Year 2 Part 1

  … …

  As the Hat finished its song I clapped along with the rest of the student body. Just as they had been during the Hat’s song in my first year, there were subtle hints of gathering danger. To any who didn’t know what lay just over the horizon, the words would likely be treated as just a general warning of the dangers that one faced in life. Yet, knowing what I did, it was clear the Hat seemed if not aware, then at least able to sense the shifts in magical Britain that others failed to see.

  How that worked was a mystery, one I suspected I’d never learn the truth of. I knew it wished to speak with me again, once I knew more about fleshcarving, and I wouldn’t deny that I was curious what, if anything, it knew of my family magic, and for details about a certain former student who was soon to return and terrorise the country. However, when I would be able to speak with the Hat, and how I would be able to do that without Dumbledore learning I had done so and wondering what we had discussed were issues I had to determine the answers for.

  The clapping died away as Professor McGonagall gently coughed, drawing everyone’s attention. She then pulled out a roll of parchment, one that had to be magical as there was no way it had four hundred names upon it without the print being so fine that it would hurt to not just read but keep track of where she was in the list as she worked her way through it.

  “Aberffraw, Aeron.”

  I watched absently as the boy, a child from the Most Ancient Clan Aberffraw – one of the few Welsh families that still regarded themselves as a Clan and not a House – moved towards the stool and the waiting Sorting Hat. His name wasn’t one I was aware of, meaning he wasn’t from the main line of his Clan, or at least not the son of the current Heir. Still, it was a Clan whose current chief held Traditional Builder sentiments.

  “Slytherin!”

  The hat’s call was quick, no more than a few seconds after the boy had sat down. As I clapped politely along with the rest of the school, though there were a few half-hearted boos from the Gryffindor table, I saw movement on the Slytherin table. Several students smiled and joked with each other, and I assumed they had placed and won bets on Aeron’s house.

  I’d only discovered this was common while on the Express back to Hogwarts when several of the prefects – including Bellatrix and Alihandra Montague – from all the houses had entered our cabin. We weren’t allowed to place bets on members of our Clans or Houses, though first cousins as the like from outside the Clan or Houses were perfectly acceptable. The only students that could be bet upon were those who had magical parents as the names of the new muggleborns weren’t known to the prefects yet.

  I’d placed a few bets on those I knew were coming into Hogwarts this year, both those I had some connection to and others whose placements were reasonably certain to remain as they had in canon. Bellatrix had given me an odd look when I’d placed a bet on her cousin ending up in Gryffindor, and I could tell she wondered why I felt that.

  She didn’t ask me directly, but as a Sixth Year Ravenclaw named Merwyn noted down my bets Alihandra decided to place the same bet as I had. Bellatrix gave her a look, one that in a few years would send tremors of terror down the spines of any who stood against her. Alihandra was unconcerned by the look and responded with a knowing smile, and then as she left gave me a wink that was just a little unnerving. I knew she wasn’t suggesting anything romantic as she was betrothed, and happy about it, to Finn Dalcassin, but there was something about her, and the way she acted around me whenever Bellatrix was present that concerned me.

  “Abraham, Marcus.”

  The family name wasn’t one I recognized. Or at least one that wasn’t linked to a House or Clan in the Wizengamot and thus was unimportant. Knowing this process was going to take time, but with little else to do, I lowered my hand and gently scratched Xenocrates behind his ear. The raiju purred happily at the attention and leaned into my hand for more scratches. Something I freely offered.

  “Might I be allowed to pet your familiar?”

  I turned to the speaker seated at my left and met the eyes of Vesta Malfoy. The younger sister of Lucius Malfoy had, along with three of the top five girls in Slytherin from First Year, chosen to sit with me and a few other boys – interestingly, four of the top five boys in our house last year on the Express. We’d talked politely about our holidays and what we’d done, but beyond that, there was little hint as to why the quartet of girls had joined us. Now, they claimed it was because the best should gather together, however, I felt there was more to it. Particularly as Vesta had chosen to sit beside me in the carriage and then once we arrived in the Great Hall of the Welcoming Feast.

  “Certainly, Miss Malfoy,” I replied, deciding to be cordial. She was after something, but I wasn’t certain of what. Until I discovered her objectives, it was wiser to accept her presence, though I would remain on guard. I did hope to somehow convince her brother, and through him her House, to not side with Voldemort, however, my interactions with Lucius had been limited last year. Outside of the meetings of the Circulus Heredum, which had been every other month, and the rare encounter in the Slytherin chambers, the heir to the Ancient House of Malfoy was little more than a semi-familiar face.

  “Thank you.” Vesta’s hand moved to Xeno cautiously, aware that while I had granted permission my familiar hadn’t. The raiju lifted his head and looked at the nearby appendage. He took a cautious sniff of her hand and then lowered his head, leaning back into my fingers.

  Vesta glanced my way, and I confirmed that meant she could move closer before she eased her fingers closer to the 4X-rated creature. I watched her carefully, reading her body and eyes as she lightly ran her fingers along Xeno’s fur. While there was no outward hint of opinion, there had been for a fleeting moment the hint of trepidation in her eyes as her fingers neared Xeno.

  That was gone now, and as her eyes lifted to meet mine, she offered me a smile. One that, on the face of it, appeared genuine and warm. “He’s warm,” She said quietly, aware that our focus was meant to be on the Sorting and not on private conversations. Remembering last year, I knew that as time went by the general background murmuring would increase but at the start of the sorting, there generally wasn’t much conversation taking place.

  I nodded in response but remained silent, and turned my attention back to the Sorting. As I did, I saw a faint flicker of what appeared to be amusement in Godwine Suthsax’s eyes as he watched us from across the table. At his right, Adilene Pontius wore a smile, as if finding the interaction between myself and Vesta amusing. I paid it little heed as it wasn’t as if they weren’t sitting close to each other, and focused on the Sorting as a girl, Gloria Ashfield was sorted into Hufflepuff.

  Time passed slowly as I watched the next student be summoned and move slowly towards the Hat. As the names drifted into the B’s, I tensed for a moment. Vesta’s hand, in the process of stroking Xeno, had brushed against mine. The touch was unexpected, but I didn’t turn to face her, letting the matter go as nothing more than an accidental touch. If it happened again, that would be another matter, and I’d have to see what she was up to and how I would handle it.

  “Black, Sirius.”

  Outwardly I stayed calm, my fingers continuing to scratch Xeno – something he was now insistent I did as he knew I was not going to move – but inwardly I watched as my distant cousin, and currently the heir of the Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black walked through the Great Hall towards the Deputy Headmistress and Sorting Hat.

  A few of my housemates glanced my way, no doubt remembering the bet I’d placed on Sirius though they had all turned to watch the Black scion sit on the stool.

  “Gryffindor!”

