Chapter 3
Maeve slouched over her plate in the Great Hall. She poked her eggs lazily with her fork, as if the action replaced actually eating them. The eggs she had piled onto her plate now looked wholly unappetizing. In fact, nothing looked appetizing. She felt a pang of guilt realizing how much food she’d be wasting, but she had a suspicious feeling that if she tried to eat, it would all come right back up.
It was early on Sunday morning, meaning the Great Hall was mostly empty. The enchanted ceiling reflected the peace and quiet by displaying soothing sunrise tones. It should be calming. However, today was the day of the Hogwarts competition for the positions in the Regional tournament. So, the space instead only allowed her thoughts to race and her anxiety to spiral.
Her nerves about the competition came out of nowhere. In fact, the previous night when she was first announced to the school as one of the selections, she was feeling quite confident. The other students vigorously cheered, and her friends started chanting her name. Maeve was pretty sure she even heard Rowan shrieking - surely, she lost her voice. Garreth was at her side and grabbed her wrist, lifting it high up in the air and demanding attention, but Maeve didn’t mind. This opportunity for show what she was really made of was what she had always wanted - it was what she had waited so years for - and she did not want to shy away from the attention that accompanied it. Besides, a lifetime of dueling more than prepared for the feeling of eyes intently watching her.
Her confidence only grew as they announced the other students who were selected. The male Gryffindor student was, hilariously, Leander Prewett. Maeve supposed the faculty was limited to seventh-years who have expressed interest in dueling, but was Leander truly the best choice? Not that it mattered, since Sebastian was also competing for the male position in the tournament, and would surely make Leander look like a fumbling first-year, like he has on several occasions over the years. The other students that were selected made much more sense to her, most definitely being some of the more talented duelers from their houses based on their matches at Crossed Wands. But, the most important part was that Maeve has beaten every single one of them before. Some of them, several times. As much as she didn't want to go into the competition too confident, how could she not assume her success against these other students?
But then they announced the competition would be the next day. Maeve did not expect that quick of a turn around time, and her stomach unfamiliarly churned with nerves. Surely, this shouldn’t change the outcome, right? It's not like Maeve had any less time to prepare than the other students. Still, she felt an unexpected level of anxiety. She had never felt this nervous before her Crossed Wands matches, and sometimes she had much less notice for them. Though, Maeve supposed the stakes weren’t as high for those matches.
That night, Maeve couldn’t shake those nerves. She had been so eager to hear about the tournament in the first place, but now she secretly wished it hadn’t happened yet. Whenever other students came up to congratulate her and wish her luck, it seemed they were just adding another drop to into the pond of anxiety forming.
The only time she felt some reprieve from that uncomfortable feeling was much later that night, after most students went up to their dormitories. Garreth, Saoirse, and Natty, though plagued with exhaustion, draped themselves over the comfortable seating surrounding a fireplace. Maeve made herself comfortable as she sat next to Garreth on a couch, slouching into his side and resting her head on his shoulder.
Other times, she probably would’ve thought twice about the action. However, with the announcement of the Hogwarts dueling competition came a party in the Gryffindor common room, and she may have had a firewhiskey or two throughout the celebration that night that lent themselves well to mindless affection. Luckily, based on his glossy eyes and scruffy appearance, Maeve suspected Garreth had at least a little firewhiskey himself, and might not be thinking much of it either. But then, when he wrapped his one arm around her shoulders instinctively in response, her face flushed. The position they found themselves could probably be entirely platonic, right? Still, the affection made her chest feel tight. Maeve glanced toward Natty and Saoirse, relieved to find they were too tired from the late hour to take notice.
Their conversations that night did not last long, as they all felt desperate to get some sleep. As Maeve left the comfort of Garreth’s side and settled into her bed, she felt the anxiety pulling at her stomach once again. When she closed her eyes to go to sleep, she couldn’t help but picture the things that could go wrong the next day. Missing it entirely through either sleeping through it or some complication obstacle preventing her arrival, unexpectedly losing a duel, or being found out that she for some reason was no eligible to compete - scenarios, both realistic and not, left her tossing and turning for hours.
