Chapter 1
“Protego!”
Maeve Delaney’s arm swiftly swung over her head, a shimmering purple shield following in its path. The Confringo cast heading toward her crashed against the protective charm, sending flames out in all directions until dissipating. She glared in her opponent’s direction, though she couldn’t help but allow a proud grin to work its way onto her face. She really had to work on that - it softened her otherwise menacing expression. “It that all you’ve got, Sallow? Gee, your skills have really gotten rusty over the summer.”
Sebastian’s fist tightened around his wand. Unlike Maeve, he was not smiling - though, she could tell from the glimmer in his eye there was amusement hiding beneath his scowl. It wouldn’t be a duel between the two of them without some light bullying. Would his response would be name-calling, or boasting about his own skill? Those tended to be his two favorite contributions to their trash-talking.
Instead, he quickly pointed his wand and non-verbally sent a basic cast her way, attempting to utilize the element of surprise. Maeve was able to cast Protego just in time to avoid being hit with the spell, but it was definitely a close call. “Careful, I almost got you there.” Sebastian smugly said as she frowned at him.
He probably could tell that she hadn’t been fully expecting it from the slight raise of her eyebrows. Maeve mentally scolded herself for allowing her opponent to get a read on her expression. She knew better. If there was one thing that her father hoped she would take away from their long nights in their field, it wasn’t the perfect Protego stance or the types of transitional wand movements (though, both were important). No, it was to never allow your mask to slip in front of your competitor. It would just give them access to your weaknesses. Her training in dueling consisted not only of the technical skills, but also how to present yourself in front of competition. She had been lazy with that vitally important component, and swore to herself it wouldn’t happen again. Instinctively, Maeve straightened her posture, tightened her grip around her wand, and raised it to the ideal starting position: arm extended slightly forward, elbow bent at a 90 degree angle, and the tip of her wand at chin height. It was muscle memory for her this point - she probably couldn't prepare for her casts any other way if she tried.
“Come on, Maeve, kick his arse! I’ve bet a sickle on you!” Anne Sallow called. She and many other students found themselves packed behind the iron fences that were enchanted to protect them from rogue spells. The first duel of the school year between the previous year’s Crossed Wands champion and runner up was the first real excitement of the term. Naturally, Lucan Brattleby wasted no time that first night approaching both Maeve and Sebastian about starting off the year right with a duel, and word spread quickly when the date and time were set. Not only was the duel expected to include a lot of skill - it was Maeve and Sebastian, for crying out loud - but also a lot of entertainment. Duels between the pair were destined to include a ton of flashy tricks and a lot of smack talk. In most of her duels, Maeve wouldn’t dare interrupt her spell-casting simply to deliver a sharp comment or a smug look, but with Sebastian it felt natural to put on a show for the audience they had, whether it be a small group of friends between classes, or a larger crowd at Crossed Wands. Besides, he probably started it.
“I’m sorry Anne, I could’ve sworn I just heard you say you bet against your own twin!” Sebastian called in her direction, his eyebrows raised in offense and his non-wand hand clutching his chest.
Perfect, he was distracted. Maeve used the opportunity to cast Expelliarmus, sending Sebastian’s wand flying out of his hand and ultimately crashing down several steps behind him. “It’s called a smart bet. We can compare records, if you need clarification.” Maeve called.
As Sebastian bent over to pick up his wand off the ground, Maeve nonverbally cast Depulso, sending it much further away. He straightened up with an unamused blank expression. “Childish, really.” He plainly said as he retrieved his wand, tssk tssk tssk-ing the entire way.
Maeve could make out one specific laugh from the crowd of students. Her younger sister Rowan was right in front, smushing her face against the iron bars in an attempt to get as close to the action as possible. The fourth year’s small stature made it easy for her to weave through the crowd of students and get the best spot she could. She attended every single one of Maeve’s duels - Merlin, Rowan would probably watch her shoot basic casts at a pumpkin.
Once Sebastian retrieved his wand, they both approached the duel with a renewed energy. It didn’t last much longer, but was a good showing for them both - Sebastian definitely had a few flashy moves that interrupted Maeve’s spell combinations and forced her to dodge a few times, but ultimately Maeve came out on top. She made her way over to him, extending her arm toward where he was splayed out from her final Descendo spell. He hesitated, eyes suspiciously moving from her hands to her face. Finally, deciding to trust her, he took her hand and allowed her help getting to his feet. Even after he was steadied, Maeve held on to his hand, transforming her grasp for assistance into a firm handshake. “Always a pleasure to kick your arse, Sallow.”
