, many great wizards have been foiled by failing to take such precautions," Flitwick explained, "now do so again."
Only after he had successfully disarmed the training dummy 10 more times was Flitwick satisfied.
"Now let's see you do it on a real person," Flitwick said, "try and disarm me."
"Expelliarmus," he shouted as he pointed his wand at the professor.
Flitwick struggled to hold onto it, but evidently his spell was just strong enough and it went flying out of his hands.
"Very good Harry," praised Flitwick, "again."
He did so, managing to get Flitwick's wand to go flying out of his hand with his next 8 attempts before finally failing with the last one.
"I believe its because you are not used to performing too much magic yet, give it a few weeks and you should be able to perform magic way more," Flitwick explained, "which is why I'll give it a rest for now, right now let's test out your reflexes, I saw how good they were against Mr. Malfoy but I'd like to see how they do against me. If you could please go to the other side of the platform I'll begin firing spells at you, they won't do anything to you if you get hit, except record the amount of times you do get hit by my wand."
"Begin," Flitwick said as he immediately unleashed a tirade of spells at him. He only just barely managed to dodge the first one, and the second one whizzed past his left ear.
As he continued to do so, he soon found that facing a competent duelist like Flitwick was nothing compared to what he had to from Draco. Draco was as slow as a snail and aim as poor as a blind man in comparison.
He found himself getting hit more than a few times, and he was starting to get discouraged, as he wanted to do Flitwick proud. For how long he must have been at it he wasn't sure but he was starting to grow tired. However, with the same resolve he had made at the beginning to never stop kept him fueled.
Finally when he felt like the only like the only way he could dodge another spell was if he were to collapse onto the ground and not give up, Flitwick called it quits."
"Well done Harry," Flitwick praised.
"Its okay you don't have to be nice Professor," Harry answered, "that was rather pathetic, I promise I'll do better next time."
"If you had done any better," Flitwick commented, "I would have been sure you were lying to me about the experience you said you had, I've never seen a student do that well before for a first time. You got hit 47 times."
"Are you sure that's good professor?" Harry asked him as if he was mad.
"It could simply be that I am out of practice but I don't think that's it, personally what I think is that I shall be very grateful I decided to teach you how to duel," Flitwick surmised.
"Thank you Professor," Harry replied respectfully.
"I do believe you are worn out though," Flitwick commented, "I wanted to see how far you could go, and how far you would let me go, two of the marks of a great duelist are endurance and never giving up even when your limits are tested. Now go on and get out of here, I've kept you long enough, just meet me back here the day after tomorrow, and do the homework that I'm about to assign you, start running or to start walk 4 laps around the quidditch pitch in the morning. Harry groaned inwardly that was like 2 miles.
Still he dragged himself out of Flitwick's office and went to go find out if Pansy, Susan, and Hannah had waited for him to finish the homework.
When he finally found them in the library, he tried to sit down between Pansy and Susan.
"Harry," Susan commented, making a face, "you're all sweaty."
"Sorry," he apologized, "Flitwick gave me quite the workout."
"The good thing is you are just in time," Hannah informed him, "we were just getting started on our potions' essays.
"Wonderful," Harry said sarcastically as he pulled out his almost entirely unwritten essay.
It took some effort, well actually a lot of effort but finally they managed to finish it, along with the rest of their homework.
Gratefully they all went to bed.
DUELDUELDUELD
At the same time the weary students were turning in for the night, Draco had managed to get his target alone with him in their dormitory.
"Nott," Draco said with false joviality, "how's it going?"
"What is it Draco?" Nott answered, sounding annoyed.
"You mean I can't just simply ask how one of my good friends is doing?" Draco asked.
"I know you too well for that Draco," Nott told him, "you never ask how anyone is doing, and you never act that happy either so it must mean you want something from me so just tell what is it?"
Immediately Draco decided to drop the act as it clearly wasn't working.
"I need you to do me a favor, just a small thing really, I want you to challenge Harry Potter to a duel."
"Is that all?" Nott scoffed, "sounds me to like you must be pretty desperate to come to me to fix something like that, but I suppose you just need me to get you out of the mess that you created."
Draco frowned, such insubordination and cheeky remarks were something he was quite unused to from his peers, including Nott. Most Slytherins respected or even downright worshipped him as the Malfoy heir. Apparently his standing had fallen much more than he had thought because he had lost the duel. This would require better tactics if he was to get Nott's help.
"Well I don't suppose you could have helped me anyway," Draco said haughtily, "I suppose I'll just have to get someone better to do it, perhaps Crabbe or Goyle for example."