She supposed she got maybe a few hours of sleep throughout the night, eventually waking up with the sunrise. It was the weekend, and Maeve was determined to go back to sleep and enter the competition well-rested, but it was an impossible task. She couldn’t fall back asleep no matter how hard she tried, and eventually decided that if she couldn’t get more rest, she could at least go fuel up with a large breakfast.
Now, poking her eggs with her fork and not feeling inclined toward any of the food in front of her, Maeve realized that getting in a good breakfast would also be a difficult task.
Lost in her concerns about the competition later that day, Maeve hardly noticed Lucan Brattleby seat himself next to her. It didn’t take long for him to announce his presence. “Good mornin’! Breakfast of champions, I see.”
She pushed her plate toward him lightly. “Here, you can take some if you’d like. My eyes were larger than my stomach this morning.” As she looked up at him, she could read the concern growing in his expression. She was sure he could see right through her - the bags under her eyes and the slight shake in her voice not helping her case at all.
“You’re not getting scared on me now, Delaney!” He said in a stern voice, pointing a finger at her. “I’m taking it upon myself to coach the students who compete in the tournament this year, and I am expecting you to be one of them! And Sebastian to be the other one, of course. So, you can’t lose your cool here!”
Maeve would’ve laughed at his parental tone if she wasn’t so occupied with her nerves. Still, she was determined to keep under wraps the degree of her anxiety. “I’m fine, Lucan. I just need to get in some practice time before the competition later, and I’ll be totally fine.”
Lucan’s attention was suddenly pulled toward the entrance, and Maeve followed his stare to watch Sebastian enter, followed closely by Anne and Ominis. Without warning, Lucan grabbed her wrist tightly and pulled her up from the bench.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Maeve asked as Lucan hurriedly pulled her toward the entrance.
He didn’t bother answering her, instead heading toward Sebastian before he was able to take a seat at the Slytherin table. “Sallow, take your breakfast to go! We are going to the Clock Tower Courtyard and practicing until you two aren’t even capable of making mistakes.” Lucan demanded.
Maeve sighed at his plan, but found no point in protesting. Why would she want to, anyway? It would surely only help calm her nerves.
Sebastian also seemed pleased with the idea. “Sure thing!” He agreed, walking over to the closest fruit basket at the nearby Hufflepuff table and grabbing an apple. He tossed it high in the air, catching it easily, and biting into it with an annoying grin on his face. Clearly, he was pleased with himself.
“Well, it’s our lucky day, Anne.” Ominis mused, heading off to the Slytherin table.
“Good luck, I’ll be rooting for you both later!” Anne called, giving the pair an encouraging double-thumbs up before joining Ominis.
Lucan, Sebastian, and Maeve turned to exit the Great Hall. They barely made it past the first set of doors before they were interrupted by the one and only, Garreth Weasley. “Well good morning, all!” He greeted cheerfully, extending a welcoming gesture to the three students before focusing his attention specifically on Maeve. “I was thinking, what do you say about heading to that corridor today? We can pull out the mannequins and you can get some practice in before the competition?”
Maeve awkwardly looked off to Sebastian and Lucan at her side, then back at Garreth. If only he had extended that offer only five minutes sooner, and she most definitely would’ve said yes. Now, Lucan standing at her side, so thrilled to be the coach to the two seventh-years that Maeve knew he looked up to greatly, she knew she couldn’t blow off their plans right in front of him.
“I’m sorry Garreth, we’re actually already headed off for some practice. Thank you, though, truly.” She said, an unexpected amount of remorse lacing her words. She watched the smile slowly fall from his face at her words, prompting her to add, “But I can see you later before the competition! Meet you at lunch?”