  The hat’s call came quickly, and much of the hall fell silent. To Xeno’s chagrin, I lifted my hand from his ear and clapped, being perhaps the first to do so. Sirius’ gaze, along with many others, turned my way at the action and I offered my distant cousin a smile and nod. As our eyes met, I saw Sirius smile, and as the rest of the hall joined in, the Gryffindors loudly cheering the unexpected addition to their house, he slipped from the stool and moved towards his new house with growing confidence.

  Internally I knew the odds were that when he had to choose, he’d side with James and join Dumbledore’s faction, however, there was no harm in supporting his choices currently. It might even, as remote as the idea was, help to ensure that he didn’t at least side openly with Dumbledore when I was forced to face off against the Headmaster and Voldemort in the coming war.

  “How did you know?”

  For a fraction of a second, I went still. The whispered words for Vesta weren’t unexpected, but the warm breath on my cheek as she had leaned close enough to whisper into my ear was. “Jealous you lost the bet?” I replied, avoiding the question.

  “Not really. I mean, as a Black he should be here or maybe Ravenclaw. Gryffindor… that’s an odd one.”

  “A good way of describing Sirius,” I explained. Or as much of an explanation as I was going to give her. If Bellatrix asked about it, then I’d go further, but the older girl was further up the table, sitting with her fellow Sixth Years.

  There was silence from Vesta as the next student, Magnus Blackwood, was sorted into Ravenclaw. Though as the clapping for him took place she finally replied. “You enjoy this, don’t you? Being mysterious. Like you know something no one else does.”

  “I know a great many things, Miss Malfoy, but none of it is for you to know.” My reply was about as cryptic as I could make it, and internally I was grinning madly. While she wouldn’t be showing it externally – her training with Occlumency, like any child of a Clan or House in the Wizengamot, at least to Level 3 – I knew that her mind would be trying to crack the riddle I was hiding in my vagueness.

  “Vesta.” I stole a quick look her way and saw a small smile on her lips. “I think we know each other well enough that we can drop the family names, don’t you think?”

  If I hadn’t been certain she was up to something, which involved getting close to me, before then I was now. There were only a handful of people I used their given names with, and none outside of áine could get away with calling me Dom instead of Dòmhnall. Vesta deciding that it was time for us to use given names meant she wanted to ingratiate herself into my confidence, and while I remained cautious about it, the opportunity it might create to gain at least a better understanding of her brother was worth taking. “Perhaps you are right.” I turned back to the Sorting though I didn’t miss the triumphant twitch of her lips at me accepting the usage in addressing each other.

  The Sorting continued in silence, granting me time to go through various things in my head. Already I knew every spell, charm, hex, jinx, and potion that was taught in Second Year. For almost all of the wandwork, I could cast them silently without losing any potency for the spell. The few that I couldn’t I was able to whisper the incantation and retain as much power and control as I wished over the magic I was wielding. For the potions, I could at least brew them to an acceptable level, or so my aunt Katrina stated.

  My rune work was beyond what I would cover this year, and far broader after my trips to the Greek Free States and the Egyptian capital of Memphis. I might not have learned a great deal about the runes and hieroglyphs they used in their magic, but I had managed to get several books on the subject while there. Ones that covered everything they were willing to teach to outsiders. Add in the runes I was learning with fleshcarving and my knowledge while not deep was vast compared to my fellow students. Or at least those in my year.

  I had the concept of a third fleshcarved array in a notebook hidden in my chest. The tome had provided details of the next array it felt would serve me well, and from what I’d managed to piece together already, it was another focusing on my physical abilities. This one seemed to focus on my ability to take and recover from damage. Something akin to enhanced healing and/or the potential to be even more resistant to damage than I already was because of the magic that flowed through my body and soul.

  “Evans, Lily.”

  I was drawn from my internal monologue – which was in no way an evil thing – at the mention of the muggleborn. Without making it obvious that I was more interested in seeing her sorted in the dozens that had come between her and Sirius, I watched as she moved down the hall, her fiery red hair held back in a simple ponytail as she walked. I couldn’t see her face, but I suspected she was amazed at everything going on and enjoying the experience.

  As she sat on the stool, I waited. A part of me hoped that she might, based on the friendship with áine and her cousins, end up away from Gryffindor. The quartet of girls, when not spending time doing the things girls usually did in magical Britain, had all shown strong hints of being Ravenclaws. The drive to learn magic, know how it worked, and study it as deeply as they could was prominent in all of them. Yes, they would have different interests regarding magic, but none were interested in learning the deeper mysteries of our world.

  “Gryffindor!”

  I clapped politely after the Hat made its call. Around me, there were a few comments, mainly about the idea that muggleborns should only be in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. I caught Amycus Carrow, who sat further down the table, almost at the end, muttering something that sounded distinctively like suggesting muggleborns didn’t deserve to be at Hogwarts, but I let it go. That boy was a hundred per cent certain to buy into the shit Voldemort would peddle, perhaps even more so that James Potter would devour the crap Dumbledore preached. However, that didn’t mean that if the opportunity to not just put down but outright embarrass Carrow arose I wouldn’t take it. Perhaps even via his sister, Alecto.

  I turned my focus to the next student summoned by the Deputy Headmistress, interestingly a Miss Lucy Evans who was from the Established House of Evans. I’d already spoken to Lily about the situation that would occur if the current Lord, Edgar didn’t accept her into his House, and assured her that if he didn’t I would adopt her into mine as a vassal.

  Her parents hadn’t liked the concept of vassals and being subservient to someone based on a name, but they had no choice in accepting the matter. Muggle opinions were worth less than that of any beast or creature in the magical world no matter what a small section of society might believe. Indeed, the potential that Lily might have to become Lily Nemo would help the charms Kadic had cast over the Evans household to slowly drive a wedge between Lily and her muggle family.

  It was underhanded to break up muggleborn families over magic, but I knew that the path I wished to walk needed the muggleborns to understand that their families didn’t see them as they should. Bradley was the first I had begun that process on, but Lily with her potential to be the brightest witch of her generation, was the prize I sought to gain, and with Dumbledore not aware of her potential currently, I would do everything I could to gain her loyalty before he had the chance to sink his ancient claws into her mind.

  As Lucy Evans was sorted into Ravenclaw – something that might be of use to me via áine if she was sorted there as I expected – I let my thoughts drift again. Of the remaining students, the ones that would have my focus would be – outside of áine, her cousins and mine in Slàine Lambert – Potter, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Severus Snape. The rest were, for now, little more than names to add to the book in my mind of students and staff at Hogwarts. Perhaps some would be of use in the future, but for now, they were just background figures along the path I was crafting.

  … …

  … …

  A few hours after the Welcoming Feast, as the new Slytherin First Years were being led by the prefects to their rooms and after Professor Morgan explained to them, I walked along with all of the Second Years as we were led down one of the corridors on the other side of the entrance antechamber in the Slytherin chambers. We had gained access to this corridor, or at least some of it after the Winter Solstice break last year, but now we were able to see the rest.