Crabbe and Goyle couldnn't fight their way out of a paper bag with magic," Nott replied, "I never said I couldn't do it, just that I wouldn't want to, I have no reason to take any risks, I have a marriage contract with Su Li and I see no reason to jeopardize that."
"Like I said," Draco responded, "you're just scared, scared that Potter will beat you."
"He beat you didn't he?" Nott reminded him, "and you're coming to me to fix your problem, I'm perfectly confident of my dueling abilities, and you should be too, I happen to have been trained how to duel by my uncle, who was a master duelist himself. If you really want me to beat Potter and get your girl Parkinson back I'll expect some form of compensation."
Once again Draco frowned, clearly Nott had the advantage over him and he obviously knew it. This would force him to remind him just who was in charge.
"As I remember it," Draco drawled, "I do believe my family happens to own the acromantula colony that you've been using to get your silk from to make clothes. It would be a shame if we decided to let someone else use it instead. Or what about how you are currently selling illegal flying carpets on the black magic market? Wouldn't it be a tragedy if the ministry were to find out about that little endeavor wouldn't it?"
Nott blanched, but to his credit he decided to fight back before he would admit defeat, "I'm sure my father has dirt on yours that we could use to get back at you just as easily."
"You forget that my father has all of those contraband officials in his pocket," Draco reminded him, "and our tracks are covered a lot better than yours, let's face it you couldn't pin anything on us. Of course if you just agreed to duel Potter nothing need happen unnecessarily."
Nott looked at him, as if trying to figure out a comeback, but once he realized he really did have nothing, he agreed.
"All right Draco you win, I'll take down Potter for you, just give me a few months to practice a bit," Nott finally acquiesced.
"You have until Halloween at the very latest," Draco told him, "I want this taken care of as soon as possible."
"I'm going to need all that time if you want me to guaranteed success," Nott replied, "and I'm going to need a troll."
"You need a what?" Draco asked incredulously.
"You heard me right," Nott grinned, enjoying his stunned reaction, "if you want Potter to lose, get me a troll."
"What could you possibly need a troll for?" Draco asked.
Nott grinned and said, "you'll find out."
DUELDUELDUELD
Over the course of that two weeks Harry was completely oblivious of his impending fight with Theodore Nott, and so had absolutely no reason to think that things weren't already going swimmingly.
His friendship with Pansy and Susan had quickly spread to include both Daphne and Hannah, their two best friends respectively, and the last few days Hermione had started joining them at the Hufflepuff table as well. They had tried to get a Ravenclaw to join them, but so far their were no takers. He suspected that it was partly because of Snape's idle threats in class that he would take points away from any student sitting at their unassigned table he had so far ignored them when they did it.
As far as dueling was concerned Flitwick kept assuring him that he was doing fantastically, one of the best he had ever seen according to him, as they continued their every other day classes. He was even starting to suggest that he might want to fight in the international dueling competition that took place every summer. It was really hard work, but he found he enjoyed it even if Flitwick kept hitting him far too many times for comfort.
Even his other classes were going well, as he found that with enough effort and study he could perform adequately. He was even learning spells as fast and as easily as Hermione, although his written work wasn't as good, as he saw no reason to do that much work as she did unnecessarily.
Today however was a day he had been particularly looking forward to, as they would be starting their flying lessons.
As he went out with his fellow Gryffindors and the Slytherins, each clutching their own school broom that they would be using, he wondered just how difficult flying would actually be.
"Welcome to your first flying lesson," Madam Hooch began, "first put your brooms on the ground, and then put your hand over it and say up."
"Up," came a chorus of students.
As Harry called up his broom, to his amazement his broom zoomed directly into his hand. He began to look around as his fellow students appeared to have more difficulty.
No one else had managed to get the broom to fly up into their hand on the first try, so they were continued to try, with varying success. Some of the brooms seemed started to come up about halfway but then crash back down, some would roll over, but then eventually after a few tries they started to get it. The next was Malfoy, who he knew had bragged a great deal about his flying prowess, telling a crazy story about out flying a muggle helicopter.
Pansy he was pleased to see got it a few seconds later.
Finally they were left with only two holdouts, although Harry suspected that some of the students had just simply bent down and grabbed their brooms with their hand.
Only Neville and Ron were still trying, and Neville's broom seemed to know just how much the poor boy really did not seem to want to fly since it did little more than roll over in the grass.
Ron's broom on the other hand just kept having its end come up and smack him in the nose every time he said up.
Harry tried not to laugh but following his falling out with Ron, who still kept going on about that boy-who-lived garbage, he couldn't help but now dislike him. He refused to try and make up with him until Ron figured the truth out for himself, and now all he seemed to want to do now was practice with Dean and Seamus who could make the loudest belch and fart, and try to help Seamus turn water into rum. Both boys seemed destined to become alcoholics at a young age if they kept it up, that is if they could somehow manage to perform the spell correctly.
