Chapter 35: The Dueling Club

September 28th, 1976

For over seven days all of Hogwarts had been looking forward to this night. It was pretty much what every single student was talking about, be it in class, during lunch, or their free time. Now it was finally here... 'The reopening of the Hogwarts dueling club.'

Marlene glanced over the heads of her peers into the Great Hall, which was barely recognizable as it had been adjusted for the occasion. Thousands of candles floated much higher than usual and all four House Tables had been removed, allowing groups of students to wait at random spots all over the hall.

'Yet, that wasn't the biggest adjustment.' Up at the front, the staff table had been removed as well. In its stead stood what Marlene recognized as a dueling platform, stretching from one side of the Great Hall all the way to the other, measuring roughly four meters in its width.

"Looks like everyone's here already," Harry chuckled next to her.

"Indeed." Marlene frowned, looking at a bunch of first years, who were almost shaking in excitement. Since the headmaster had not specified an age limit for participating in the club, anyone with an interest in dueling had gathered here tonight. 

In other words: 'The entire castle...'

"Are you sure we might actually learn something here?" She nudged Harry in the side when she spotted a particular individual climbing up to the platform.

"Merlin, no..." Her boyfriend groaned. His eyes narrowed as they followed Edward Bletchley: "I can already tell this will be a waste of time. Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to have that moron teach us?!"

Marlene couldn't help but agree with him. At least her mood brightened ever so slightly when she saw her head of House join the Defense Professor on the stage. 'Someone competent to save the night.'

Bletchley tapped his throat with his wand: "Good evening, students. As the headmaster announced a week ago, the Hogwarts Dueling Club will have its renaissance tonight. The rationale behind it, as you will have gathered already, is to give each of you the means to defend yourself appropriately should the situation arise."

His words were met with nods of approval. Marlene sensed a big 'but' coming.

"However, dueling still remains the perhaps most dangerous subject one might teach to young children such as yourselves. Therefore, we have taken certain precautions to ensure that the very circumstances that lead to the Dueling club being abandoned in the first place will not repeat themselves during this term."

Marlene frowned. From her oldest brother, she knew that the Club was canceled after a student suffered an almost fatal injury back in 1969. It looked like this club might be set up the exact way their DADA teacher already set up his lessons: 'Minimize any potential injuries.'

"The choice of spells will be more heavily regulated and a zero-tolerance policy has been introduced to anyone who thinks himself above those rules!" Bletchley's eyes, which had been scanning the crowd of students, came resting to a point right beside her. 'The man was seriously obsessed with Harry.'

"Wait a minute...' Marlene stood on her tiptoes to whisper in her boyfriend's ear: "Will they even recognize one of the spells you're not supposed to be using if you speak them in a different language?"

Harry grimaced, looking like he bit into something extremely sour: "I'd rather not reveal a certain talent of mine during a time like this. People might get the wrong impression with the message that has been left on the wall."

"That's true I guess..." Marlene cringed. It had taken her more than a few days to come to terms with the fact that her boyfriend was one of the very few Parselmouths left in Europe and the only other one in Britain, besides the Dark Lord. One resounding fact got her through this however, it was Harry.

Marlene knew that it was not a dark trait per se, simply because it was frowned upon by the general public. Quite the opposite was true actually. The fact that the unique language could be used for warding and enchanting made her wish she'd share Harry's gift.

She knew her boyfriend had left out certain details in his explanation of how he found the Chamber of Secrets. It was rather unlikely that he had simply stumbled over it, especially since Marlene noticed that the Chamber did not even show up on the wonderful Map Harry frequently used.

Then again, he probably simply did not wish for anyone else to find out about the Chamber and drawing its location and entrance on a map was a major security risk.

Talking about security...

Her boyfriend's security had been absolutely endangered since Marlene had seriously considered hexing the prat for going all the way down in the Chamber and confronting a Basilisk with nothing but his wand and a pair of conjured roosters. She did not even want to imagine what might have happened to him had the roosters not worked.