  Finn Dalcassin, who was the senior prefect in Slytherin now that Serena Rowle had graduated and neither the Head Boy nor Head Girl was from Slytherin, guided us into the first room that was beyond the point we’d been able to pass last year. My eyes quickly took in the shape and layout of the room and determined it was a duelling and sparring room. Or one that could also be used for that along with training in the rooms we had gained access to in First Year.

  “This, along with the rooms further down the corridor,” he began once all the hundred students in our year had entered the circular room, “is one of the junior year training facilities. Here you can practise more advanced magic, both those learnt in class, from books in the Great Library, or even from elsewhere. At least so long as whatever is cast is not classified by the Ministry as Dark Magic or outlawed.” There were a few chuckles from my yearmates, and I suspected that many if not all knew or had been shown spells the Ministry classified as Dark. If any were foolish to display them in a public location such as this, at least not without those present also displaying such magic, then they were fools unworthy of our house.

  “These rooms are also where you can duel with your fellow Slytherins.”

  “I demand a duel with MacLeod!”

  I rolled my eyes at the words and the fact they came from Amycus Carrow. Even as many turned to face me, I ignored the heir to House Carrow and kept my focus on Finn. The Seventh Year’s eyes narrowed as he sought out the speaker. “First, if your father, Lord Carrow, has not yet explained the need for decency in public, I fear for the future of your House.” The comments drew chuckles, more than when Finn had mentioned the rules regarding the usage of Dark Magic. “Second, ten points from Slytherin for interrupting a prefect while they are explaining the rules.”

  At that, along with most of the year, I turned to face Carrow. While the deduction of points was minor, and unlike many I placed little importance on the School Cup, the fact the first shift in points for our house – or any house for that matter – was the deduction of ten points was disappointing. Honestly, I was beginning to think Carrow was brain damaged as he had yet to display the cunning and intelligence that I would expect from a future Lord.

  As Carrow slunk in on himself, Finn coughed, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “Before I was so rudely interrupted, as I was about to say. Duelling with your yearmates, be that wand or blade, can be done only after the introductions to the relevant clubs take place. Those will happen during the week while the First Years acclimatise to Hogwarts. The rules of how to conduct yourself in a duel, if they have not already been explained to you by your families and tutors, will be done at those club introductions.

  “What I will say is that, from Second Year onwards, your standing within those clubs, particularly when duelling with a wand, will along with your schoolwork and grades determine the top five students in your year from here on out. Now, before any of you think of deciding to openly challenge one of the top boys or girls in your year,” he glanced in the direction of Carrow with a pointed glare before continuing, “understand that the table of positions for the start of Second Year, and every subsequent year after, is determined by your position in that table. To move up, you can only challenge someone ten or fewer positions above you. Thus, for those of you in the lower half of the table, there will be no challenging the top five until you prove yourself worthy.”

  I chuckled at that, enjoying the gentle dig at Carrow as he had been one of the poorest Slytherin students last year. Now, he was still above most of the students from the other houses, particularly the muggleborns, but his performance was, compared to those expected of a Slytherin, unbecoming.

  Assuming I didn’t fall out of the top five – something I would be making damn sure didn’t happen – and that he won every duel he created, then it would take Carrow dozens of victories to even reach a point where he could challenge me. Given that everyone above him would be fighting to earn that right, or at least the right to challenge the other four top boys, then I suspected I’d not face a challenge from Carrow until at least the end of the semester, if not after the Winter Solstice break.

  “Also, so that you do not interfere with the work of your housemates, you are limited to requesting a single duel a week, and can only be challenged twice in a week.” Finn’s extra nugget only made my smile grow, as now it would be sometime near the Spring Break before I had to worry about a challenge from Carrow. Or at least an official one as I suspected that he, along with those who gathered with him, might try and target me if they could. Such an attack, if successful, would imply I was weak and unworthy of my position. “If anyone is discovered carrying out duels outside the provided chambers, either here or in the duelling corridor, then all parties will be given a week’s detention and see upwards of a hundred points deducted from the house.”

  He left it there, but what was not said was interesting, and not entirely unexpected. Duels outside the designated locations were seemingly expected, but getting discovered was not. That, perhaps, was what Draco had used against Harry in the other timeline and something I would have to be wary of. There was the potential that if someone were challenged outside an accepted location, that refusal could be seen as a weakness which invited attack. It might also be the case that the challenger brought companions, and when it was the word many against one, it was hard for the professors to side with the individual.

  Finn turned there and began explaining the various pieces of equipment in the room. I knew just by seeing them what they were and their functions, though I suspected that the ones here were similar to items in the general training rooms in Dunscaith and not those reserved for the Chief and his direct family. However, I would only be able to determine that once I used them, though as I had access to my castle via the Vanishing Cabinet in my chest, I would not be training here often, nor wandering around the castle alone as much as I had done in First Year.

  It seemed that the protections given to those new to the school were no longer available to me, meaning I would have to be doubly cautious of my actions while out and about.

  … …

  … …

  I stood with almost every student in my year as we gathered in the Great Hall. It was only the second evening back at Hogwarts for our Second Year, but this was the meeting I was most looking forward to. Judging from the symphony of whispers and murmurs it seemed that sentiment was shared by my yearmates, or at least most of them.

  I didn’t have a full headcount, but it appeared as if around three hundred and fifty of the four hundred students in my year were present. All of Slytherin was here, with the same seemingly true for Gryffindor. Ravenclaw seemed, at first glance, to be the house with the few students present, which given the tendencies of the house, and how they could become engrossed in whatever demanded their attention and focus, made some sense.

  The loudest group were the Gryffindors, the lions their usual boisterous selves. Now, all the houses were excited, but while Slytherins were maintaining, as best we could, our composure, the lions weren’t even trying, and their influence was rubbing off on many of the badgers and eagles.

  The voices died down quickly as the main doors to the Great Hall opened and in walked eight professors. I recognised Professor Doe from Charms last year along with Professor Dewar from DADA and Professor Churchward as he was one of the Slytherin Professors. The only other Professor I recognized, simply because of his stature, was Professor Flitwick. I’d not had any classes with him, but a half-goblin tended to stand out in a crowd. Well, when you could see them.

  “If I might have everyone’s attention,” an older man called out, causing the noise in the Hall to drop to the point I was sure I could hear Xeno snoring from my bed in the Slytherin Chambers. “I am Professor Donnellan, head of the Defence Against the Dark Arts department, four-time British wand-duelling Champion, one-time European duelling Champion, and the Professor in charge of both the wand and sword duelling clubs within Hogwarts.”

  I nodded, finally able to place a name to the professor mentioned by those in Care of Magical Creatures when they had met Xenocrates. Still, I was uncertain why the fact Xenocrates would be capable of projecting lightning to strike his foes would interest a DADA professor.