Garreth’s eyes shifted to Sebastian at her side. He looked at the Slytherin for a few, awkward moments before returning his gaze to Maeve. She focused hard on analyzing his expression, trying to figure out the emotion behind those eyes, but to no avail. Eventually, he returned his gaze to Maeve, and answered her casually. “No worries, do what you need to do. I’ll see you at the competition.” Though Garreth did his best to equip a grin and appear supportive, she could tell he was disappointed at her answer.
He was already walking past her into the Great Hall when she called out to him, “Ok, see you later!” hoping to get at least a half-smile in response, but he continued forward and past the large doors. Her nerves for the tournament must be taking the form of heightened anxiety about his reaction as well, surely.
It wasn’t all the way until noon that Maeve and Sebastian took their first chance to breathe. They were panting and dripping with sweat as they focused on taking sips of their water. At first, Lucan attempted more formal drills with each of them individually on the variety of training dummies he’s collected over the past few years - Maeve’s favorite of which was the one adorned in a Ballycastle Bats quidditch jersey - it was so satisfying to set it ablaze or slice to shreds. It didn’t take long, however, for Maeve and Sebastian to simply have their sights set on dueling each other over and over again. Lucan adapted, and for several hours the three of them created and practiced several different flashy openings and combinations. Maeve hadn’t felt this clear-headed since before arriving to Hogwarts this year - getting lost in casting spells and goofing off with her dueling companions was just what she needed.
“There you are!” The easily recognizable voice of Rowen caught Maeve’s attention, and despite her fatigue she rose quickly to her feet to capture her younger sister in a tight, sweaty hug.
“As if I would be anywhere except here.” Maeve chuckled.
“Hey, closed practice!” Lucan called over before turning and freezing in his tracks upon seeing it was Rowan. Maeve watched as his face flushed, and it took everything in her not to tease him right then and there. She made a mental note to watch his reaction to her sister in the future, though. Lucan stammered before clearing his throat and formally saying, “Actually, you’re fine! We’ll take five.”
Rowen stepped back from the hug and grimaced at the sweat that transferred onto her sweater. “Well, you’d be surprised how long I’ve searched for you! Mostly because I kept getting distracted by this high-pitch humming - have you also heard rumors about the Daedalian Keys being back? But still, it took me a while. Then I saw Garreth in the Great Hall, and knew he’d know where you were.”
“Well, I’m sorry Ro. What did you need?” Maeve frowned.
Rowan smiled. It was not a bother at all to spend time searching for her older sister, rather an invigorating task that simultaneously allowed her to seek out those keys she has always wanted to find at Hogwarts. “You have the competition soon, duh! I need to do your hair!”
Maeve’s stomach dropped suddenly, and the reprieve from her nerves brought on by practicing and seeing her sister was ripped from her at the mention of the competition. But Maeve subtly let out a sigh and focused on doing what she did best - hiding her expression. She smiled down and her sister and ruffled her hair. “Yes please! Let’s head back to my dormitory, you can hang out in my common room while I shower quickly, then you can work your magic with my hair.”
Rowan beamed as she pulled a vial from her pocket. Maeve immediately recognized it was one of Rowan’s ornate vials for her own personal brews. “I brewed up a new smoothing potion last night! I tested it out this morning on my own hair, can you tell?” she asked, dramatically fluffing out the ends of her curly hair.
“If my hair could look half as stunning as yours, I’ll be thrilled.” Maeve ruffled the top of Rowan’s head. She turned back to Sebastian and Lucan, who were looking at diagrams in one of the dueling books Lucan brought to their session. “I’m going to head off and get ready, but I’ll see you both later!”
The both looked up and offered her a half wave before resuming their intense discussing of the techniques in their current chapter, and Maeve left for the Gryffindor common room with Rowan. Truly, her mind was feeling in a much better spot now that she got some practice in. There was an underlying anxiety still tightened her chest a bit, but she felt much more capable of maintaining a calm appearance.