“Oh, come off it!” he scolded, though his expression was light as he chuckled. He let go of her hand and playfully smacked her on the head. “Same time next week?”
“How about same time tomorrow?” Lucan Brattleby’s chipper voice called out. He stood in his usual corner, updating the standings board with the completion of the club’s first duel of the year.
As Sebastian left to go talk with Lucan, Maeve could barely turn around before a pair of small arms wrapped painfully tight around her waist. “You did amazing!” Rowan complimented. She closed her eyes and hugged her sister even tighter, somehow.
“Ro, you’re crushing me!” Maeve dramatically huffed, pushing away the young girl before pulling her into a proper hug. The hug was comforting, and allowed Maeve a quiet moment to take a deep breath and calm down the adrenaline from the duel. Rowan’s hugs must have healing properties of some sort - even their parents agreed that nothing could warm you up or slow your racing heart quicker than a hug from the young girl. “I heard you cheering louder than everyone else out there.”
“Yeah, I don’t think the two Slytherin girls next to me really cared for it much.” Rowan giggled. “But, I decided it helped you win.”
Natsai Onai walked over, patting her hand on Rowan’s shoulder. “If only we could all have a cheerleader like you when we needed it.” Following closely behind were two more seventh-year Gryffindors, Saoirse Walsh and Garreth Weasley.
“Well done out there, champ.” Garreth said approvingly as he approached Maeve’s side. He reached out to pat the top of her head and, annoyingly, mess up her hair. She swatted at him, harshly scolding him until his hands were safely at his side again. Maeve was very protective of her signature dueling hairstyle: her long hair smoothed back in a half-up half-down fashion, straightened from a smoothing potion of Rowan's design. The hairstyle was just as much a part of her appearance in front of her competitors as her stance and technique, and she wanted every part of her to scream detail-oriented and focused.
“That was incredible! It looks like another year where Maeve is champion, wouldn’t you say?” Saoirse excitedly complimented, hands moving wildly as she spoke. The social butterfly had been friends with Maeve since their very first moments at Hogwarts. From riding in on the boat together, to standing next to each other while being sorted, to being sorted into Gryffindor back-to-back; the two formed a quick bond out of sheer proximity, but that friendship had lasted all these years. Imaginative and upbeat, Saoirse had a knack for transforming ordinary moments into special occasions, from study sessions to brushing teeth in the dormitory bathrooms.
“Ah yes, we can definitely deduce that from a single duel.” Maeve sarcastically replied, attempting to come across humble. Though, she couldn’t imagine a reason why she wouldn’t come out on top. This was her seventh year, and she had beaten all of her opponents before, often with ease. She looked off toward the center of the Clock Tower Courtyard, noticing Leander Prewett obnoxiously stretching as he prepared for his upcoming duel. His long limbs were extended in all directions, and she couldn’t help but giggle at how awkward he looked. “It looks like I have some pretty stiff competition, so anything could happen.”
The group laughed as they also noticed Leander, knowing he was in no way a contender. Unfortunately for the Gryffindor, he seemed to end up the ultimate loser in everything he tried, from Summoner’s Court to dueling. Still, Maeve admired that he always got back up and tried again - many students didn’t try at all.
Garreth leaned down slightly toward Maeve’s ear, and said in a low voice, “I’ve got five Knuts on whoever is facing Leander.”
“Oh, you’re absolutely mental if you think I’m betting on Leander.” Maeve giggled, lightly shoving Garreth away.
“Well, I’ll be the one to root for our housemate then, but you’ll have to let me know what happens later. I’m going to head back to the common room. I really just came to cheer you on Maeve, but I already need all the time I can get for our assignments.” Natty said. “Anyone else want to walk back with me?”
“Oh, I will!” Saoirse said, linking arms with Natty.
“I’m going to stick around and watch - you know, get a read on this year's competition and all that.” Maeve smiled, wrapping her arm around her younger sister’s shoulder at her side. It was no question that Rowan would also stay if Maeve was.
“Garreth?” Saoirse asked.
Garreth looked down toward Maeve, a slight pause before he answered. “Uh - yeah, I’m going to stay too.”
Natty smiled. Maeve couldn’t help but catch a knowing look in Natty’s eye, and it prompted her to again wonder if she had a touch of Seer in her like her mother. She knew The ability generally skips generations in families, but sometimes Natty’s face or words made her wonder. “I thought so. We’ll see you back in the common room! And goodnight, Rowan.”