  “With me, to my left, are Professors Doe, Buckland, and Millward. Each of you has had at least one of them for either Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, or Transfiguration in your First Year. On my right are Professor Flitwick, like myself a multiple-time duelling champion, Professors Dewar, Churchward, and Yohe. Before I cover the various rules of the wand duelling club and the expectations we place upon any member, let me be very clear: Our word is law. If we, for any reason, within the confines of the hours assigned to the duelling club tell you to do so something, we expect it to be obeyed without question. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, Professor,” I replied along with about half the students gathered in the Hall.

  Am. I. Clear?” There was no increase in the Professor’s volume, but the air around the Hall bristled with intent and power as he allowed a hint of his control to slide into the air.

  “Yes, Professor!” This time everyone, or nearly everyone as I swore I saw a group of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs giggling instead of answering, responded.

  Professor Donnellan’s eyes moved to the same group of students that I felt hadn’t responded. “You six, come forward.” The group hesitated as everyone turned to face them. “Now!” Again, there was no increase in volume, nor outwardly display of anger at not being obeyed, but the air crackled with threat.

  The six students shuffled forward slowly, even as everyone else, including their housemates, eased away from them not wanting to be caught in the Professor’s impending rage.

  “Names.” The group provided their names slowly. I remembered them all from the end-of-term and year tables but otherwise, none was of any importance. Not least as all were in the lower half of the year and didn’t seemingly stand out in any class I was interested in. “Thank you. You are all now dismissed from this and the sword duelling club.” The group looked at Professor Donnellan in confusion. “Do I have to repeat myself and thus deduct a hundred points from each of you.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Outwardly I stayed unresponsive, but internally I grimaced. The punishment was severe, perhaps too much, but it seemed that this Professor was something of a hard arse, and thus not someone I wanted to be on the bad side of both in this club and elsewhere.

  The six students hesitated still as if not quite understanding why the Professor was being so strict. Truthfully, I felt he was perhaps going too far too quickly, but I could see his logic. Dealing with a new group of students each year when overseeing two of the clubs most likely to end up with someone in the Medical Ward would grate on most people’s nerves. The hard-arse approach would, I assumed, limit the number of times he or the other Professors involved in the club had to deal with unruly or disobedient students.

  “Ten points.” Professor Donnellan’s words echoed around the hall. “Twenty,” he added when the six students still hadn’t moved. Though as he said, “thirty”, they shifted, bound for the nearest door. Which unfortunately was the one blocked by Professor Donnellan and the other staff members. “Do you seek to push your way past me? Forty.”

  Behind him, even as the students looked around, seeking the quickest exit from the Great Hall, I saw a few of the other Professors – specifically, Doe, Flitwick, and Yohe – look concerned or less than impressed by Donnellan’s approach. However, none of them spoke up.

  Once the six students were out of the Hall, the Professor turned back to us, fixing us with a harsh glare. “With those delinquents having departed, I can resume explaining how the wand duelling club operates.” As he spoke, his gaze swept over the gathered students and I suspected that if he could, some would combust with just a glare. “We shall meet three times a week. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings at six sharp. If you are late by a minute then you will not be granted entrance to the duelling corridor. The location of said corridor will be revealed to you later.

  “Each session of the duelling club will last for two hours. Outside of extenuating circumstances that have to be explained to one of the Professors at the club that evening, you will not be allowed to depart before the time has expired, nor will you be allowed to remain in the corridor beyond five minutes after the club ends. Doing so the first time will result in twenty points from your house and one day’s detention. Penalties will increase each time until it is determined your focus is no longer on the club, in which case you will join your yearmates that I just dismissed in being barred from the club. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, Professor.” This time there was no hesitation from those of us that remained in the Hall. Everyone had cottoned onto the fact that Professor Donnellan wasn’t just a hard arse, but someone who placed immense importance on the rules and expected them to be obeyed at all times.

  Professor Donnellan’s eyes roamed over all of us as if seeking any who seemed to be lying about accepting the rules he’d just laid down. “Excellent. In that case, it is my privilege to inform you that the wand duelling club gathers on the fourth floor of the West Tower.”

  I blinked as my mind heard his words and my memories altered. I shook my head, one hand coming to my temple as I realised that there was a fourth floor in that tower, though only a few moments ago I hadn’t realised there was a fourth floor. Or more accurately, that the floor I thought was the fourth floor was actually the fifth floor.

  “Bloody hell,” I muttered as I understood that the location of the duelling club was hidden by something similar to a Fidelius charm. Experiencing how that worked was a little unnerving as magic was actively altering my memories without my permission, and in the case of the charm being active at first, my knowledge. Yet, I couldn’t deny it was also exhilarating to experience one of the potentially most powerful charms in the lore in action.

  The Fidelius charm was on the list of magic I wished to learn, but so far I’d found little on how it worked, never mind how to cast it or what preparation was required beforehand. At least now I knew it existed in this world, and knew the time spent searching for it wasn’t in vain.

  “You all now know where the club is located? Good.” My focus, along with almost everyone else in the Hall, returned to Professor Donnellan. “Follow me and we shall continue the introduction within the main room of the corridor. Or at least the main room that you shall be using until you enter Fifth Year and begin preparing for your OWLs.”

  With that, the Professor turned, doing so with a sharp pivot on the heel of one foot and the ball of the other. A military-style turn that suggested he might well have served in the Aurors, or even in the forces that fought in the Wizarding World War.

  “What was that spell?”

  “I believe it was a Fidelius or something that invokes similar effects.” The question and answer came from Angus MacLean and Lasadh Astra, respectively. Angus had replaced Amycus Carrow in the top five males in Slytherin for our year, and while I knew him from Clan Gatherings and had worked with him in potions last year, I wasn’t particularly familiar with him. He was, like most Slytherins, reserved with his comments and opinions, preferring to stay back and watch before speaking. At least when not willing to admit his knowledge was lacking, as in the case of the Fidelius Charm.

  The fact Angus shared the same name with his cousin, who was now in Seventh Year, a Ravenclaw, and the heir of the heir to Clan MacLean was amusing but not an uncommon thing. When Clans and Houses were as large as some in our world, repeated names were to be expected. Merlin, there were four Donald MacDonalds in Hogwarts, or so I was led to believe, with the most recent being a muggleborn sorted into Hufflepuff this year.

  That Lasadh knew of the Fidelius Charm wasn’t a huge surprise. While getting to know him in First Year it had become clear that he had an interest in rituals and similar branches of magic. Such things weren’t taught in the first few years of school, if at all, but the Fidelius certainly qualified as a ritual even if it was classed as an extremely advanced and difficult-to-cast charm.

  “Nice to see some of the mudbloods kicked out.”

  I rolled my eyes at the quietly said statement. Of course, my second cousin – through my mother’s side of the family – Ruarc O’Conor, would make such a comment. He was one of those who still gathered around Amycus, the group of about twenty holding blood purity ideals that would make all useful minions for Voldemort in the coming years. Thankfully, unlike Amycus, Ruarc wasn’t in line to become a member of the Wizengamot. Not unless his two older siblings died before either could have children.