That is what she focused on throughout getting ready. As Rowan’s talented fingers smoothed back Maeve’s hair into a sleek half-up bun that was decorated with the inclusion of intricate braids, Maeve closed her eyes and thought about the ways she would approach the upcoming duels. Her first duel would be against the girl from Ravenclaw, Melania Wisby. Then, if Maeve wins, she goes on to compete against either the Slytherin or Hufflepuff selection, depending on who wins a duel between the two of them. That’s it - just two duels. Maeve didn’t know what she was getting so worried about. Again, she has won duels against all of these students before.
“Ok, you’re done!” Rowan announced, handing Maeve a mirror. As Maeve looked at her hair, which was truly some of Rowan’s best work, she felt immense relief as the pit in her stomach dissipated. She knew it was silly, but looking her best really meant so much to her going into a duel. If her expressions were under control, and her hair was under control, then her dueling could be under control too, right?
She tried to maintain this confidence as she walked out onto the Quidditch lawn. Long before Maeve was selected to compete, she had been mentally preparing herself for dueling in the huge arena, which was significantly larger than any setting she had dueled in before. She let out a controlled breath, reminding herself that when she gets to the Regional Tournament the arenas will be even larger, so she needs to be able to do this.
It was no time at all before she saw a messy set of red curls come her way. She was relieved to find Garreth grinning widely down at her, no hint of the disappointment from earlier in his expression. “There’s our winner! How are you feeling?”
“Ready.”
“Atta girl!” He said, reaching out to mess up her hair, but she was quick to grab his wrist and stop him just in time.
“I swear to Merlin, Garreth Weasley, if you ever try to mess up my hair before a duel one more time, I will tell Professor Sharp that you’re stealing potions ingredients from his office again!” Maeve threatened.
He looked unphased. “I think one detention would be well worth it.”
“I’ll tell your aunt that you went into the Forbidden Forest.”
Now that made his face fall. His arm quickly moved to his side, and he took a few steps back. “Now now, no need to be so cruel! I’ll keep my distance, I swear.”
As if they had summoned her, the voice of Headmistress Weasley boomed over the crowd with the help of an amplifying charm. “Attention, students! Please take your seats in the stands, we will begin our competition shortly. Contestants, please meet me in the middle of the lawn.”
With several good lucks from Rowan and her friends that were near her, Maeve walked over to where Professor Weasley, Professor Hecat, and the other selected students stood. The professors went over the order in which they would duel - Maeve’s first duel against Melania would be third, after Sebastian versus Leander and girls from Hufflepuff and Slytherin - as well as the rules for the competition. As was standard in the sport of dueling, there was to be no use of magical plants or potions. They did not always follow that rule in Crossed Wands, as the opportunity to participate without having to be the best spellcaster was inviting to a greater number of students, but in the sport of dueling the focus was specifically on offensive and defensive spellcasting. They also felt the need to specify that Unforgivable Curses were not to be used, as if anybody would have ever thought to.
And just like that, they got started. Maeve stood calmly in the viewing area for the other selected students during the first two duels, though she couldn’t help but feel those nerves slowly but surely creep back up as it got closer and closer to her duel. Then, suddenly, it was her out in the middle of the Quidditch lawn, wand at the ready.
As soon as she cast her first basic cast, all the worry and the nerves melted away, and she felt as if she was back in the Clock Tower Courtyard again. The duel didn’t last long at all, Maeve easily able to identify and use Melania’s weaknesses against her. Maeve noticed that as Melania casts Protego, it is a bit high, leaving the lower half of her body vulnerable. Therefore, a quick Accio to her shoes wiped her off her feet and onto her back, leaving her shocked and therefore vulnerable to several basic casts in quick succession. Maeve hoped she didn’t embarrass the poor Ravenclaw with such a quick duel. If she did, it didn’t show, as Melania shook her hand respectfully after the duel before returning to the sidelines.
She returned to the sidelines as well, heart fluttering with excitement at her win. As she always did, Maeve managed her expression well, but on the inside she was screaming and dancing and jumping around. Now, she just had to wait for her second duel against the Slytherin student Charity Newton, who had won her first duel against the Hufflepuff Mirabel Graves.