There wasn't too much left of the Kind of Serpents, but what she saw down there had forced her to focus on her occlumency exercises for a few minutes. Still, even after calming down considerably, she had been very tempted to scold Harry for his reckless behavior. Despite being related to Salazar Slytherin, he undoubtedly belonged with the Dorks for taking such unnecessary risks.

Nevertheless, the slain corpse of the Basilisk at least explained how he believed himself capable of financing a Pensieve by himself in near future. 'He certainly had the wealth for it.'

Her thoughts of secret chambers, dead serpents, and mountains of Galleons were interrupted when Harry chuckled drily next to her: "Apparently he would have preferred to host the club by himself. I bet Dumbledore wouldn't let him."

Marlene glanced from her boyfriend back to the stage and caught Bletchley glare down at the Charms Master with an annoyed look: "Professor Flitwick has been so kind to offer his assistance during these lessons. Having gathered some experience in the field of competitive dueling, he was rather insistent on sharing his knowledge..."

Despite the more than lackluster introduction, the Charms Master beamed at the students from up on the platform. One could tell how enthusiastic he was about this night.

"Well, let's start with a very simple demonstration of some spells that can be used to defend yourself." Bletchley continued: "For that, we will need two volunteers, please."

"Come one, don't be shy now..." Bletchley added when the majority of students hesitated to step forwards.

Suddenly he pointed to a group of students dressed in green in the back of the Great Hall: "Well, then, come up here, Mr. Wilkins, come up here."

Marlene's eyes followed Richard Wilkens, a tall seventh-year Slytherin, as the boy made his way towards the platform. The crowd of younger students instantly parted for him. She knew him as a very close friend of Rabastan Lestrange. Rumors were that he and Thomas Avery were currently competing for control over House Slytherin.

"That's one, very good. Now we need a second student." With Wilkens standing up on the platform puffing out his chest threateningly and imposingly, only a few very brave seventh years raised their hands to indicate their willingness. Bletchley ignored them all, his eyes found once again Harry. He opened his mouth, yet at the last second, he seemed to rethink his approach.

The professor's gaze turned stony while the corner of his lips curled into a cold smirk: "Ms. McKinnon, I remember you showing some ambition in my class. Why don't you give it a try?"

Murmurs and whispers roamed through the Great Hall, especially since Marlene had not been among the students who volunteered for it. In addition, she was a sixth-year student, making her seemingly less experienced than her older opponent. 'Seemingly...' 

Despite all that, Bletchley had simply decided to call her out, pretty much challenging her in the middle of the Great Hall. She felt Harry tense next to her. The fingers that had been lazily placed on the curve of her hip twitched in nuisance. 

'He is trying to get to Harry through me, knowing that Harry would wipe the floor with any of them...'

"Hey, it's okay." She ignored the eyes of all the other students and squeezed his hand affectionately and whispered into his ear: "It's not like they will let us outright fight. And if anything happens, I know how to handle myself."

"I'm not worried about you; I know you're capable." Harry pressed a quick peck on her forehead: "I've taught you after all." He finished with a grin.

"Of course, sir," Marlene spoke up with a firm voice, addressing the Defense Professor. She snatched her wand from a holster on her waist. With a well-practiced flick at her own hair, her long golden curls braided themselves into a tight bun. 'Now she was ready to duel.'

The crowd of students parted for her as she left her boyfriend, shooting a worried looking Florence a quick nod and a small smile to indicate that she was fine.

Flitwick was beaming at her with pride as she climbed up the steps to the platform: "I don't doubt you will give us all a good show, Ms. McKinnon." His eyes darted back to the crowd and to Harry briefly. He probably knew or at least expected Harry to have taught her some tricks. 'Well, he was not wrong.'

Marlene walked to the other side of the platform, ignoring the way Wilkens smirked at her. She was going to show him that she was far from being helpless prey tonight. If she remembered correctly, he was among the group of Slytherins who leered at her on the Express. This was the perfect opportunity to make sure that no one messes with her again. 

'Time for some payback.'