  “Twenty points from Slytherin and a week’s detention.”

  I turned at the new voice and saw one of the Professors, Millward, had moved closer. Ruarc shifted as if he was going to say something but a hard look from the Professor silenced my distant cousin, saving him from losing more points from our house. Already we were down thirty because of him and Amycus and classes hadn’t yet started. Not an encouraging start.

  I considered trying to cover for my cousin but decided against it. I already had issues within Slytherin for being friendly to several muggleborns, and while Bradley and Andrew’s performances in the end-of-year tests last year had helped soothe some of those tensions, I didn’t wish to reignite them. Not before I figured out a safe way to interact with Lily that didn’t appear to show me displaying any favouritism towards muggleborns, or allowed a genuine opening for those like Ruarc and Amycus to suggest I was pro-muggle.

  First Year had been about getting settled in Hogwarts and determining as best I could where at least everyone in my year in Slytherin lay in their opinions on several important matters. That hadn’t gone as well as it would’ve in other houses as Slytherins weren’t willing to be overly open with their standing on various matters with those they barely knew. However, I felt I had a good read on my serpent yearmates, or at least most of them, and could now consider building the foundation of a group that would be useful or loyal to me in the coming years.

  We left the Great Hall slowly, the sheer number of students that had to move ensured that fast movement wasn’t possible. As we walked, I spoke with those around me, the other four top boys in our year. Vesta Malfoy and the other top girls moved over to join us, a common occurrence since the Welcoming feast. I did notice that generally, each girl seemed to gravitate around one or two of the boys, almost as if they were trying to mark their claim to us. However, that was perhaps me over-analysing the matter.

  Betrothals could be officially listed once both parties were thirteen, meaning by the end of the year many of my yearmates might find themselves in such an agreement. It made sense that the girls were scouting out potentially useful partners, either because they were drawn to power – like all Slytherins could be – or because their Chief, Lord, or parents had suggested they seek a good match for themselves in our year. Many perhaps, both boy and girl, already had agreements made for their hand; the details arranged by their Chief or Lord, but until those were made official, and the conditions of their betrothal announced along with it, then there was no harm in seeking out potential matches.

  What made it worse for me, in theory, was that I had the unique position of deciding if I would be betrothed to anyone and the terms involved. I knew the matter would come up at some point during the year, and already had several dozen ways to deflect the issue for the time being, but to me, it was only going to be a distraction from other goals. Still, as Vesta slipped closer to me, though without entering my personal space, I wondered if she was trying to stake her claim for me.

  I did recall receiving a letter from her father, Lord Abraxas, proposing that I spend time with his daughter to see if we might become friends, however, I had declined the offer. Just as I had with every other Chief or Lords that suggested such playdates. The only girls I spent any time around growing up were either members of House Black, my cousin áine and her friends, or the children of the other Clans that came to the Gathering of the Clans each summer.

  Regardless of what, if anything, developed with Vesta, I was allowing her company as it potentially offered me a route closer to her family. Specifically, her brother. Provided things played out as they had in the other timeline, House Black and House Malfoy would be joined via Narcissa and Lucius. As I was known to be close to Lord Arcturus, and at least until his sorting, believed to be friends with Sirius, it made sense to cultivate a friendship with the Malfoys. At least until I could confirm if Lucius and his father were blood purists or if there was a chance to pull them away from Voldemort and gain their support for the path I wished to take our country, and then the world.

  Eventually, we reached the West Tower and began the slow ascend of the stairs to the fourth floor. As I reached it, I couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that because of the Fidelius charm, I’d never questioned why there was a small landing that went nowhere here. My mind was abuzz with trying to determine if other such landings or sections of passageway ended oddly elsewhere in the castle. Yet, as I entered the corridor, the other top students in Slytherin around me, I pushed those thoughts to one side. I had more than enough time to consider the issue in the coming months. For this evening, my focus should and would return and then remain on the duelling club.

  Slowly we filtered into the first room on the left of the corridor, though I noticed that there were no doors visible on the right side of the corridor. Perhaps they were still hidden because they were for older students or another club such as sword duelling.

  The room we followed Professor Donnellan into was, like many in the castle, it was far larger on the inside and while the reference would be lost on anyone not aware of the muggle show, I couldn’t help the faint flicker of a smile that came to my face whenever I had that thought. It was generally circular and while I couldn’t see much of it, given I was in a throng of bodies, I noticed several long platforms in the centre of the room.

  Behind me, the door closed and then rather loudly locked into place. As it did, Professor Donnellan stepped onto one of those large, long platforms, followed by the other professors and three members of the school’s medical wing. One of several in the room that was used for duelling. “Now that you have all joined the wand duelling club, it is time that you familiarise yourself with the rules,” he began, his voice as firm as ever.

  “Rule One: The word of the Professors is not to be challenged, ignored, or dismissed. What we say is final and there shall be no route to challenge our rulings where it pertains to the club and the actions taken within it.

  “Rule Two: If, for any reason, a member of the medical staff,” he paused and gestured to one side of the platform where that trio were gathered, “orders you to do something, you will obey without question. Failure to heed their advice will not only result in dismissal from the club but the potential for detention or even suspension.

  “Rule Three: For members of the junior branch of the club, a duellist is considered victorious once they have scored three strikes against their opponent. A strike is defined as successful if it disrupts the opponent’s stance or shield. Disrupting the casting of a spell or charm, be it offensive or defensive in nature, is not considered a strike. Merely a sign that you have taken control of the flow of the duel. Strikes will be signalled by the Professor or senior member of the club overseeing your duel and their ruling is final.

  “Rule Four: A duel can end before three strikes are achieved by either combatant. At any time in a duel, if you feel a need to do so, you may yield the duel by declaring ‘Stop’ or ‘I yield’. There is no shame in ending a duel when it is clear you are outmatched, or there is another matter that forces you to surrender. However, repeated use of such a tactic will display cowardice and a failure of skill and improvement on the duellist’s part.

  “Rule Five: While you are in the junior branch of the club the spells available to you are highly restricted. Only some of the spells learnt in those four years are acceptable. The usage of elemental casting or transfiguration is prohibited and the usage of any such spell will result in the automatic loss of a duel. This is to encourage you to focus on your core techniques before adapting any magic that you have affinities towards.

  “Rule Six: The only shield spell that is permitted in the junior branch of the club is the standard shield spell you will learn. The version taught to you this year is the Aegis Charm. The incantation and uses of this charm will be explained in your classes in the coming weeks. Not advanced forms of the Aegis Charm, nor advanced shields to variants are permissible in the club.

  “Rule Seven: There will be no physical contact while you are members of the junior branch of this club. While it is allowed on professional duelling circuits to attack your opponent physically and is permissible in the senior branch of the club, it is considered a failing of the wizard or witch to have to rely on such primitive methods to achieve success.

