Chapter 13 - Battle Lines
It was Ginny’s second week at Silver Grove, on a Thursday night. September still had a few days left to run, but the weather had changed, and the temperature had dropped to within spitting distance of freezing. So, there was a fire blazing merrily in the fireplace. Ginny, having returned directly from dinner, had secured one of the armchairs directly in front of it, and was trying to concentrate on her Charms homework. Professor Miyazaki was still having her do eighth-grade work, and she was having to do it without actually attending the class. And that was especially tough on this occasion, since Freshening charms were a bit tricky.
She fixed her eyes on the rotten orange in front of her, then tapped it with her wand. “Fructus compositus,” she said for the tenth time. A scatter of sparks touched the fruit, and the brown and white spots faded from it. Ginny gave it a sniff. It no longer smelled funny. The real proof would be in the taste, but she was far too full from dinner to. . . .
Something tapped her on top of the head. “Hey. You.”
Ginny turned, angry; that knock had hurt. The culprit was Kayla Anderson, one of the girls in Nettlebank’s little group. Most of them were Wolves, but there were a few from other halls, including two Bears. The other one, Steven Smith, was behind her. Ginny glared at them both. “What do you want?”
Kayla’s voice was ice. “Where’s your friend? That mudblood, I mean.”
Ginny knew where both Irma and Ashley had gone. Irma needed to give something to Professor Root; Ashley had accompanied her. One of the lessons that Irma’s brutal first year had taught her was that unpopular students were wise to travel in pairs, or even trios. Ginny disliked lying, and she certainly wasn't going to tell these clowns the truth, so she chose the third option. “Bugger off.”
“Why don’t you try and make me?” When Ginny didn’t grace that remark with a response, Kayla persisted: “What’s it like, sleeping with a couple of mudbloods? Does the stink keep you awake?”
“The only stink I can smell is you,” Ginny spat back.
“You talk mighty tough for a muggle-loving foreigner,” Kayla said. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?”
“And I’ll bet you wouldn’t talk as tough without your boyfriend there,” Ginny said. Steven Smith could have given a wart-hog ugly lessons.
A nasty light flared to life in the depths of Kayla’s eyes. “You want to have me one on one? Is that it, you little brat?”
“Yeah,” Ginny said, too angry to sense the danger. “You want a fight, I’ll give you one.”
Kayla grinned savagely. “Wait here.”
As she exited the room, Steven laughed, a hollow rattling sound that held very little humor. “You’re in for it now, carrot top.”
“Don’t you have something you need to be doing right now?” Ginny asked.
Steven started to reply, but fell silent when Kayla emerged with Esmerelda in tow. The latter had a slight look of concern on her face, which deepened when she saw Ginny. She turned on Kayla, contempt in her voice. “What is this? Trying to make easy odds for yourself, Anderson?”
“I challenged her. She accepted. If you want to talk sense into her, you’re free to try,” Kayla snapped back.
“Ginny, this is a bad idea,” Esmerelda said. “You’re asking to get hurt.”
Ginny greatly admired Esmerelda, but she knew that she could not let the teasing that had just happened pass; if she did, she would be seen as a safe target for other tormenters. She said nothing.
“Very well,” Esmerelda said, dry and businesslike now. “Do you have a second?”
“A what?” Ginny asked, momentarily confused. “Yes, I have time.”
“No, a second! You’ve been challenged to a duel, idiot! You need someone to back you up. And it can’t be me, I’m the referee. If you don’t have a second, you can’t fight.”
“She’s got a second,” Ashley said. She and Irma had entered the room unnoticed, joining the small crowd present.
“So be it,” Esmerelda said, sighing. “Let’s get on with it, then.”
There were about fifteen people in the room, and nearly all followed her out: Ginny and her two friends first, then Kayla and Steven, then their audience. Ginny wondered how so many people could march across the garden unnoticed, but no teacher came out to challenge them.
Irma and Ashley were muttering back and forth. Irma was saying, “Ashley, it should be you. Steven’s a sophomore. I’m just in eighth.”
“Maybe, but you’re a better duelist than me,” Ashley hissed back. “You’re already down for the Dueling team next year. I never even got an invite.”
“But you taught me most of what I know!”
“Maybe, but you’re faster and more accurate. Trust me, OK? I’ve seconded for you enough times.”
“All right,” Irma said resignedly, then muttered something else Ginny couldn’t hear.
They entered the building that housed the infirmary and the Defense room. It was never locked, Ashley had said, and it wasn’t now. Esmerelda flipped the switch, and the overhead lights in the defense chamber came on. “Duelists, assume your stations.”
Without hesitating, almost like dance participants, each person made for their respective places. Esmerelda stationed herself on an elevated platform, located on one side of the dueling platform, so that she was equidistant from the endpoints, but more or less out of harm’s way. The two seconds mounted platforms as well, located on the opposite side as the referee’s, and at each end. Kayla vaulted nimbly up to the stage, then looked mockingly at Ginny. “Well, co’mon up, mudblood-lover.”
Esmerelda’s voice was cold enough to frost over an ocean. “Anderson, you will not use that term in my presence. If you do so again, then regardless of what happens here, you will fight me tonight. Is that very clear?”
Kayla nodded, fear in her eyes at the thought. Ginny mounted the stage at the other end, keeping her eyes on Kayla. The letter did the same with her.
“Draw your wands,” Esmerelda said, her voice harsh.
Ginny palmed her wand and raised it. She noticed that all four of the others had their wands out, and that the smallest of them was fifteen inches in length and at least half again the thickness of hers. She knew that twelve inches was on the long side for a wand and idly wondered why that was.
Steven answered for her. “Look! She doesn’t even have a dueling wand! Stupid little. . . .” At Esmerelda’s glare, he quickly fell silent.
“This is a one-on-one duel,” the prefect intoned. “As per standing rules, no physical contact or outside interference will be tolerated. No potentially lethal spells may be used. Failure to observe these rules will result in forfeiture of the duel, and use of the Disruption curse on my part. The duel will be over when. . . .”
“When your skinny butt hits the floor, Weasley!” snapped Kayla. “So if you lose your wand, better let your second get it, or you lose. Got it?”
As Ginny nodded, she heard the door outside door open. Relief and disappointment conflicted within her. She knew by the shock of pink hair that it was Professor Grayson. He would, of course, stop the fight. So honor would be satisfied, but they would still tease her about needing a teacher to save her. She lowered her wand and relaxed.
And then, Esmerelda spoke. “Professor, do you want to take over here?”
Professor Grayson’s voice was stony. “No.” A long silence. “Proceed.”
Ginny stared at the professor in horror, but he said nothing more. He simply crossed his arms and leaned back to watch the duel.