Coiled (Book 1 of 2)

Blood on Snow (Part I)

A very remote part of the countryside.

Late December, 1976.

It's a bitterly cold morning, though perhaps that's fitting weather for the dead of winter, the very end of the calendar year. And as a fresh snow swirls and falls, as icy powder coats all there is to coat, most families and friends are cosied up indoors together, winding down after the Christmas holiday and readying themselves for the new year.

... Most, but not all.

A small circle of very secretive families is presently occupied in a wildly different pursuit. Today the elite of the elite, the very upper echelon of the pure-blooded wizarding world, are privately gathered together in this decidedly remote and unassuming location.

The top of a knoll, actually. A small, round hill in the middle of absolutely nowhere. It goes without saying that the conditions are especially harsh here on the eve of the new year. Freezing cold and the extreme isolation gives the place a decidedly grim and despairing air. Here, as the frosty winds whip sharply through the gothic pines, a light flurry of snowflakes continues to fall. Here, as a pale sun just begins to peek over the horizon, the aforementioned families gather for a much anticipated rite of passage.

A battle of the serpents, though that's not its official name. This event - if one could even properly call it such a thing - has been given no real name at all. And yet, in the absence of a name there are rules. And those rules are crystal clear: the heirs of the families assembled here will spend the day engaged in a vicious duelling competition. The purpose of which, like absolutely everything else they do, is to determine rank within their rank. To determine their worth; to see who's the very best among them.

They've been practising, you see. Practising quite extensively. Most of these teenagers are members of the exclusive duelling club at Hogwarts. It's a club that everyone knows they silently commandeered for themselves and themselves alone. Because while technically speaking students other than members of the house Slytherin can join, none ever do. And so there, amongst themselves they continue extensive supplemental practice of their duelling most weeknights after classes.

And now? For the first time ever their Lord wants to witness them at work. He wants to see how they move, and perhaps most importantly of all, how they move against one another. Like absolutely everything in their lives, it's a test. A test in an endless series of tests with ever escalating stakes.

Why outdoors? Why here? Because, to quote their Lord himself, "Can't hide blood on snow." And that's exactly how today's duels will be conducted. Not to the death of course - nothing so ridiculously extreme as that. Rather, the teenage heirs are to each draw lots and duel each other accordingly until first blood is drawn. Then, when a victor emerges from each respective match, they'll advance to the next round. On it goes again, until at last one clear winner remains.

And the reward? The ultimate outcome of all this?

... Unknown.

As the adults gather in the larger clearing at the very top of the hill the teenagers are taking a moment to privately prepare themselves in a smaller clearing just down the hill. They're a sight to see, sharply dressed in their winter duelling garb. While some wear long black fur lined capes, others have opted for insulated, custom made long sleeved doublets.

"Well then ... what do you say? Which will you claim?"

Barty's question seems to hang in the air as the rest of the group shuffles about with the telltale signs of quiet agitation. Never one to be comfortable with silence, he's been pestering them to each name an animal that they feel most represents their combat style. He's particularly eager for distraction because he's nervous about what's to come. Unlike the rest of them, his parents aren't here. His parents have no idea what he's up to - as usual, he came alone.