  “Rule Eight: For duels in the junior branch of the club, they will initially take place upon a platform such as the one I and my fellow staff members are standing upon. After the Winter Solstice break, you will be placed in the charts with the Third and Fourth Years. At that point, the basic duelling arena will be used for ranking duels. That arena is little more than a large, empty circular floor. The reason it is used is to encourage the development of foundational duelling skills without needing to concern yourselves with environmental distractions.”

  He stopped there, his eyes watching the gathered students like a hawk surveying a field full of prey. “Violation of any of these rules will carry punishments ranging from suspension from the club and detention to outright expulsion. I will not tolerate reckless or dangerous behaviour within my domain. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, Professor!”

  He nodded, seemingly pleased with our response. “Excellent. Now, regardless of whether you are aware of the rules and customs that encompass the challenge and acceptance of a duel, we will be reviewing them here. These rules extend not just into the senior branch of this club, but onto the British duelling circuit and beyond. No one will duel you in a formal setting if you cannot or will not display the respect for our traditions.” As he spoke here, the rest of the Professors and the medical staff stepped down from the platform. All that is, except Professor Flitwick.

  As the pair moved to their respective ends of the platform, I stayed externally emotionless. Internally, even though I knew this would be, at best, nothing more than seeing the two Professors and former British duelling champions so the respect one needed to display to begin a duel, I couldn’t help but get a little giddy at seeing them in action. A sentiment I suspected was shared by almost all of those in the club with me.

  … …

  … …

  I walked down the corridors of Hogwarts, making my way towards the Great Library. It was the evening of my third day back at Hogwarts, and as classes for the day were over, I was heading to the library to meet up with Andrew MacLeod and Bradley Cooper. I’d not yet had the chance to speak with either boy as while I did share a class with each – DADA for Andrew, Herbology for Bradley – I sat with my fellow Slytherins. There were enough issues centred around my friendship and tutoring of the two muggleborns that I wished to limit any potential damage to my standing in my house that being friends with the pair might bring. Thankfully, both understood and accepted the situation, though Andrew was less comfortable about it than I since he came from a working-class background and his family was very much against the muggle upper class and aristocracy.

  I’d only learnt that at the end of last school year, and after speaking with Kadic on the matter, had determined that he could alter the charm he cast on Bradley and Lily’s homes to slowly change their families’ opinions about magic. If I’d just gone for such a charm over Andrew’s home, then it had the potential to raise warning flags with anyone who looked closely at the situation because of Andrew’s older brother. Now that I knew that his family was working-class, the charm that was cast on Andrew’s home was one designed to slowly have the parents there start equating wizards and witches with muggle nobles. I was uncertain if this approach would work, but it was worth experimenting on to see how useful it might be for later years.

  As I rounded one corner that took me nearer the Great Library, I slowed as I saw two familiar First Years. As I watched, I saw Sirius Black and James Potter loitering around, looking as if they were about to or had already gotten into trouble. Neither Remus Lupin nor Peter Pettigrew were with them, but given the four had only just started Hogwarts, it would be shocking if the Marauders had formed inside the first few days.

  “Black, Potter,” I said firmly, trying to mimic a more mature voice, “what are you two doing lurking around here?”

  The pair tensed at my tone and words, and I smirked as they turned around slowly as if fearful of who was behind them. “Oh, bloody hell, Dòmhnall,” Sirius blurted out as he realised it was me, “you almost gave me a heart attack!”

  I chuckled. “I would never do such a thing. Not when it would please your mother,” I added, making him wince at the mention of Walburga. “Nor when I have to face your cousins in Slytherin.”

  Sirius barked out a single burst of laughter. “Eh, I’m not sure they would mind. I don’t think my family is happy with me for being in Gryffindor.”

  I didn’t bother hiding a snort of amusement. “Oh, I’m aware, as is most of the first three years. The howler she sent was… offensively loud.” That had arrived this morning, and I hadn’t enjoyed hearing Walburga’s irritating wail echo around the Great Hall for nearly five minutes. The howler had ended not because she was finished berating her son for not being in Slytherin but Gryffindor when Deputy Headmistress McGonagall had come over and obliterated the letter. She’s then taken Sirius from the hall, seemingly unaware – or likely uncaring – of how such an action would look to others, particularly those in Slytherin so she could speak with him privately. “Sorry you had to endure that.”

  For a moment, Sirius had a faraway look in his eyes. Almost as if he were lost in memories of happier times with his family. Or possibly considering how the rest of his family felt about the matter. I didn’t know if Arcturus or others had reached out to him about his Sorting, but it was probable none were pleased with him being a lion.

  “Eh, she doesn’t care about Sirius,” James interrupted, giving his friend a gentle punch on the shoulder, “and who cares what that old bag says?”

  “Sadly, Sirius has to,” I countered, seeking a chance to at least ensure Sirius didn’t become an enemy for the next few years. “He does have to return home for the Winter Solstice, though if you’d prefer to not deal with that… woman, you could stay at Dunscaith. I’m sure your grandfather would be amenable to it.”

  After a moment of shock from the pair, Sirius smiled at my offer and opened his mouth to reply only for James to wrap an arm around his friend and pull him closer. “Why would he want to stay at your smelly, old, and cold castle when he could stay with me and my family at the Potter Estate?” James countered, a flicker of annoyance on his face for a moment before he pushed it away. “And he could join us on our family holiday.”

  Sirius’ eyes widened at hearing the second offer and he looked at James. My response was more measured. I lifted one eyebrow before replying. “A generous offer, but I was under the impression that inviting anyone to a family’s estate required the word of the Chief or Lord. Unless something horrible has befallen your family, you are several decades away, at best, from becoming Lord Potter.”

  James scowled again, making clear his distaste for me. Honestly, I didn’t care what he thought about me. All I wanted was to maintain a cordial friendship with Sirius, and James, by acting like some scorned lover, was only making this interaction that much more enjoyable for me.

  “I know my grandfather will be fine with it. He’s never had a problem with Sirius coming over before.” I nodded, accepting his words. Lord Charlus had indeed been fine with Sirius visiting, and that would continue once Fleamont became Lord. I didn’t know exactly how that would affect the relationship between Houses Black and Potter, however, that was a matter for them to determine. “Besides, why would Sirius want to change one family of snakes for another?”

  “You do realise that your grandmother was a Slytherin, while my mother was from Ravenclaw?” I countered before continuing so he couldn’t retort, “Or that my only remaining direct family, my cousins Magnus and Tallula, are both in Ravenclaw?” I tutted and shook my head. “And here I thought someone destined to lead his House would be more aware of the status of other Clans and Houses. I understand the topic is incredibly dry, but it is still something that is expected within any house seated in the Wizengamot.”

  “Oh, shut up!” James snapped back. “You sound like my grandfather!”

  “Why thank you.” My response was accompanied by a small bow. “While my opinions on many matters might differ from Lord Charlus’, he is considered by almost all as a wise and intelligent Lord.” I was glad for my Occlumens training, as the way James’ face was heating up as I spoke only served to further infuriate him.