"Now that we have our two volunteers, we shall begin with two basic charms, each witch and wizard should know." Bletchley turned towards the crowd: "The most simplistic version of a shield charm, the Protego, will shield its wielder from hexes, jinxes, and curses of light to medium strength. Depending on how much power one pours into the spell, it can even absorb stronger pieces of magic. In any case, it will suffice for today since you're all children."

Marlene's eyes darted over the crowd, chuckling as Harry blew her a kiss and shot her a thumbs up. Naturally, anyone above the third year was already familiar with these spells, however, those that have not heard about them hung on Bletchley's lips, their eyes sparkling in curiosity.

"The second charm we will introduce tonight is the disarming charm, Expelliarmus. Any opponent, no matter how strong, will struggle to continue attacking you once they are rid of their wand. Taking a wizard's or witches' wand is an easy and quick way to avoid any further confrontation."

Marlene snorted audibly, luckily a wave of chuckles from many of the sixth-year students allowed her to remain unnoticed. It was hilarious that Bletchley stood up here talking about avoiding confrontation when two weeks ago he started one for reasons as petty as being unable to disarm his own student.

A rather prominent vein on the professor's forehead bulged. He clenched his fists: "Silence! These will therefore be the first two curses our volunteers will demonstrate tonight." 

Bletchley's eyes darted in between Marlene and Wilkens: "Once more I will remind you that no other curse shall be fired. For the students' protection, we will also erect some protective wards around the enclosure."

He nodded to Flitwick who tapped his wand on a few runes in the middle of the platform. A split second later, a faint silver ripple rose upwards, forming a dome over the platform before becoming transparent again.

"You may begin on my command." Bletchley and Flitwick stepped out of the dome. 

Marlene stopped twirling her wand and tightened her grip around the familiar wood while adjusting her stance. Ice blue eyes narrowed on her opponent while adrenaline continued pumping in her veins. 'It was time to show a few people that she was not to be messed with.'

"BEGIN!"

Wilkins' wand jabbed forward and a bright red beam burst from its tip. Marlene had more than enough time to sidestep it and returned with a rather weak response of her own, simply to test the waters. As expected, Wilkens did not bother dodging it and simply blocked her spell with a silently conjured shield.

"As you can see, both opponents are proficient enough in their use of the spells to cast them silently," Bletchley commented from outside the dome. His amplified voice boomed over the cheers from the crowd: "Yet Mr. Bletchley demonstrates greater power and force behind the spell."

'Let's see about that.' Marlene effortlessly dodged another spell and a third, twirling on the spot elegantly, almost like a muggle ballerina. When she glimpsed a flicker of annoyance on Wilkens' face, she decided it was time to go on the attack.

Dodging one last time, she focused on drawing in her magic, feeling the way it pooled in her belly and surged up to her shoulder and down the length of her arm, where it infused the thin wood.

A spell of much paler color than an ordinary disarming charm left the tip of her wand at an incredible speed. Marlene held her breath, watching the beam of light travel the distance to her opponent in the blink of an eye. Wilkens must have mistaken the lack of color for a lack of power. 'A mistake he would soon regret.'

The spell impacted the older boy's casually conjured shield and struck it with a deep GONG. The raw force behind her spell did not break the shield, yet it was enough to push the surprised Slytherin backward, making him stumble over his own feet. He yelped as he fell on his back.

"Expelliarmus!" 

She followed up her attack, flicking her wand almost lazily at her downed opponent. The wand was torn from his loose grip and sailed over to Marlene, who confidently caught it with her left hand.

The Great Hall erupted in cheers as three-fourths of Hogwarts roared their approval. For once Marlene did not mind the catcalls and whistles the slightest. She knew that this time they were only a means to underline that her opponent, a seventh-year Slytherin, was beaten by a younger girl.

Her eyes searched for her boyfriend and she immediately found him beaming up at her with a proud smile. Marlene strode over to Wilkens, twirling his wand through her fingers just as Harry did in defense class: "Remember what I said on the express?"

The boy pushed himself to his feet and snatched the piece of wood out of her hand while glaring daggers at her: "This isn't over!"