Maeve and Rowan sent off the girls with a wave, before turning their attention toward the duel that was just beginning. The area had cleared significantly since Maeve’s duel ended, and though she was embarrassed for the current duelers at the much smaller crowd, a prideful grin crept it’s way onto her face that a large portion of the students came specifically for her duel. She kept her eyes on the center of the room, but she found herself lost in a daydream about a future as a professional dueler, like her father once was. She loved to imagine packed dueling arenas where she was in the spotlight, effortlessly displaying advanced spell combinations against an opponent who found no way to keep up. No one would be a match for her, surely. Maybe her daydream would allow them to get in a Bombarda or two, but she would just easily dodge it, or cast a perfect Protego and rebound the spell right back at them. Anyone who would ever doubt her ability to keep up with even the largest or most talented duelers because of her age or small-stature would be sorely mistaken.
This train of thought prompted another. It was one that had been all too familiar to Maeve lately, yet never failed to cause a sinking feeling in her stomach : the Regional Dueling Tournament. The annual competition featured duelers from Clagmar Coast all the way to North Ford Bog, and brought a lot of excitement to the entire region. The several weekends of competition would attract a large audience, and many students traveled to the tournament to cheer on the Hogwarts students that were competing.
It was that last piece that specifically stuck in Maeve’s thoughts since she first arrived at the school seven years ago. Each year, Hogwarts was given the opportunity to present two duelists of their own in the Regional Tournament; one female and one male seventh-year student. It was the only opportunity for someone that age to compete as the event was otherwise restricted to adults, and Maeve had been dreaming of the day that she would be able to take that spot and prove her skill somewhere other than the Clock Tower Courtyard. The opportunity to duel on a much larger stage would be an incredible advantage to have in getting to eventually be a professional dueler after graduation. Hogwarts students did not last many rounds in the tournament historically, which was not surprising given their obvious lack of experience compared to the other duelers competing. But, Maeve saw herself at least being able to make it through with a few wins, and that would absolutely earn her some credibility in the community. Sure, her surname and therefore obvious association with her father already would be beneficial, but the professional dueling industry was incredibly difficult to get into, and she needed everything she could get to help her get there.
Right now, the thought of the tournament sent a wave of fear through her. They were a week into this term, and typically by this point they would have already heard about how students could declare their interest in being the Hogwarts competitor, but they haven’t heard anything yet. Did they just go ahead and select somebody else? Or perhaps, was Hogwarts not participating this year? Why haven’t they heard anything?
A hand waving obnoxiously close to her face interrupted her thoughts. Her fear must have been translated in her expression, because she looked up to see Garreth facing her with a reassuring look. “We’ll hear about it soon - there’s no way that the competitor from Hogwarts is going to be anybody except you... and Leander.”
A loud laugh escaped, and Maeve couldn’t help but imagine Leander not even able to get one basic cast in before being completely wiped out by a single Depulso from an experienced dueler. The reprieve from her worry was short-lived however, and she couldn’t help but allow some of it to escape. “Why haven’t we heard about it yet then? They may have decided to just select someone this year, instead of doing their own competition for it like they normally do.”
“Why would they select anybody except you?” He groaned, having made this exact point several times this week.
Rowan poked Maeve’s side. “Remember two years ago when you took down those two seventh-year boys by yourself? I’d like to see someone else do that!” She said. Garreth pointed at Rowan in agreeance, raising his eyebrows questioningly at Maeve.
Maeve’s face flushed. Though she was not at all ashamed of her skill, she never knew how to appropriately discuss her accomplishments with her peers. Sure, she was a talented dueler, but she also couldn’t get higher marks than an Acceptable on any of her History of Magic assignments, and for some reason Puffskeins were always deathly afraid of her even though she tried following all of Poppy’s advice. “Yeah, well, those boys seemed more focused on flexing their muscles in front of their girlfriends rather than actually casting spells at me.”
Garreth gave her a look that told her We both know you’re incredibly skilled, and you will always be too humble about it for my liking - the kind of telepathic communication that only came after years of close friendship. Instead of actually saying that, however, he repeated, “We’ll hear about it soon.”
“Well, I’m making myself comfortable.” Maeve announced as she sat down on the stone where she had a good view of the duel, changing the subject. Rowan did not hesitate to seat herself in Maeve’s lap, and Maeve’s arms instinctively wrapped around her.