  Noticing that Sirius was losing some of his happiness at the two offers he’d just received, I returned my focus to him before James could recover. “Regardless of whether you accept Potter’s offer or not, the doors of Dunscaith will remain open to you so long as we can continue to call each other friends,” I said with a smile; one that Sirius returned.

  “He doesn’t need you!” James snapped, pulling himself between myself and Sirius. “He wants nothing to do with a snake like you!”

  I blinked, caught out by the animosity that James was displaying. I knew we weren’t friends, nor would we ever be, but this almost irrational anger at me even talking with a distant cousin, and someone I’d grown up around was, in all honesty, pathetic. If this was what he had been like for most of his time at Hogwarts, I could understand why the Lily in the other timeline had been repulsed by him until the later years. Morgana’s tits, I struggled to understand how he changed from this into a man everyone who ever spoke to Harry referred to in glowing terms.

  “What are you doing out here anyway?” James continued, showing some intelligence in shifting the topic away from one where his actions only embarrassed him. “Heading for a secret meeting of the pureblood supremacists?”

  I blinked, dismissing the idea I’d just had that he was being intelligent. Suggesting that I was off to a meeting of such a thing was frankly insulting. Yes, there was a section of our world that believed that, and I already knew a handful of students who held such thinking, but I was unaware that any group espousing those ideals existed in Hogwarts. That said, I couldn’t deny the possibility that one existed.

  “Dòmhnall!” The call of my name had me turning, and as I saw who had spoken, I didn’t bother hiding the smirk that wanted to creep over my face.

  “Hello Bradley, Andrew. I’d thought you’d be in the Library already,” I said as the pair of Second Year muggleborns came closer, my smirk slipping as I saw three others behind them.

  “We would’ve, but we had a few friends that wanted to ask you again for help,” Bradley explained, gesturing at the trio – two Ravenclaws, one Hufflepuff – behind them. “I know you said last year that you’d rather not tutor more people, but they wondered if you might have changed your mind.”

  My smirk returned as I heard his words. Not because of the idea that I might tutor three more muggleborns, or at least muggle-raised as one of the Ravenclaws – Jordan Wells – was similar to Severus, though his father was the wizard, not his mother. The other two were unknown, but their very presence gave me the perfect counter to James Potter’s frankly insulting question.

  I turned back to the pair of First Year Gryffindors and allowed my smirk to evolve into a smile. “Actually, James, I was heading to meet up with two students I’ve been helping adapt to our culture, though it seems I was earlier than I had realised.” I gestured at the two who’d just arrived on the scene. “This is Bradley Cooper and Andrew MacLeod. Both are muggleborn wizards new to the magical world.”

  My smile grew as James’ eyes widened and his mouth slipped open slightly. Sirius was as shocked as his friend but for entirely a different reason. He knew me better, but from all our interactions over the summer while in Sparta and Memphis, I’d never once stated any interest in the muggle world or their ideals. Yet here I was admitting openly to tutoring, and in essence, being friends with two muggleborns. Something few if any Slytherins would ever consider much less do.

  “Codswallop!” James responded after he’d processed my words. “They can’t be muggleborns! He’s,” he pointed at Andrew, “got your name.”

  “I have the same family name, aye, but my parents don’t have magic,” Andrew replied. “Unlike either of you, I wasn’t able to prepare for Hogwarts before arriving, or know the way the magical world worked.” There was a slight edge to his words as if he resented the pair of purebloods before him for having lived in the magical world, but I wouldn’t know for certain until I spoke with him later. “And unlike the purebloods in either our house or Ravenclaw, Dòmhnall chose to help us learn how this world works, and the dangers we face simply because we share a name with power in the Wizengamot.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” Bradley replied to Sirius’ question. “I met Dòmhnall while I was getting my books for Hogwarts, and he helped me learn some things about this world that I’d never have known otherwise. Why is that so strange to you?”

  “B-because he’s a snake!” James blurted out, his animosity towards my house once more rearing its head. I wasn’t sure where his issues came from, but already I could tell he was the one that made the Marauders target Slytherin students more than others with their pranks. Something that I suspected would help feed the division between the houses as Voldemort rose to prominence.

  “So?”

  I watched, even with my advanced for my age training in Occlumency, struggling to contain the amusement I felt as James’ mouth shifted but no sound came out. It was as if his mind simply couldn’t process the concept that not all Slytherins were, in his mind, blood supremacists and thus evil.

  “I should also tell you that there is a girl in your house, a Miss Lily Evans, who I’m friends with as well,” I added, seeing a moment where I could drive a greater wedge between James and Lily and thus ensure he never became worthy of her affection. “I met her and a halfblood who is now in Slytherin, Severus Snape, in Diagon Alley during the Winter Solstice break last year. If I discover that you’ve been badmouthing me to her or others, or even annoying and angering her with your opinions about me, then we will be having words.” My tone, while weakened by my age and the fact my voice hadn’t yet broken, made clear that the words we’d be having would be those used to cast spells.

  Potter might be too young to join the duelling clubs – though I had yet to have the introduction to the sword duelling club which would be tomorrow evening – but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be targeted. I’d just have to ensure that I wasn’t seen or caught by anyone if I went after him and that anything done to him wouldn’t leave permanent scarring. Well, physical scarring at any rate.

  “But… You… How…”

  As James struggled to put his jumbled thoughts into words, and Sirius watched with confusion of his own, I turned to my fellow Second Years. “Shall we?”

  Bradley and Andrew moved forward, the trio behind them a step or two slower to react, and I walked with my friends, or as much as I might consider muggleborns that I was using for experiments, friends, towards the library. I offered Sirius a final smile and nod as I passed – something he returned – but ignored Potter. That boy was going to be a fucking problem, and unfortunately, he was too young for me to deal with directly. At least currently if I wished to remain clear of Dumbledore’s attention.

  “What an arrogant sod.”

  I chuckled at Bradley’s words once we were clear of the pair of First Year Gryffindors even as Andrew agreed. “Be glad you don’t share a house with him,” the muggleborn Scot added with a grumble. “Barely three days into the year and he’s already pissing off many in my house with his antics. Thinks he’s God's gift to the world.”

  “Only in his small, narrow-minded mind, could Potter be anything but a prat,” I said. “I’d warn you to be careful of him and his quote-unquote opinions, but I suspect he’s not the only lion who has issues with my house.”

  Andrew nodded, confirming again that he’d had some pushback from those in Gryffindor at allowing me to educate him on the magical world. From what I’d learnt from the pair, tutoring, or at least as it was done in Slytherin wasn’t offered to many students. Certainly not muggleborns.

