The Legacy of Salazar

The Dueling Club

In the following weeks, paranoia ran rampant through the students. A few Ravenclaws began selling amulets and talismans that exploded in popularity. At least once a day, a Gryffindor would dangle a rabbit foot or other such nonsense in front of Merlin and order him to speak the truth. He found out after one particularly exhausting day that retaliating in Parseltongue did not help matters.

His fellow Slytherins were similarly strained. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws kept trying to convince them to turn Merlin in, to admit what everyone already knew, though they went about it in different ways. Gryffindors tried to appeal to their sense of honour. Ravenclaws tried to prove his guilt and failing that, bribery. Neither worked.

The first chance he got, Merlin asked Fred and George whether they had seen anything on their map.

"We were asleep at the time," Fred said with a grimace. "We'll keep an eye on it though. Maybe we'll get lucky and catch the next one." He hadn't sounded confident though. And, Hermione, Draco, and Merlin hadn't gotten any closer to finding out what kind of snake they were looking for or how it managed to slip in and out of the castle without anyone noticing.

The only good thing was Snape's headache potion, which worked like a charm but didn't last very long. The second time, he had asked Snape how to brew it himself and though Snape had seemed somewhat suspicious—Merlin had told him he was only curious—gave him the recipe. Merlin had then gone up to his dormitory during break and had brewed an entire cauldron full under his bed to use as he needed—which turned out to be every other day. It left him with a heavy sensation of warmth behind his eyes that lasted up until the pain returned, but he hadn't felt this good in weeks and decided he had enough to worry about. The Gryffindors, of course, took his improved attitude as proof he'd managed to escape punishment. Just thinking about it almost brought his headache back.

In the second week of December, Snape came around to take the names of everyone going home over the holidays. Merlin signed up at once, as did every other Slytherin.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and the Heir will attack someone over the holidays," Blaise had muttered to him, "At least it'd exonerate us."

But on December 17th Merlin and Draco had come down to the common room to find a new notice on the board. A small crowd of Slytherins had gathered around it.

"A dueling club?" Draco read aloud.

"I can think of so many ways that could go poorly," Merlin said, leaning in to read the sign. It said the first meeting was that night, in the Great Hall.

"Come on, Merlin. I know you have dueling experience but for the rest of us, it's a little hard to come by," said Draco.

"Funny. You imagine dueling this heir?"

"You never know."

And so, ten minutes to 8 o'clock, he and Draco met Hermione outside the library and headed down to the Great Hall.

"Who do you think is going to teach us?" Hermione asked, her eyes bright and excited. "I heard that Flitwick was a dueling champion back in the day."

"Flitwick? I put my money on Snape. My father told me he's a formidable dueler, and everyone knows he's keen on teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts one day."

Packed with what looked like the rest of the school, the four long tables of the Great Hall had been put away. Instead, a raised platform with gold trimming was in the middle of the room, a thousand candles hovering in the air. But as soon as they entered, the cheerful chatter stumbled to a halt as heads swiveled in Merlin's direction.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Merlin muttered through clenched teeth. He was acutely aware of the fact that everyone was holding their wands.

"It's fine," but Draco didn't look convinced. He swallowed, then lifted his head and sneered at anyone who met his eyes as he led the way towards a group of Slytherins huddled in the back corner. Merlin and Hermione followed, students pulling back from him as if he were the carrier of some terrible disease.