"Very well done, Ms. McKinnon." Flitwick squeaked when Marlene got back to her side of the platform: "You certainly pack some power behind your spells. Let us see if our esteemed Defense Professor insists on a redo."

"His lackey could do with some tips." She glanced back to Bletchley who was conversing with the Slytherin in low whispers, both wizards glimpsing over at her occasionally: "Yet I doubt he is even competent enough to hand them out."

"Since the practical demonstration was so well received by our audience, let us have one more round and make things more interesting..." Bletchley forced a cold smile on his face, yet his eyes spoke volumes about how he wished things to have gone differently.

"All spells included in the OWL curriculum will be allowed, however, they shall not be utilized in any strictly lethal way!" Marlene had a bad feeling, seeing the cold smile on his face.

"Continue to play your strengths, Ms. McKinnon." Flitwick nodded as he parted from her and walked back behind the magical protections.

"BEGIN!"

"Confringo!"

Wilkens opened the duel with a blasting curse, aimed right at the space in front of her feet. A quickly conjured shield stopped any of the debris, splinters, and even the majority of the shockwave from connecting with Marlene.

Her eyes narrowed on her opponent. The blasting curse was part of the OWL curriculum, yet had it been aimed at her head, it might very well be lethal. Obviously, Bletchley will turn a blind eye to the matter unless Marlene retorted with similar spells. 

'If that's how it's going to go, then you just turned a simple loss into an act of embarrassment...

She danced between a volley of incoming spells. Bright hot colors swirled past her, missing her by mere inches as she twisted and turned underneath them in graceful, fluent, purposeful motions. 

Judging by their cheers and awes all around her, the crowd seemed to share her sentiment that being athletic and in peak physical condition was a huge advantage. 'Or perhaps they just like the look of it.' Marlene rolled her eyes, not missing the way pretty much every boy in the Great Hall was ogling her body.

A brief pause in her opponent's casting made for an excellent opportunity to finally strike. Her wand snapped forwards in a blur, firing an overpowered stinging hex to the Slytherin's thigh. 'That one will leave a mark.'

Wilkens yelped in agony and clutched the limb. The painful grimace on his face shifted to fury. Rage flickered behind his eyes: "Expulso!"

Marlene ducked sideways, took careful aim, and fired another stinging hex with a flick of her wand, this time at the boy's torso. The Slytherin was hit below right the ribs and buckled over as if he had been kicked in the tummy, wheezing painfully.

'I will wipe that scowl off your face permanently.' Marlene decided to close the distance to her opponent. She gradually stepped towards the middle of the platform. The way she dodged and shielded the incoming spells made her look like an unstoppable force. The rage on the older boy's face was slowly replaced by apprehension, perhaps even dread when nothing he cast connected with his target.

A bright shimmering shield absorbed the boy's desperate attempt at a banishing charm, aimed right at her head. 

The crowd booed in disapproval, demanding Wilkens' immediate disqualification. The blatant bias from Bletchley, who would immediately disqualify her if she were to cast such a spell, pretty much had her blood boiling at this point. 

'Wilkens will beg for the end of this duel.'

A shrill cry left the boy's lips when another stinging hex connected with his right eye, making it swell in an instance and turn a nasty shade of black. Marlene was only a few meters away when she connected a shot on the very same spot on his thigh, where her first hex undoubtedly had left a heavy bruise already. 'Good! Hopefully, it hurts a lot...'

As expected, the Slytherin's leg gave out underneath his own weight and he dropped to his knees. However, there still seemed to be some fighting spirit left in him, as a stream of bright golden flames burst from the tip of his wand.

'An Incendio... a first-year spell, yet cast with the intent to seriously harm her.' Regardless, Bletchley will argue around it no matter what.

She slashed her wand vertically through the air, parting the blazing heat and deflecting the flames to either side of her. Marlene's wand flicked in rapid succession, firing a trio of stinging hexes, which each elicited a painful howl as they connected.

Wilkins scrambled on the floor at her feet. The proud Slytherin had been reduced to a wheezing, sobbing mess that now panted heavily. He struggled for air, yet continued glaring at her through watery eyes. The manner in which he clutched various parts of his body indicated that he was likely covered in bruises from head to toe by now.

