Chapter 35

AN: This chapter was Beta'd by Sedition. The guy was an incredible help in vital places, so huge gratitude to him.

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The tryouts for the Junior Dueling Tournament were held in the Great Hall. All the house tables were removed for the occasion, instead replaced by a long elevated platform placed in the center, leaving ample space on both sides for the Audience to sit and watch. Over the platform hung a sea of lit up candles, their glow just powerful enough to light up the platform without detracting the audience's vision, creating an adequate ambiance for both the duelists and their spectators.

Even though it was early afternoon, the Great Hall would've been dark without the candles, as the only window—the large one behind the staff-stage—was blocked with curtains to prevent its rays from distracting the duelers.

As soon as Harry and his party walked in, he was greeted with a familiar set of texts.

Quest [A Terror with a Wand I] in Progress!

Start your journey into the world of Dueling by qualifying for the Junior Dueling Tournament ( )

Qualify in the 1st round ( )

Qualify without losing Health ( )

After a quick glance, he dismissed it.

Some forty or so students were gathered around the platform, a few still trickling in through the entrance. They were all from first years, and stood in four groups according to their houses. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff stood to one side of the platform, while the other two houses stood opposite them.

He tried peeking over to his sister but the Slytherins were standing at the opposite corner, the farthest from the Gryffindors.

"Who's gonna run our tryouts, you reckon?" Ron asked, squinting at the doors.

Their group came to stand at the very back, almost touching the wall. Though curiously, Hermione was making a conscious effort to not appear a part of their group...while still standing close enough to act like she was.

She most likely wanted to leave, Harry wagered, but knew she had nowhere to go.

"Professor Lupin, of course." The bushy haired girl still answered. "While Professor Flitwick is a dueling champion, we didn't give our names to him."

"I'm fine with either, honestly." Andrea cut in. "Both are great teachers."

"I-I just hope it's not Snape." Neville shuddered, his voice quiet and squeaky as a mouse. "I don't even know why I'm here. Everyone knows I'm almost a Squib."

Harry frowned, glancing at the boy. As far he knew, the boy was one of the strongest in their class.

Neville Longbottom

Age: 11

Level: 12

Reputation: Liked

Affection: 75

Mana: 310/310

Health: 80/80

Stamina: 68/80

Neville was the only first year to be over level 10, except for him and Rose. Even in that, only 4 other kids were at level 10; Andrea, Susan, Greengrass, and surprisingly, Malfoy.

The problem wasn't with Neville. It was with his wand.

Ash Wand

Wood: Ash

Core: Unicorn tail hair

Compatibility: 36%

Loyalty: 3

Versatility: 3

Power: 5

The wand's match with Neville was worse than anything Harry had ever seen. Even his first wand was more compatible with him than this.

It truly was a sad sight. A powerful wizard like Neville, limited by the shackles he willingly wore.

A groan from Ron—and a few other students—took his attention, and he turned to see what the commotion was.

Their teachers had finally arrived; Remus Lupin and Severus Snape. While Remus was a welcome sight for many, almost all the Gryffs were disgruntled by Snape's presence.

But not him. Both were competent and strong wizards, as far as Harry was concerned.

As per tradition, he and Snape exchanged a mutual sneer of hatred before ignoring each other completely.

Remus walked up to the stage, clapping once to get their attention. "All of you are here? Good, good. Let's start immediately."

He came to stand at the platform's center, eyes taking all the present students. "The tournament follows the system of elimination—or knockout if you're familiar with it—where the loser of each match-up is eliminated immediately. There will be over 128 students competing, 98 of which have already been selected from second and third years."

"Which," Snape cut in. "for those dunderheads who failed to comprehend, means only thirty of you will be given a chance to compete. There are forty present amongst you, thus ten of you are unwanted. Which is why we have these tryouts, to clear those few who should rather have stayed in thei–"

"Thank you, Professor Snape. I'll take it from here." Remus interrupted, polite but firm.

Snape stilled, cold eyes shifting to Remus as he drawled in his trademark silky voice, "Of course."

"Your match-ups have been randomized." Remus continued, unbothered. "I will call your names and you will present yourself on stage to duel your opponent. The winners of the first round will get a direct entry into the tournament so don't hold back or try to save energy for your later fights. First, may I call upon— Dean Thomas of Gryffindor, and Pansy Parkinson of Slytherin!"