As for the male students, it was no surprise that Sebastian defeated Leander in less than a minute. Maeve knew she should feel bad for the poor Gryffindor, but she wasn’t any better than the other students when she openly laughed at the stupid expression on his face when Sebastian first hit him with Flipendo. Sebastian went on to face the Hufflepuff boy Corin Woodage, who actually put up a pretty strong fight, but ultimately was defeated by Sebastian. It was official: Sebastian would be competing in the Regional Tournament.
As he returned to the sidelines, Sebastian’s eyes immediately found their way to Maeve’s. They didn't have time to celebrate his success before Maeve had to walk over to the center for her final duel, but Sebastian was able to mouth a quick “Good luck!”
Maeve wasn’t sure what to expect of her nerves as she walked to her mark, but she was surprised to find herself calm. A part of her was tempted to question it and worry about why she was calm, but she decided to just embrace it and trust in her abilities.
At her mark, she took a deep, grounding breath, and assumed her ready stance. Her feet felt secure on the ground, and she felt the magic coursing through her veins as she raised her wand. She stared down the lawn straight into the eyes of Charity Newton, hoping her confident expression could intimidate the Slytherin before the duel starts.
Instead, the opposite happened. Charity also readied her stance with great confidence, matching Maeve’s stare with a quite intimidating one of her own. Maeve was used to this, dueling as much as she has, and was pretty good at not letting it get to her. But there was a certain knowing look in Charity’s eyes, and the corners of her mouth undeniably curled into a sly smile. Maeve felt instantly consumed by the fear that something was wrong.
A whistle blew.
Maeve barely could raise her arm to cast a Protego shield before she felt the crushing strike of a Depulso hit her, directly in the center of her chest. It sent Maeve flying backwards, much further than she ever had when dueling with other students. She shut her eyes tightly for a few moments after she landed, assessing the pain developing on her back and chest. Finally, she blinked her eyes open, only to realize that the spell had knocked her so far back that she was now out of bounds.
That’s it. Charity won.
Maeve felt her breathing stop. And maybe her heart stop. Did time stop too? The crowd roared, and several students rushed out onto the field to congratulate Charity on her success against the frontrunner. Maeve stared blankly for several moments as she attempted to focus on her breathing. She grasped at her chest, but that only caused intense pain as it pressed directly on where a dramatic bruise was already forming from the spell.
She didn’t know how she found the courage to lift her head up and look around, but her eyes found two people immediately. First, Sebastian, who appeared frozen as her stared at her, mouth open. Then, Garreth, who was also now on the field rushing over to her. Rowan and her other friends also made their way over, but it was Garreth who was running far in front of them.
Contradictory to his hurried approach, Garreth was impressively calm as he kneeled at her side. There was concern in his eyes, that much was very clear, but he had this soft smile that provided her the slightest bit of comfort. It was like she was a mooncalf in the wild, and he knew even the slightest movement could scare her off. He reached out his hand and gently placed it on her shoulder, which was the only prompting she needed to completely throw her arms around his neck and squeeze him in a tight hug. She sobbed into his shoulder, and she didn’t know how she was going to repay him for allowing her to make such a mess of his robes, and also for choking him slightly, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he wrapped one arm tightly around her waist, holding her close. The other arm comfortingly rubbed up and down her back. It took a few minutes for her to feel like she could breathe at a normal pace again.
She finally removed her head from his shoulder, her hands quickly flying up to wipe the tears and snot from her face. “I must look like a disaster, huh?”
Garreth just chuckled, all but confirming it. He lifted one hand to the side of her face, almost cradling it, using his thumb to wipe under her eyes. "Well, no worse than when my Bulgeye Potion accidentally ended up in your tea instead of Leander's last year." He said, causing her to quietly laugh through shaky breaths.
Rowan calling Maeve's name as she approached brought her back to the situation at hand, and she felt wholly unsettled, realizing that she now had the gut-wrenching task of having to face that over the next, day, week, month, year that she did not make it to the Regional Tournament.