  While many had, and still did, harbour concern about me, a pureblood in Slytherin helping muggleborns, most of the issues had died down with the performance of Bradley and Andrew last year. Merlin, several other students raised in the magical world were now helping other muggleborns, so it seemed my actions had sparked something unexpected. I had no idea how this experiment would play out – both in changing the opinions of my fellow students and slowly driving Bradley and Andrew from their families and into my clutches – but so far it was showing signs of bearing fruit.

  As for the trio of students behind us, I was uncertain if I would tutor them. The more muggleborns I took an interest in the greater the odds that some in my house and elsewhere might challenge me, and not to a simple duel. I was walking a fine line with my actions, not just with Bradley and Andrew but with Lily as well though few knew of that currently. However, I understood that to stand out from the two sides that would, around the time I finished Hogwarts, be forming for war, I needed to walk a different path. One that didn’t just thread the needle between them, but showed everyone a different path. A path that led to the future I wanted for our world.

  … …

  … …

  I looked around the wand duelling chamber, taking in that I was here again on the first Friday back at Hogwarts. However, I wasn’t here for wand duelling but for another of the clubs within Hogwarts, as were those present with me. While many were talking animatedly about the Quidditch try-outs this Sunday for open spots on the junior teams, I couldn't care less about that sport.

  Now, my opinions on flying on a broom had altered since my early days of learning to do so, and I now enjoyed the freedom and tranquillity that came from simply hopping onto my broom and then soaring high above the ground. However, regardless of whether I did that lazily and just took in the view or decided to swoop around as fast as I could, I had no interest in focusing my energy on Quidditch. The game was enjoyable enough to watch, and even play for fun at times with friends, but committing the time and effort towards something that I had no intention of pursuing out of Hogwarts, nor offered any true benefits to me with my plans for once I was an adult, made it a pointless endeavour to consider. And that was before considering that I wouldn’t be good enough to even make the reserves for the two junior Slytherin teams. Instead, my focus was on this club. The sword duelling club.

  Unlike with wand duelling, there were far fewer students present. It was almost all boys and those who’d been raised in the magical world. There were a few muggleborns amongst our number, but from what little I knew of most of them, all had grown up in upper-class muggle households. One or two even came from the landed gentry. That they would be interested in swords was hardly a shock, though Bradley’s presence here was unexpected.

  The Ravenclaw stood with his friends from his house, though some of the purebloods were keeping their distance. Almost as if they disliked being associated with him. I didn’t know if that was because he was known to be my friend or simply because he was a muggleborn, but it was something I’d have to investigate in the coming weeks. At least as much as I was willing to commit time and effort to the matter.

  The noise in the room died down as the doors to the room opened and then stopped entirely as Professor Donnellan led three others – Professors Knight, Yohe, and Buckland – into the room. There was a slight twitch from Professor Donnellan’s lips as we all fell silent awaiting his words, perhaps pleased that we remembered his strictness from the introduction class to wand duelling and understood the same formalities existed here.

  “I shall skip the niceties that I used for wand duelling,” Professor Donnellan began once he and the other three were closer, each with their hands clasped behind their backs. “Since none of you are as ill-behaved as those in the Great Hall on Wednesday, I see no need for the reminder save that the same rules regarding myself and the other Professors and the strength our words hold remains in effect.”

  He paused, his eyes taking in the roughly seventy people in the room. “While duelling with wands is something that almost all wizards and witches wish to learn, using something as seemingly primitive and muggle as a sword only draws those who understand the importance of respecting our traditions and the links that exist between the two. To those of you who were not born into this world, I am pleased to see you displaying interest in the culture of where you belong. However, I will expect the same level of dedication and commitment to using a blade as I would any born within the domain of magic.”

  Professor Donnellan paused there, taking another long look at those present in the room. “Beyond the importance of swords as a legacy of our culture, learning to wield a blade carries advantages when one is forced to fight to defend their lives and those of the people we care about.

  “Even with most wand-based duels taking place at a distance, the knowledge of how to use a blade still carries importance. Not just for if a duel devolves into close-range fighting, but also as a defensive means as many blades in our world are enchanted to deflect and repulse magical attacks. Through the usage of a blade, one can refine the motor control of their wrist and arm while also enhancing one’s awareness of the space around them and when and how to move with controlled measured strides.

  “In this club, while within the junior branch, you will be struck by blades. However, they are charms to not slice through your flesh but instead generate pain within the section of your body that is struck. A single strike will be enough to end a duel currently, and the generation of pain will be a signal to all that a blow has landed.”

  He paused there, the slightest flicker of movement from his lips, and gestured towards the door leading from this room designed for wand duelling. “The junior branch of the sword duelling club at Hogwarts is located across the hall from the wand duelling chamber.”

  As with the reveal of this room earlier in the week, I grimaced and placed a hand against my head. The knowledge of where the door was, and the fact I’d walked past it four times already, was revealed to my memories as the hiding charm used on the location was lifted. I’d suspected that was where the sword club was located but until now not had the confirmation.

  After recovering from the reveal of hidden memories, or at least that was how I was interpreting the sensation now that I’d experienced it twice, I looked around. Everyone else was in the same state while the Professors were sharing knowing smirks or amusement.

  “With the meeting chamber revealed, we shall move there now so that I can go over the rules of the club. At least those pertaining to the junior branch,” Professor Donnellan stated. He pivoted sharply, in a manner not reminiscent of a soldier, and led the other professors out of the room.

  As I followed after him, I wondered how I would do in this club. I felt reasonably certain that I’d be one of the better, if not the best wand duellist in my year, and that was before considering the flesh arrays carved into my body. So far only the one I’d carved at the beginning of the summer would be beneficial, or at least obviously so. However, the notes I had from the tome had, for what little I’d uncovered so far, suggested this one was based around enhancing me further. Some sort of increase to my durability or a general enhancement to increase my muscle and bone density. I expected that such an array accounted for the additional weight that would generate, but until I deciphered the markings in the tome and then crafted the array myself, I’d not be certain of that.

  I hoped to have the array figured out by the Winter Solstice break so I could apply it there. After speaking with my ancestors at the end of the summer, I’d come to believe that applying the various arrays, particularly those focused on enhancing my body, would work better and provide greater results if applied before, or during the initial stages of, puberty. All that, however, was a matter for later. For now, as I walked with the rest of the students present out of the room and across the hall, my focus was on the new club I’d joined and learning the rules of it. As with wand duelling, I intended to be the best in my year at it. Not just because it would help ensure my position at the top of my year within Slytherin, but so I gained the reputation within Hogwarts to expand my powerbase – not that there was much of one currently – beyond my house. Unlike Dumbledore and Voldemort, I wasn’t going to limit the pool I recruited from, though I wouldn’t be accepting just anyone into my inner forces.

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  A/N: Sorry for the delay on the chapter. The one responsible for giving the chapter a final lookover was overtaken with the idea of starting a 40k story.

  Also, there may well be delays next month as I will be in China for two months to see my wife and her family again. I hope to avoid them, but given how irritating/deranged the GFW is, I might not be able to access this and the other sites where I post chapters.

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