Harry observed them both as they climbed onto the stage.

Dean Thomas

Age: 11

Level: 9

Pansy Parkinson

Age: 11

Level: 8

Harry leaned forward, curious to see his classmates' skill. He paid barely any attention to them in classes, ignoring them entirely once he assessed their threat level.

Hence he was quite interested to see how they will utilize the spells in their repertoire. According to Snape, many a talented wizard could learn powerful magic, but only a few of them could ever hope to use it in a fight.

While they've only had about eight lessons of DADA and Dueling in the whole two weeks, Harry was hoping to learn whatever little he could from these tryouts.

So it came as quite an unpleasant shock when the participants struggled to fire even a single spell off of their wands.

They traced the entire wand movements slowly and steadily, each pronouncing their spells loud and clear, until finally, Dean shot off a bright 'Lumos' blinding Parkinson momentarily. 'Shot off' was quite generous. In actuality, the spell just lit his wand up, but Parkinson—who was staring directly at it—flinched away at the sudden flash to clutch her eyes, dropping her wand in the process.

As far as fights go, this may just have been one of the most pathetic ones out of all he'd laid witness to in a long, long time.

Remus sighed and called the match in Dean's favour.

Harry sighed and sat down on the floor, realizing he may have overestimated his classmates a little too much.

The next fifteen minutes passed in excruciating boredom. The only entertaining matchup in all this time came when Terry boot from Ravenclaw (Lvl 9), went up against Millicent Bulstrode of Slytherin (Lvl 7).

The boy successfully shot off 'Rictusempra', making Millicent bend over in laughter. But instead of surrendering, the girl ran towards a terrified Terry—laughing all the while from his spell's effect—and rammed into him like a crazed bull. Only Remus's well timed intervention stopped the giant girl from pounding the ever loving shit out of the much smaller boy.

The next interesting matchup came when Susan Bones (Lvl 10) went up against Theodore Nott of Slytherin (Lvl 9)

Excited whispers ensued all around him as the two participants took the correct dueling position, standing sideways with their wands held in front.

Susan was a touch faster than her opponent and managed to get off a quick knockback jinx before Nott could finish casting.

But the boy didn't move, nor did he interrupt his spell. Calm and unhurried, he simply leaned to one side and let the flash of light pass overhead.

Then, he finished tracing the wand movement and bellowed, 'Tarantallegra!'

It was clear both the duelists had some prior training as the girl repeated the same maneuver, leaning to a side and letting the spell pass over her.

"Rictusempra!" She bellowed next.

The dance went on for well over a minute, with both standing stationary—simply moving their upper body, until Susan managed to aim her next spell at Nott's hip. Instinctively, the boy leaned away again—not realizing the spell's new target until it was too late—and took a knockback jinx to the thighs, flipping through the air before dropping back down.

"Well done, both of you! Splendid performance!" Remus cried out with a wide smile. "And don't worry Mr. Nott. You will have another chance to get a position in the tournament. Now off you go."

"Next we have..." Remus stopped for a second, his eyes moving to settle upon him with subtle gravitas. "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

Truly, the fates were being quite cruel to Malfoy.

Though the boy didn't look nervous. No, if anything he had a determined, if slightly malicious, glint in his eyes, appearing quite eager for the match as he climbed up hurriedly.

Harry felt a flicker of curiosity but pushed it down, not willing to set himself up for further disappointment. Unless the boy brought out a machine gun as a secret Hydra recruit—in which case Harry will make himself scarce, Hogwarts be damned—the chances of this fight being anything but boringly one-sided were next to nil.

Harry climbed up the stage as well, absently raising a hand in acknowledgement to Ron and Andrea's good luck.

"Kick his arse, brother!" A familiar voice yelled out from the back of the crowd.

"Silence!" Snape yelled right back.

"Wands up!" Remus instructed, and their wands came to attention. "Bow of respect."

Harry bowed, while Malfoy smirked.

"Aaaand...Start!"

"Stupefy." Harry whispered, his wand slashing through the air.

But being level 37, the red stunner shot off on the first syllable 'Stu' itself.

"Serp—!"

The spell reached his opponent before he could do anything more than open his mouth, hitting him squarely on the chest, the force throwing him a few meters away with a thud.