Finally Ron and Neville both just grabbed their brooms with their hand as well, even though Ron's nose was starting to bleed slightly which had to be fixed by Madame Hooch, who appeared to have at least a basic knowledge of healing. Evidently she had dealt with nose bleeds before.
"Next," Madame Hooch informed them, "you will mount your brooms and then once I count to three and upon my whistle you will kick off from the ground with your broom and then come back down again, one, two..."
It was at that moment that Neville seemed unable to wait any longer or perhaps he was just so nervous he heard the count wrong as he kicked off with his broom and began flying all over the Quidditch pitch.
It was quite obvious he had no control as he continued to go all over the place and scream in terror. Madame Hooch got on her own broom to try and intercept the hapless boy.
Unfortunately as she drew closer to Neville, who was already by now quite high up, his broom made an about face as he crashed directly into her.
Madame Hooch might have been able to fend off this direct hit at her had it not been for the fact that they were very near the castle, which caused Madame Hooch to crash directly into one of the castle walls, knocking her out.
Having no idea what he was doing but knowing that he needed to do something, Harry got onto his broom and flew as fast as he could to intercept the falling Madame Hooch.
He just barely managed to pull it off, grabbing her just before she hit the ground as he held onto her with all of his might before setting her gently onto the ground.
Realizing that he needed to deal with Neville still, he looked to see him still in the air, now trying desperately to hold onto his broom as it went into a free fall.
With only seconds before Neville could land on top of a sharp weather vane that would have likely skewered him , Harry managed to grab Neville just as he lost his grip onto his broom, and pull him down to the ground, no easy task since Neville was still squirming around, still absolutely terrified.
Yet he managed to get him down to the ground, with a bunch of cheering students.
However, he was more focused on whether or not Neville and Madame Hooch were alright as he looked them over, Neville having fainted as soon as he reached the ground. After looking him over for a second and seeing no sign of any injuries, he turned to Madame Hooch, who had probably sustained more damage.
She looked pretty scraped up as far as he could tell, but for other injuries he wouldn't know until she regained consciousness.
Pansy on the other hand had just now joined him as she also knelt next to him to examine their still unconscious flying teacher for herself.
At that moment the group of students currently crowded around him suddenly went silent and as he looked throught the crowd he realized the reason why, Professor McGonagall was currently making her way across the lawn towards them.
"What exactly happened here?" she demanded with a scowl upon her face.
"Neville was trying to fly and lost control of his broom," Hermione explained, "then when Madame Hooch tried to fly over to him and stop him, he ended up ramming into her and she fell against the wall. Harry here then flew over and saved them both before they could fall."
"It appears they are alright as far as I can tell Professor," Harry explained to her as she would be wanting to know how both of the victims were doing, "Neville should be unharmed except a little traumatized, although Madame Hooch's face is scraped up a bit on her left side. I would need to have her regain consciousness or have Madame Pomfrey look her over for a more thorough job."
McGonagall still had her usual grim look on her face as she bent down to check them both over as well, but nodded, "they'll both need to be transported to the hospital wing, I don't suppose any of you know how to use Wingardium Leviosa yet?"
"We haven't learned that yet Professor," Hermione said.
"I can do that Professor," Harry volunteered, having just learned the Wingardium Leviosa spell early in an attempt to catch Flitwick off guard during one of their duels.
It hadn't worked, but it had still surprised Flitwick who hadn't been expecting him to have learned that particular spell already.
"Good," McGonagall said as she pointed her wand at Madame Hooch's body while it began to rise.
He hastened to do the same with Neville as he got his body floating a couple of feet above the ground.
"Class is dismissed," McGonagall told the other students, who immediately became disappointed that they would not get a chance to practice flying that day.
As he walked alongside his head of house, both Neville and Madame Hooch floating along a few feet past them, McGonagall took the time to talk to him.
"That was a very gutsy and dangerous thing you did," she reminded him.
"I had to do something," he replied, "I couldn't let either of them get hurt."
"Was this your first time flying Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked.
"Yes," he told her.
"That was quite an impressive bit of flying, even with someone with years of experience, you must have a lot of raw talent to be able to do what you just did. I heard Mr. Longbottom's screams from my window and watched the whole thing, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes," McGonagall praised him.
"I really had no idea what I was doing it just happened," Harry explained.
"You saved a teacher and a student from certain harm nonetheless," McGonagall pointed out, "how about you take 20 points from your efforts?"