Garreth followed, sitting down next to Maeve. His knee was just barely touching hers as they both sat with crossed legs, but she didn’t make any effort to create space between them. She doubted it was purposeful, and didn’t want to make him feel like she was accusing him of something. That being said, it was distracting as all hell. Maeve kept her eyes locked on the duel in front of her, but she was not processing any of it. Instead, her attention was locked on where their legs were just slightly touching in her peripheral vision. He seemed wholly unbothered by it, only confirming her guess that it was entirely unintentional.
Garreth’s sudden, roaring laugh made her jump, redirecting her attention to the scene in front of her. Rowan uncontrollably giggled in her lap as Leander wailed in the middle of the room, a Levioso charm on his underwear lifting him in the most uncomfortable wedgie one could imagine. The entire room loudly laughed as he was released from the cast, immediately turning a bright shade of red. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t produce any words.
“That was the best thing I’ve ever seen!” Maeve cried out, unable to stop laughing.
Garreth wiped forming tears from his eyes as he caught his breath. “I am never going to let him live that down!”
And he didn’t. Garreth brought it up on the walk to the Ravenclaw common room to drop off Rowan, then again on the walk back toward the Gryffindor common room, and again immediately upon arriving inside the common room when he saw Natty and Saoirse. Each time it was mentioned, he seemed to laugh even harder than last time. Maeve sighed as she realized she would be hearing about it constantly over the next several days, maybe even weeks. Though, she wasn’t necessarily complaining, as the image of Leander’s hilariously pained expression made her laugh each time she thought of it too.
It wasn’t until Garreth was seated next to her in Transfiguration the next morning that he could even talk about it with a straight face. “Do you think that is the face he makes in bed with a girl?” He said under his breath as Professor Weasley helped a student on the other end of the classroom.
The sudden comment caught Maeve off guard, and she slapped her hand over her mouth before she allowed a loud laugh to escape. “Disgusting! Don’t make me think about Prewett doing that, blech!” She whispered back.
“Oh come on, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t be stoked to be the lucky lass who gets to see the inside of the seventh year boys dorm?”
Her eyes quickly darted to him, trying to figure out if there was a second, secret meaning to what he said. But, smooth to recover, her lips curled into a devilish smile. “I mean, it would be one thing if Eric Northcott asked me...” she trailed off.
“Excuse me, I need to quickly go throw up -”
“Ahem.” Professor Weasley loudly directed at them. With identical worried expressions, the pair quickly looked up at her. She did nothing more than stare at them for an uncomfortably long few seconds, but the disappointed look on her face told them all that needed to be said as far as her disapproval of their distraction. Even as Professor Weasley turned her attention back to observing the students attempt to turn cauldron cakes to cabbages, the two sat still for a moment, afraid any sudden movement would somehow result in punishment. Though, after a moment, they both felt safe to let out a breath.
“Well, I don’t think this is going to be the year my aunt lets up on me, is it?” Garreth whispered.
“Oh please, as if you should go unsupervised. Haven’t you destroyed enough cauldrons for one lifetime?”
“I’m not a trouble-maker, I’m an curious and daring student. There should be no punishment for learning that mixing together Ashwinder Eggs and crushed moonstone creates a highly caustic substance.” He huffed. “Besides, isn’t supervision what you're for?”
“Ha! That’s a load of troll bogeys. I’m usually the one encouraging your questionable ‘lessons’.”
Though as if against his will, the corners of his lips curled into a smile. “Yeah, you are.” He shifted his gaze around the room, freezing when he noticed his aunt’s eyes were back on him from across the room. He subtly nudged Maeve to give her the heads up, and made a concerted effort to look engrossed in his work.
Maeve, no longer being looked at by Garreth, also couldn’t hold back a smile from forming. Her cheeks burned. She had known Garreth for a long time at this point, meeting him right after both being sorted into Gryffindor their first years. They always had been friendly; they shared occasional banter in their classes, wouldn’t shy away from sitting near each other in the Great Hall, and would find themselves sometimes involved in the same late-night conversations in the common room. Then all of a sudden, at the beginning of their fifth year, Garreth and Maeve found themselves inexplicably becoming much closer. Maeve couldn’t really pinpoint if there was a specific event that caused it, or if it was just one of those rare forces, but suddenly he was showing up to all of her Crossed Wands matches loudly cheering her on, and she found herself in otherwise empty classrooms with him on days he wanted to experiment with different brews.