A stunned silence ensued, as the crowd took in the unmoving body of Draco Malfoy with uncomprehending eyes.

"...Well," Remus stared with wide eyes, brows creasing up slightly. "…I believe we have our winner."

He shook his head, moving past his stupor. "Please give a round of applause for the fastest win of the day to…Harry Potter!"

And so they did.

Quest [A Terror with a Wand I] Completed!

Start your journey into the world of Dueling by qualifying for the Junior Dueling Tournament (X)

Qualify in the 1st round (X)

Qualify without losing Health (X)

Rewards: 500 XP

The rest of the matches went swimmingly for his group...bar Neville. Ron (Lvl 9) won against Wayne Hopkins of Hufflepuff (Lvl 8), having practiced some of the spells beforehand. The boy may not be able to do as well as him in studies, but he tried his best.

Apparently he feared Harry would dump him for someone smarter if he couldn't keep up.

Andrea on the other hand, was a shade better than her sister in dueling, dominating Sue Li of Ravenclaw (Lvl 9) quite thoroughly. Hermione won against Goyle— also the lowest leveled first year at level 6.

Unfortunately, Padma Patil (Lvl 9) wiped the floor with Neville, making him the only one from their group to not qualify.

His midget twin knocked out Michael Corners of Ravenclaw (Lvl 9), and most of her friends were able to qualify for the tournament as well.

Out of the thirty participants that were needed for the tournament, twenty were chosen in the first round itself. The remaining ten were to be chosen from the twenty students who'd lost. They were pitted against each other, and the winners entered the tournament alongside them.

One of the ten winners ended up being Malfoy, who managed to knock off Wayne Hopkins to make the list. As did Nott, whose bumbling opponent, Crabbe, resigned by himself.

"Brother!" His midget twin called out as they were dismissed for the evening, scurrying towards him—uncaring of whoever was unfortunate enough to come in her way. "I passed as well!"

She came to a stop in front of him, staring at him with wide eyes, waiting to be praised.

Harry raised his brows. "I would've been quite disappointed had you not, after everything I've done to prepare you."

The girl stamped down her foot unhappily. "But I won almost as fast as you! That has to count for something, doesn't it?"

She grinned up at him cheekily.

"It does." Harry nodded, staying silent for a second before speaking. "…You did well."

Her eyes widened, staring at him uncomprehendingly for a second, the cheeky smile slowly dropping off.

She stood there unmoving; mouth wide open, eyes trembling bewildered, only coming back into herself when Harry snapped his fingers in front of her face impatiently.

Shaking her head, she chuckled awkwardly. "T-thanks!"

Harry frowned. 'Wasn't she fishing for compliments? Or did I misunderstand something?'

He was beginning to understand more about children, and people in general, but some things were still alien to him.

One of those things was his sister.

"W-well," She started, fumbling for words. "…Are you going to join your house's quidditch team?"

Her change of subject was neither subtle nor smooth, and she flushed further when he raised a brow.

Nonetheless, he nodded. "I will indeed. Our try-outs are to be held tomorrow evening. The Gryffindor captain has booked the field for us, I believe."

"Well... that's great! But I'm going to be Slytherin's Seeker too. So we'll be against each other...not fair!"

"I never said I was trying out for the Seeker's position." Harry replied, letting a small smirk curve up his lips. "Perhaps being a Beater is more suitable for me..."

The girl's face paled rapidly, forgetting all about her earlier weirdness. "...Oh."

Harry snorted. "Relax, you. While I can't say anything for your teammates, you shall have nothing to fear."

He patted her head.

Can't have a competent minion with broken limbs after all.

The girl stared at her shoes. "...I s'pose."

He grunted, waving her goodbye. His sister was being a little too weird for his taste today.

Now all that was left was tomorrow's tryouts, and Harry was hoping for an even better quest.

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The next day, Harry made for the pitch with Ron and Andrea at his side. Neville wasn't willing to be anywhere near a broom again, while Hermione didn't wish to spend any more time with them than necessary.

Harry briefly wondered what was stopping her from going full solo, but realized she most likely did not wish to spend the rest of her time in Hogwarts alone. Not that being around them seemed to give her any peace or satisfaction.

Quest [A Terror in the Skies I] in Progress!