"Do you yield, Wilkens?" She inquired, her wand aiming at the boy's face.

"You will pay for that, bitch!" He coughed and spat, yet it wasn't loud enough for anyone else to hear over to the cheers of the crowd. 

'You shouldn't have said that.' Marlene's face remained an emotionless mask while her arm jabbed forward one last time, hitting the Slytherin with a stinging hex flat in the face and busting his upper lip open.

"That's enough!" Bletchley's magically amplified voice boomed over the cheers of the crowd: "Ms. McKinnon you're hereby banned from participating in the Dueling Club for using excessive force!"

'See if I care.'

She merely snorted and flicked her wand at the profusely bleeding Slytherin to her feet, transfiguring his brown hair to sparkling silver with dark green spikes at the top. 

"You might as well ban me for the rest of the term then, Professor. I did not plan on coming back another night anyways.

September 29th, 1976

ATTACK ON OUR CHILDREN

Is Albus Dumbledore still fit for the role of Headmaster?

Albus sighed and pushed the paper to the side. He was not in the mood to read through what was undoubtedly a well-researched and unbiased article by the lovely Rita Skeeter, recently promoted reporter for the Daily Prophet.

A bright golden flame appeared on his desk, right where he had placed the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. A split second later, the flame was gone and so was the picture of him, smiling up from the front page.

"Thank you, my friend." Albus chuckled, watching Fawkes thrill happily over in his stand. At least his familiar shared his sentiment and wasn't in the mood for character assassinations by petty reporters either.

It had been a rather bad week for the headmaster, all things considered. The team of medical specialists at Saint Mungo's was still struggling to stabilize young Lisa Miller's condition. Albus had been deeply saddened by the news that even if the girl were to survive, the gift of magic had been taken from her permanently.

In addition, the Aurors had arrived at the beginning of the week and conducted a thorough search of the entire castle while taking an even more detailed look at the crime scene on the second floor. So far, they hadn't found anything, yet already announced they will perform interviews with each student.

Even the Unspeakables from the Ministry were unable to reverse engineer the magical signature of whoever had enchanted the nails. The spell itself had been an ancient one, developed by an Aramaic priest, who was obsessed with finding a way to rob another witch or wizard of their magic to enhance his own. 

The fact that the perpetrator did not hesitate to resort to such spells was deeply troublesome. Albus had been correct in his original hypothesis that it was only thanks to Ms. McKinnon's magnificent feat that the girl had been saved in the first place.

A chuckle escaped his lips when he thought about the blonde Ravenclaw Prefect. The young woman had put on quite a show during the Dueling Club's first session a few nights ago. It was unfortunate that she and her boyfriend decided not to attend any more sessions. Nevertheless, the display of skill had motivated many of the younger students to try even harder and ignited their ambition to accomplish similar feats.

Still, it would have been nice to keep her and Harry Peverell under Filius' tutelage in the club. Naturally, the boy would never let anyone provoke him enough to engage in an outright confrontation, however opportunities to witness his level of skill might have still presented themselves...

His musings were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in, please!"

The door to his office opened and Argus Filch limped into the room, followed by his ever-present cat, Mrs. Norris. The caretaker also carried a short piece of copper pipe in his hands.

"Good evening, Argus..." The headmaster peeked over his half-moon glasses: "I must admit I have not expected a visit from you tonight. What can I do for you?"

"I am not exactly sure, but there is something seriously wrong, headmaster." The man looked around nervously and remained standing in the middle of the room while his cat peered over to Fawkes' porch.

"Well, what seems to be the problem then?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. It was not unlike the caretaker to come to his office and complain about something, however, the man usually got straight to the point.

"This is the problem, of course." The man placed the piece of copper pipe on the table and looked at the headmaster expectantly.

"I am afraid you will have to be a bit more specific than that, my friend." Albus sighed: "It looks like a plumbing device, yet my expertise in that area is rather limited. Why don't you start in the beginning?"