Maeve would consider Garreth a part of her larger group of close friends - namely, the two of them plus Natty and Saoirse. The group could be made even larger with the addition of Rowan most times, and of course with the other students they have shared many classes with. It was much easier to think of it that way than thinking about how her and Garreth somehow always find themselves in their own private conversation at some point, even in those larger groups. Whenever she did that, she got this really weird feeling in her stomach, and a her chest would feel like it was fluttering, and it was really uncomfortable. Therefore, good friends in a larger group it was. And she was very happy with that.
After class ended and students were dismissed, Professor Weasley called, “Miss Delaney and Mr. Sallow, would you both please come see me for a moment?”
Maeve’s glanced over at her, brows furrowing in uncertainty. “Why does she want to talk to me, do you think it’s about us talking during class?” She asked Garreth. Suddenly, she turned to him, pointing an accusing finger near his face. “Do you get to avoid consequence simply for being the Professor’s nephew? Absolutely unfair.”
He raised his hands in defense. “Hey, if you are getting punished for us talking, then I better go pack my bags. You know she cracks down harder on me than anyone else.”
Maeve knew he was right, but now she was feeling more nervous about what else it could be. She was notorious for turning in assignments late, but it seemed too early in the year for that to be a concern. Plus, why was Sebastian also being called? She sighed as she looked back up at Garreth. “Ok, well, I’ll see you later then?”
“I’ll go remind Leander about his duel yesterday while I wait.” He said with a smile.
Maeve walked over to join the professor and Sebastian, who shared her confused expression. Professor Weasley eased their tension with a warm smile, clasping her hands in front of her. “As Deputy Headmistress, it is my distinct pleasure to ask you to participate in something incredibly exciting.”
Maeve felt her stomach drop - this must be about the tournament. Were they just asking her to participate outright? Or, what if this was about something completely unrelated, and Maeve was getting her hopes up about nothing? The slight pause after Professor Weasley’s last sentence left room for several conflicting thoughts to whirl around in Maeve’s head. She was thankful that the professor soon carried on.
“As I’m sure you are aware, Hogwarts is given the opportunity to present two students to compete in the Regional Dueling Tournament each year.” Yes! Finally! “To appoint those students, we allow any seventh year to declare their interest, and then have the interested students compete in a day of competition here on school grounds, where the male and female winner of those duels will fill our tournament positions. This year, we are still having students duel against each other for the opportunity to compete in the tournament, but rather than having any interested student sign up, we wanted to select the most capable male and female students from each house for our school competition.” Maeve and Sebastian both straightened up significantly upon recognition that they were decidedly capable. “You both were recommended by Professor Hecat, whose judgement I value greatly, and thus I would like to ask both of you if you would be interested in competing against other students for a position in the Regional Dueling Tournament?”
Sebastian beamed, looking down at Maeve, then back at Professor Weasley with a massive smile on his face. Maeve knew that Sebastian was equally thrilled at the tournament news, the two of them having had several conversations about it in the past. “Yes, of course!” He happily responded. Him and Professor Weasley both then turned to look at Maeve for her answer. Her heart was absolutely pounding in her chest; finally this was all coming true for her. Maeve did not trust that she wouldn't just start screaming if she opened her mouth, so she resorted to quickly nodding her head.
“Excellent!” Professor Weasley smiled.
“Who are we competing against?” Sebastian asked.
“Well, as I mentioned, we are asking one male and one female student from each house. I am seeing them all in classes throughout the day, so I am asking them as I am seeing them. Some have already accepted, but I have not had the opportunity to see each student yet. Therefore, I would appreciate your hesitation in discussing your selection with your classmates until we are able to announce it formally tomorrow. I understand that may be difficult, but I promise that you will be able to indulge in the excitement soon!”
Shortly after, Sebastian and Maeve were dismissed. In the Transfiguration Courtyard, the two gleefully looked at each other. After a long pause where both were deciding between bravado and camaraderie, both made the same choice as they met in a quick but tight hug. They both laughed as a product of their high excitement. As they stepped back from their hug, Sebastian stuck out his hand for her to shake. “Well, looks like we’re going to be partners, partner.”
“That requires both of us beating the other students.” She reminded him, but gave his hand a firm shake anyway.
“Pssh! That’s the easy part, we’re obviously the most capable duelers here. We’ve beaten each of them before, might I remind you.”
She entertained it. “It’s going to be odd, fighting at your side instead of against you. I might accidentally shoot a Confringo at you out of habit.”
“Wow, you’re a horrible partner already!” He groaned. “I’ll have to scope out my other options after they’re announced tomorrow. Until then, Delaney.” He saluted her as he left.