Start your journey into the world of flying by entering the Quidditch Cup ( )

Win a position in Gryffindor Quidditch team ( )

Score the highest in any test ( )

Win with a dominating performance ( )

Win without conflict or oppositions ( )

Harry dismissed the message, his eyes focusing elsewhere.

The quidditch pitch was a gigantic piece of land, almost double the size of a football field and covered in well-maintained grass that he wagered would be soft to his feet.

James wasn't lying when he said their pitch was much smaller in comparison. The group of students who currently occupied its center looked like grains of neatly stacked rice on a large plate, all standing in multiple lines with their brooms in hand. Around 25-30 hopefuls, from first years to a sixth year, were present for a chance at making the team.

"Are they not your brothers?" Harry elbowed Ron. The twins stood away from the rest, making their own group with two other girls.

"Oh yeah. Fred and George. You met them on the train, remember? They are Gryffindor's Beaters currently and I doubt that's going to change any time soon. They're bloody good with a bat."

"So, what position are you guys going for?" Andrea asked.

Ron hesitated for a second before shrugging uncomfortably. "Maybe substitute Keeper. Or Chaser. I'll take any position the team needs. What about you two?"

"Chaser." Andrea answered at once, before pointing at him. "Though with this guy over here I doubt our chances are good."

Harry shrugged. "Perhaps you will replace an older student?"

"Nah, mate. No chance." Ron shook his head. "My brothers' positions are fixed, and so is the captain's. Then there's Johnson and Spinnet, both Gryffindor veterans who've been playing for two years. No way is Wood gonna break their partnership. Our only chance is the remaining Chaser spot or go directly for the Seeker."

Andrea bumped him slightly. "You go for seeker, I'll go for Chaser. Deal?"

"And what am I?" Ron huffed irritably. "Chopped liver?"

"Well...you can be a reserve keeper right?"

Ron didn't get the chance to answer as the Gryffindor captain finally arrived.

Oliver Wood

Age: 15

Level: 30

Oliver Wood was a large, burly fifth year, who seemed to have a commanding presence on the pitch. Everyone instantly went silent as soon as he joined them.

"Alright, listen up!" The boy snapped, his eyes staring at them with a disturbingly bright fervor. "I want all of you to divide yourselves into three groups! Those who want to tryout for Chasers, come to my right. Those who wants to take a shot at Keeper, to my left. And the Seekers stand in front of me. We will be doing this one at a time, so no crowding over here."

"Well?" Andrea looked at Harry with raised eyebrows.

Ron, on the other hand, suddenly became a ball of wrecked nerves.

"I'm going for the Chaser." Andrea finally announced, separating away from them to join in with over half of the crowd at Wood's side.

"Mate...I don't think I can do this." Ron whispered with a growing despair.

Harry turned to him with a frown. "What do you mean?"

"I mean...What if I give the worst performance out of everyone?" He fretted, shuffling on his feet. "Bloody hell mate, I don't even know where I'll fit in! I should just go back..."

"…So, not being sure of your skill makes you give up entirely?" Harry tilted his head, trying to understand the boy. "Wouldn't that be an excellent reason to take this test instead? To see where you truly belong? Even should you prove to be the worst, at least you will be more certain of where you stand the next time."

Ron stopped shuffling, but his eyes still held that frustrated despair. "But what if I'm completely rubbish at this?"

Harry frowned. "Then next time you'll know not to try in the first place."

Ron's shoulder flopped down, even more discouraged. "…Thanks, mate."

"Or, you can train and improve yourself later." Harry shrugged. "But not trying will keep you uncertain for a long time. Simply competing for a spot will put you ahead of all the rest in our class. You can always try again next year, but at least you will have some experience after today."

That did not make him any more confident but he did seem to have calmed considerably. "…Yeah, at least I'm not like Dean and Seamus, not even bothering to try. And I'm a firstie anyway, no one expects me to be actually good. Even Charlie didn't become the Seeker in his first year."

Then with a last shaky nod, he joined the keeper's section.

'That…was not what I meant, was it?' Harry couldn't be certain. Whenever it came to emotions, his words were often misunderstood.

He was also beginning to understand that truth may not always be preferable to some.

To some….truth may be more hurtful than lies. A concept Harry couldn't quite wrap his head around. But with Sage's help, he was sure he would eventually.

He sensed a presence creeping up behind him a moment before it called out, "Harry Potter?"