"Yes- Well- You see, two weeks ago I started switching out the magical..." His eyes narrowed: "... filters for the plumbing in each bathroom at Hogwarts."

"You do so twice a year, always at the beginning of term if I am not mistaken. Does the device not work? Albus examined: "Usually Filius does an admirable job making sure the enchantments keep the water clean and the pipes from clogging?"

"No, that's not it..." Argus shook his head vehemently: "Professor Flitwick did a very good job as always, however, I have one pipe too much as you can see!" He gestured for the piece of copper on the desk.

Albus rubbed his temples, not really in the mood to deal with the man, especially if he was being so bizarre: "Did you perhaps ask for an additional device?"

The caretakers shook his head again: "I have done this job for over 15 years, headmaster. I always ask the professor to prepare the same number of pipes and I never have a spare!"

"Perhaps you have forgotten a bathroom this time then?" The headmaster inquired.

"I checked each of the bathrooms three times already." Filch raised his voice: "All of them have already been updated by me, yet I still have one device left!" He finished by once more pointing at the pipe accusingly.

For the first time since the beginning of the conversation, Albus felt his curiosity piqued: "So what you are saying is that one entire bathroom simply went missing?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

Albus exhaled deeply: "How many devices do you usually ask Filius to prepare?"

"18."

"So usually you check the water regulations in 18 bathrooms, is that correct?" Albus asked.

"Yes."

"But this term, you only did it for 17, since you have one spare?"

"Yes."

'Now that was indeed curious.' Albus decided to actually take the caretaker's request seriously for now. The man knew the castle well and if he ensured to have checked each bathroom three times then Albus believed him. 'Yet that poses a different question.'

"So we're dealing with a bathroom who simply vanished..." He mused. There had to be a way to solve this.

"You mention 18 bathrooms..." Albus scribbled down a few notes on some parchment: "Remind me again how they are spread out over the castle."

"It's rather simple, isn't it?" The man replied: "We need a boys' and a girls' bathroom, so there are two on every floor, including two down in the dungeons. The only exception is the ground floor. There we have four bathrooms, two for the girls and two for the boys."

"So that makes eight floors, including the dungeons, with two bathrooms each, plus an extra two on the ground floor, leading to our number 18..." Albus scribbled away: "Well then, have you isolated which floor we are dealing with?"

"What do you mean 'isolate', headmaster?" The man looked perplexed.

Albus smiled patiently: "Since you have checked each of the other bathrooms, there must have been a floor where you've only managed to check one. Unless it was on the ground floor of course."

The man grumbled under his breath, obviously deep in thought. Then his eyes lit up: "The second floor! There was only a boys' bathroom on the second floor. You're brilliant, headmaster."

Albus would have chuckled good-naturedly at the man's enthusiasm, yet his response brought a deep frown to his face: "Tell me, Argus, in what order do you usually check the plumbing?"

"It's always the same, isn't it?" He shrugged: "I start in the dungeons a week after the beginning of term and work my way up in the castle."

"Do you perhaps remember on what day you reached the second floor?" An edge of excitement crept into the headmaster's voice. 'Were the events perhaps connected?'

"Must have been roughly three weeks ago, plus or minus a couple of days."

Albus slammed his hand down flat on the table in triumph. This wasn't quite proof yet, but it was definitely another lead to solving the puzzle he had temporarily forced from his mind after the attack had occurred.

Minerva had mentioned that she witnessed something in her office down on the first floor. Simultaneously Albus felt a shift and momentarily lost control of the wards and now he finds out that an entire bathroom has been swallowed by the castle and even the caretaker seems unable to find it?

"Thank you very much, Argus." The headmaster dismissed the man. His thoughts were racing and he needed to be alone to get them in order.

The caretaker murmured something under his breath and called his pet back to him before leaving the office. Albus stared down at the notes on parchment in front of him.

Two Magical detonations / Shockwaves

First on the lower floors (2?), second on the seventh.

Peverell and McKinnon probably involved

Temporary loss of control over wards

Girls' Bathroom vanishes on the second floor

'This was starting to get more and more interesting.'