"I could never accept them," Harry admitted, "I did what anyone would have if they had been able. I couldn't profit from something like that."
"Then how about I offer something else then," McGonagall suggested, "we currently have a need for a seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, we could really use you."
Harry thought about it for a second as he supposed it would be rather fun, but then he thought of dueling and his other schoolwork, he simply didn't have the time for something else.
"Respectfully Professor I must decline," Harry said solemnly, "I'm afraid I would be just too busy, as my schoolwork takes precedent."
McGonagall nodded, looking sad that he had turned her down, but seeming to understand.
"I admit I'm disappointed as I really think you could be a great asset to the team but I suppose I must accept that answer, I would hate for your schoolwork to suffer, which at least in my class has been more than adequate."
They continued in silence the last hundred yards to the hospital wing, before Madame Pomfrey could have a look at them.
As she ran a diagnostics spell she found Neville to be largely unharmed, but Madame Hooch was found to have a broken wrist which had probably happened when she had tried to push her hand against the wall in order to stop herself from hitting it.
However she was immediately able to fix it, along with her slightly damaged face, and bring her back to consciousness, even though she was still a little dazed. Madame Pomfrey assured them she would be fine.
When Harry left as soon as he knew they would be okay to go find his classmates, McGonagall said to herself, "20 points to gryffindor for saving a teacher and a student, and another 5 points for not accepting a reward when offered Mr. Potter."
DUELDUELDUELD
Meanwhile back in the Slytherin common room, Malfoy was extremely unhappy as he had had to witness Potter be the hero yet again and save the day. Even his former strumpet Parkinson had been fawning all over him. It was absolutely disgusting, and he dreamed once again of proving just how pathetic he really was to everyone. Then he would get Parkinson back and make her pay for ever thinking that she could get away from him.
Since everyone else was still in class or up in their dormitory, he chose to take the opportunity to talk to Nott, he decided he really didn't care if the other boys overheard, as the secret wouldn't need to be kept for long.
"Nott," Malfoy said, "when is this plan of yours going to take effect, I want Potter taken care of."
Nott nodded, "just get me my troll and we'll do it."
Malfoy frowned, he still couldn't understand just what Nott needed a troll for.
"You'll get your troll then," Malfoy told him, "I don't care what you do with it, just make sure its worth my time to procure."
"Very well," Nott agreed.
"I expect you to win and win so completely that Potter is brought to a blubbering mess," Malfoy said, "I want to see him brought so low that there is no chance of his ever getting up."
"Potter won't know what hit him," Nott agreed, "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve if you get my drift."
Malfoy grinned, whatever Nott had planned it was hopefully something particularly devious.
"Just what is it are you planning to do?" Malfoy asked curiously.
"A good wizard never reveals his secrets," Nott answered mysteriously.
Neither of the boys realized however that they were being watched by Carloman the invisible man, who immediately went to go report to Dumbledore.
"Professor Dumbledore," Carloman said when he finally got there, having had to travel several stories and a great number of paintings to get there.
"What is it Carloman?" Dumbledore asked, sitting at his desk, currently looking over the accident report for the flying incident that Madame Pomfrey had just sent him.
"The pasty faced weasel friend of Malfoy's plans to challenge Harry Potter to a duel to win back Ms. Parkinson tonight at dinner," Carloman informed him.
Dumbledore thought for a moment to remember just who Carloman was talking about before he realized he was referring to Nott, a student he barely knew but he could still remember Nott's uncle, an accomplished duelist and former member of Voldemort's inner circle.
If Nott was the one making such a challenge it did not bode well, he had heard from another portrait while trying to figure out just who Malfoy would use for his dirty work that Nott had once bragged to his fellow students that his uncle had trained him how to duel over the summer.
"What exactly does Nott plan to do?" Dumbledore asked.
"He wouldn't say," Carloman replied, "just that he had a few tricks up his sleeve."
Of course when he heard that Dumbledore immediately knew that he probably meant some unknown way to cheat. This would require some careful forethought if he were to ensure Harry's victory.
It would be earlier than he had planned but this was a duel he wanted Harry to fight in, one of his connections had given him the knowledge that Nott was betrothed to Su Li, the daughter of Lord Li, another person on the Wizengamot he had been hoping to persuade to join his side. He would just have to do something that would ensure victory.
"Very good Carloman," Dumbledore said finally, "please stand on alert and let me know if they let anything else slip that I might be able to use.
"As you wish headmaster," Carloman responded as he began surfing through portraits again leaving Dumbledore to his thoughts.
It appears that if I am to ensure that Harry retains his control over Ms. Parkinson I will have to take matters into my own hands, Dumbledore thought.