enchanted • draco malfoy

Year 2: Dueling Club

Felicity's POV

"And then Dumbledore said that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened again," Harry said as he finished recounting his story. "Again?" Hermione asked, "You mean the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before?"

Ron scoffed. "Of course," he answered for Harry, "Don't you see? Lucius Malfoy must've opened it while he was at school here. And now he's taught Draco how to do it." I sighed and meticulously added another ingredient to the potion sitting in front of me and Mione.

"Maybe," Hermione said, unconvinced, "but we'll have to wait for the Polyjuice Potion to know for sure." I looked up to see Ron rolling his eyes. "Enlighten me. Why are we brewing this potion in broad daylight... in the middle of a girls' lavatory? Don't you think we'll get caught?" he asked, looking around.

Hermione and I glanced at each other and chuckled. "No," I said, "No one ever comes in here." Ron and Harry looked confused. "Why not?" Ron asked, brow furrowed. Hermione added a pinch of Powdered Bicorn Horn and stirred the smoking concoction before replying, "Moaning Myrtle."

"Who?" Ron and Harry asked in unison. I shook my head and laughed a little bit as the infamous ghost appeared in the stall behind Ron. "Moaning Myrtle," Hermione repeated slowly. "Who's Moaning Myrtle?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"I'm Moaning Myrtle!" the ghost announced, floating in front of Ron's face. "I wouldn't expect you to know me," she continued as he and Harry gaped, "Who would ever talk about ugly, miserable, moping Moaning Myrtle?" I rolled my eyes. "Go moan in another bathroom, Myrtle. Please," I said, annoyed.

I'd accidentally come into this bathroom once last year, and Myrtle kept making the toilets explode. Nevertheless, I was not a very happy first year. She pouted and flew into a toilet, wailing. Harry and Ron exchanged looks, seeming genuinely afraid. "She's a little sensitive," Hermione said indifferently, shrugging.

~*~

The professors at Hogwarts happened to think that it was a brilliant idea to host a mandatory Dueling Club for each year, which would've been fine, if Professor Lockhart and Professor Snape weren't leading ours. I stood around a long table that was moved into the Great Hall for this practice with Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

"Gather round!" Lockhart shouted over the talk of the students. We all quieted down as he strut across the table. "Good, good," Lockhart said pleasantly, "Can everyone see me?" "Unfortunately," Ron said, snickering. Harry and I laughed as Hermione glared at us.

"In light of the dark events of recent weeks, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this Dueling Club to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves, as I myself have done on countless occasions. For full details, see my published works," he said, winking. Some of the girls sighed dreamily and I cringed.

He untied his cloak and threw it into the crowd where a bunch of girls began fighting over it. What would you call that? A gaggle of girls? A herd of girls? A flock of girls? I shook my head in distaste.

Lockhart smiled and continued parading around in front of us. "Let me introduce my assistant," he continued, "Professor Snape!" We all turned to the opposite side of the table, where Snape was walking slowly towards Professor Lockhart, looking mildly uncomfortable, disgusted, and cold and angry as ever. "He has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration, but I don't want any of you youngsters to worry. You'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him. Never fear!" Lockhart declared.

"My money's on Snape," I whispered to Hermione. She rolled her eyes. "I'll bet you five sickles that Lockhart will win," she challenged. I scoffed, "Deal." Lockhart whipped out his wand with Snape mirroring his actions. They bowed to each other before turning around and walking to other ends of the table, their backs towards one another. They took ten steps each before turning back around. Lockhart grinned, "One... Two... Three!"

The second the last syllable left his mouth, Snape was in the middle of his spell. "Expelliarmus!" he shouted. Lockhart flew backwards, landing solidly on his back. Everyone gasped, and a few people chuckled. I smirked as Hermione shoved five sickles into my outstretched palm. "Do you think he's alright?" she asked, concerned. "Who cares?" Ron asked, arms crossed over his chest.

"An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but, if you don't mind me saying, it was pretty obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only to easy," Lockhart said, brushing invisible dust off of his shoulder. "Men and their egos," I muttered.

"Perhaps it would be prudent," Snape drawled, "to first teach the students to block unfriendly spells, Professor." Lockhart's gloating expression faltered for a moment before he recovered. "An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape. Let's have a volunteer pair... Potter, Weasley, how about you?"

Everyone turned to them and Snape spoke. "Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'd be sending Potter to the Hospital Wing in a matchbox. Might I suggest someone from my own house? Malfoy, perhaps?"

Harry and Malfoy both climbed onto the table, glaring at each other. "Wands at the ready!" Lockhart demanded. They both took out their wands, and Malfoy smirked at Harry. "Scared, Potter?" he taunted. Harry scoffed, "You wish." All the Gryffindors grinned proudly.

"On the count of three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent. Only to disarm," Lockhart said, sending Malfoy a pointed look, "we don't want any accidents here. One-" Harry and Malfoy both lifted their wands. "Two-"

"Everte Statum!" Malfoy yelled. Harry was thrown backwards and landed in a crumpled heap at the end of the table. The Slytherins cheered and Malfoy smirked. Then Harry stood up, an angry expression on his face.

"Rictusempra!" he shouted. Malfoy was shot backwards and landed at the feet of Snape, who grabbed the collar of his cloak and hauled him up before pushing him towards Harry. "I said disarm only!" Lockhart called out frantically.

"Serpensortia!" Malfoy shrieked. A six-foot-long cobra landed only inches in front of Harry. "Don't move, Potter," Snape commanded, "I'll get rid of it for you." Lockhart cleared his throat, "Allow me, Professor Snape."

"Alarte Ascendare!" The snake flew up into the air in a fiery ball, but landed in the middle of the table without so much as a scratch. Unlike last time, right now, it was angry. Very angry. Harry began walking towards it, with a strange expression on his face.

Then he began hissing. Hissing, just like a snake. Almost everyone gasped; even Professor Snape looked stunned. The snake turned to Harry, and then to Justin Finch-Fletchy, a Hufflepuff second year. Harry continued his shrill, whispered hissing and the cobra reared up, towering over Justin.

"Vipera Evanesca!" Snape chanted quietly. The snake was quickly devoured by flames and turned to ashes. Harry blinked, and the dazed expression fell away from his face. "What are you playing at?" Justin asked with a shaky, yet enraged voice. Harry looked puzzled as he turned to me, Ron, and Hermione. We all sent him the same wide-eyed look he was receiving from everybody else.

"He's a-" Hermione began whispering. "-Parselmouth," I finished grimly, "Yeah, I noticed."

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harry's just gotta stir up shit everywhere he goes smh